Hello, my name is Squirrel and I suffer from a Certain Medical Condition. But I’m not going to tell you exactly what condition, because that’s not the point of this post. (Also I’m hoping that an air of mystery will make it seem more exotic than it actually is.)
Let’s just say I have a mystery condition, it’s lifelong, and it gets in the way of work quite a lot, which is annoying. And until recently I just accepted that.
I mean, them’s the breaks, right? Some people just have it tougher than others.
Somewhere along the line I’d absorbed the idea that pushing through without complaining was the right thing to do.
I see other people with disabilities or chronic conditions do it too, saying things like:
“I don’t want to be a burden.”
“It’s my problem, I’ll handle it.”
“Don’t mind me – I’ll catch up…”
“Sorry to be such a nuisance!”
That was me. My line was:
“Hi, I’m Squirrel! I have this condition – but don’t worry, I never let it get in the way of my work!”
There would usually be a cheery and slightly self-deprecating smile to go with it. But I don’t know how to write that, and The Investor seems to frown on emojis in articles!
Conditioned to costs
I am not here to write about my specific medical challenges, as I say.
Monevator is a financial site – and the problem I’m here to highlight is that like many in similar circumstances, I’ve been bearing all the costs.
There are time costs. Sometimes when work piles up I push myself too hard and get exhausted. It takes me time to recover. Or there are appointments to go to – always during the work week – which wipe me out. The cost of that displaced time is borne by me. I’m the one who has to work all weekend to make up.
There are opportunity costs, too. Often I say no to opportunities that would help me progress in my career [1], because I know I wouldn’t be able to manage some aspect of them. The travel perhaps, or long hours without a break. So those go to somebody else – somebody who can manage without any help.
There’s also a weird cost which I think of as the self-esteem cost. It feeds into all the others.
If you know that you have particular limitations, you tend to overcompensate in other areas in order to feel better about yourself, or to prove to everyone that you’re still the right person for the job. You push yourself too hard, get exhausted, lose time, and you have to turn down opportunities. It’s a cycle of cost that pushes you around in circles and keeps you from moving forward.
But that’s just the way the cookie crumbles, right? Or so I thought until recently, when someone mentioned the government’s Access to Work scheme…
…and they kept mentioning it, until I dropped the stiff upper lip and actually listened.
What is Access to Work?
The Access to Work scheme [2] has been described as the government’s best-kept secret. (Though I myself suspect there are bigger skeletons in Number 10’s cupboards…)
It’s a discretionary grant scheme designed to help people in England, Scotland, and Wales with disabilities and health conditions to find their way into work – or to help them stay in work if they’re already there.
The scheme allows for costs of up to £69,260 a year per person. The funds can pay for all sorts of equipment and support.
Think about that for a minute. £69,260 is a very big pot of money. There is more money in that one person-specific pot than I have ever actually earned in a year. And in theory it’s all there to help me.
Discovering Access to Work is like having a fairy godmother who appears with a magic biro and a big stack of forms instead of a wand.
Or rather – it’s like having a fairy godmother you don’t know about, so you miss going to the ball and then find out 20 years later that you’ve spent your entire life washing dishes instead of living in a palace because nobody bothered to tell you about her.
Okay, I might be just a bit bitter that I didn’t know about Access to Work years ago.
But I’m not the only one. Apparently only a tiny proportion of the people who are eligible actually apply for Access to Work because the Department for Work and Pensions (DWP) manages the cost of the scheme by keeping it quiet.
Hence I’m doing my bit here to raise awareness!
(Sorry DWP, old chaps. Nothing personal, you understand.)
Who can access the scheme?
The interesting thing is you don’t need a formal diagnosis to apply for Access to Work. You just need to be able to demonstrate that you have a need which can’t be met by normal workplace adjustments.
If you’re over 16, UK-based, in paid work (there are a few other situations that apply too), and have a disability or physical or mental health condition, you can apply for an assessment. It’s surprisingly inclusive.
The mental health element is worth highlighting. If you report you have a mental health condition then that sends you down a slightly different route, through one of two specific organisations which are set up to help you access the scheme and provide mental health support at the same time. They also keep the details quiet from your workplace.
So in short, it’s a scheme that’s open to anyone who needs some extra support or equipment to compensate for health problems that are affecting their work.
How does Access to Work work?
You apply in a personal capacity, not through your place of employment, because the grant is tied to you.
This means that you can get help not just with your main job, but also with any other work you might do, say as a freelancer [3].
You can ring up the Access to Work people and talk to an advisor. Alternatively you can fill in an online form that asks about the barriers you’ve encountered at work and the types of support that might help.
I went down the online route, and honestly I found the form quite friendly and accessible. (Much easier than applying for things like the Disability Living Allowance [4] and Personal Independent Payments [5], which are nightmarish).
The form asks for your personal information and some details about your workplace. There are also text entry boxes enabling you to provide information about how and why your condition is making things tough for you in your job.
You do also have to provide a workplace contact – usually a line manager or someone in HR – unless you’re self-employed. That’s because in some circumstances (not all) your employer might have to pay a contribution too.
How can Access to Work work for you?
There are a number of different types of help available. All of which seem, quite frankly, wonderful.
For instance, if you have problems accessing public transport to get to work, they can pay for regular taxis. (That one almost makes me wish I didn’t work from home!) They can provide training, either for you or for your workplace. They can pay for a British Sign Language interpreter [6], a job coach, or a support worker to help you with the parts of your job that cause you the most difficulty. They can even fund a job aide to take over from you at work if you run into a problem. It’s an impressive menu of options.
There is – of course – a backlog. I’ve sent in my forms. But it could be six months or more before I hear anything about an assessment, so I’m not holding my breath.
However I am cautiously excited.
I’ve read lots of accounts from people online, including people with the same Condition as me, who say that this grant is life-changing and has enabled them to do extraordinary things. For some, it’s the magic biro they never thought they’d be given.
But what about you?
Maybe you’ll see yourself in this post and start thinking that you might be able to apply for help too. Or maybe you know a colleague or family member who would be a good candidate for support. Maybe you’ll just file this away in your memory banks, waiting for it to become relevant someday.
Whatever the case, do spread the word!
(But spread it quietly. We don’t want to make the DWP cry, do we?)