I managed tae mak my first advice stall in a couple oa weeks at Dundee buroo the ither day, to meet up wi comrades and shoot the craw wi freends and familiar faces. It was mercifully quiet, wi only een or twa serious cases tae deal wi, but whilst I was there wi Jock and Sarah, I met Davy, a grey haired guy in his mid fifties, wha hobbled oot oa the buroo on a walking stick, accompanied by his carer, whose allowance was under threat. I asked him if he wis hivvin ony problems, and he said, ‘Noa the day, but ah hiv hid bather in the past’. When I asked him to expand, he telt me that he had been through a serious motorbike accident 2-3 years ago, which had left him with serious stomach injuries, whilst he had also, subsequently, developed a serious problem with Diabetes, which has had a damaging impact on his eyesight.

Davy had been awarded ESA, and was placed in the Support Group, which means that he shouldna get bothered by the DWP dingbats. However, around a year and half ago he had been called into the caring, sharing Triage office in Dundee. This company purports to be devoted to getting fowk into work, but, the reality has always been that you are much mare likely to be sanctioned by these trumpets than of ever finding a job – indeed, a guid percentage oa sanction cases in Dundee are generated by this lot claiming fowk hivna turned up for interviews when the fowk themsels are claiming that they received no such notification. The SUWN are well known to the paid drones within, as we’ve closed their office doon oan twa occasions in the recent past ower their treatment oa unemployed and disabled fowk in Dundee.

When Davy was called into Triage, he wisna haen the best time oa it. His serious stomach injuries were playing up – he’s affected by green bile reflux and had been projectile vomiting that morning. He was, however, aware oa the problems that might come his way if he didna attend the Triage appointment, and so hauled himsel into the Triage office/interrogation centre, where he met a whippersnapper in a dodgy suit, wha could nivir hiv been mistaken for a ray oa sunshine. Davy explained to the whippersnapper that he was having health problems and that he didna see the point oa being dragged oot oa his sick bed to attend. The whippersnapper nivir even looked up, and jist kept oan scribbling awa in his wee notebook. When he did look up, Davy had turned a bit greenish, and telt the guy he was feeling nauseous. Again, the whippersnapper barely blinked. Then, Davy felt his stomach in turmoil, and, with real urgency this time, asked the whippersnapper to get a bucket as he wis gaena spew. Davy said the guy looked at him, ‘as though I was at it’. He probably wished Davy was ‘at it’, as, with virtually nae warning the green levy broke, and he projectile vomited aw ower the desk, aw ower the paperwork, and aw ower the young whippersnapper’s lap, thus ruining whit was already a dodgy suit, and replacing the look oa disdain oan the guy’s puss, wi een oa absolute shock and horror.

I can think oa no better way for the sick and disabled, which includes masel, to fight back agin the murderous drones oa the DWP and their allied parasites than to use oor illnesses agin the trumpets. Perhaps oor next protest at Triage could involve mass projectile vomiting – now that really would be a bit different. Eftir aw, we’d only be geen back a little oa whit they murderous bastards hiv been handing oot for far too lang noo.

Tony Cox