As many of you know, I suffered a stroke in 2016. That’s how come this blog started.

Although I was left disabled, I was fortunate. My brain was still tip-top. This was how I’d made my living in “real life”. Building a successful career on two continents.

So much so, a couple of years after the stroke, I began ramping myself up so that I’d be able to get back into work. I volunteered. One, in order to help people. But two, in order to integrate back into the “work” environment. I didn’t have to do this – I had been assessed by the relevant UK agency (DWP) such that I never had to work again. But I felt I still had something to offer.

It was a long process. It was 2023 before I found a job. About 5 years. Even then, it was an imperfect match, nowhere near the level I once worked, and I began to notice their “limitations” early on. The main clients (from my perspective) noticed this, too, and began to withhold funding. As work dried up, in June 2025 I was made redundant.

I assumed that the benefits that I had previously claimed would be reinstated. I was still just as disabled, physically, as I had been previously. A formality. Not so. Despite the ruling in 2016, the ruling in 2025 was that I was fully fit to work. Role no object, distance no object. The bottom line, of course, was that the Benefits Agency wanted to save money. To any UK voters who support parties which want welfare cuts, this is what you’re voting for. I hope you feel proud of yourselves. Your vote doesn’t just affect “gutter trash” you know nothing about, it affects people like me.

The single overwhelming piece of luck from the stroke is that it hit me so young. I’m 58 now probably younger than most of you – and have plenty of fight still left in me. I appealed the decision. The Benefits Agency spun it out as long as possible – they largely set their own timetable, and there’s nothing you can do but live with their sloth. But there are a fixed number of hoops – they can’t delay forever. I was forced to attend meaningless job-focused appointments where, again and again, I had to patiently explain my limitations. I was met with sheer ignorance – just three weeks ago I was asked why I had never learned to write with my remaining hand. As though it was my fault that I couldn’t sign their form. (It’s not. They need to take account of this, and I’m speaking legally here.)

But sooner or later, matters are taken out of the Benefits Agency’s hands, and you end up arguing your case in front of a judge.

Except I never got my day in court. Earlier this week, now facing deadlines imposed on them by the statutes, the Benefits Agency effectively pleaded “no contest”. So the hours I spent making my case watertight were rendered irrelevant. But perhaps the evidence made the DWP concede?And I got the right result in the end.

I mean, we’ll see what that means in practise. I’ve already appealed the appeal because their “concession” letter is not up to scratch. Those hot days we just spent being totally unproductive? I was being productive.

I must admit, this experience has been an eye-opener. I enjoy writing, and before this process started, I thought I would amble slowly towards (and beyond) retirement, writing all the way. I already have one full-length novel under my belt and am working on a second.

But now, I feel I have to volunteer again. I might even need to set up my own operation. I’m acutely aware that the two main reasons I was able to beat the government were my relative youth, and therefore energy, and my brain. I’m also acutely aware that some people are not blessed with these gifts, and want to spend at least some of my time helping them.

Incidentally, if anybody is in this position, and has come across this page from an internet search, I’m yet to set anything up but please make contact at blog@mrbump.uk.