THE MARATHON OF THE FORMS
THE MARATHON OF THE FORMS
Writer: Eva Weston Szemes
Illustrator: Anna Bjørke
In Norway, we like to think that we are good at accommodating disabilities. With a chronic diagnosis, getting what you need shouldn’t be that hard, should it? I have cerebral palsy, but with a leg brace and special shoes, I function almost just like able-bodied people. Join me on my adventure, or to put it bluntly, my marathon, on my way to get a new leg brace.
*A rotskudd is an opinion-bearing text written by an editorial member of Tuntréet and expresses the writer’s personal opinions.
It all started when my trusty plastic leg brace started breaking. A mild crisis, considering I am dependent on this to be able to walk outside. I call my orthopaedist, who has a fantastic idea: A new kind of leg brace that is lighter and easier to use. If I only knew how hard this would be.
The papers that confirm I need a leg brace are only valid for a set period. To renew these papers is by no means a formality. The result? One and a half year (yes, that’s right) of calling different doctors. At least ten forms and letters between NAV and different specialists. Countless hours of stress and worrying. Just to get an aid I need, that I always have needed, and I always will. Really?
People keep complaining that NAV has too much to do. Well, not nagging people with chronic diagnoses about whether they still need their aids, might be a good start. Making the renewing process for different forms a formality, would free up a lot of time for more important tasks. I truly believe that doctors know more about the different diagnoses than the case workers at NAV.
Luckily, my parents have taught me the language of the bureaucrats, and Norwegian is my mother tongue. If you are not fluent in NAVish, or your mother tongue isn’t Norwegian, these forms must be hell on earth. The letters responding to a request for approving the renewing of an aid, are multiple pages long. The language is tricky at best and complete nonsense at worst. I have received letters where my case worker (who has never met me) claims I am not disabled, even though more than ten different doctors have confirmed this over the years. The media has even reported that some people think NAV is going to kill them (!) Let’s be honest: When someone says they will “end your existence”, it sounds dramatic. No matter who you are.
Only a few weeks ago, I picked up my new leg brace and ordered new special shoes. A simple affair this time. I only had to call two doctors to confirm I’m still disabled (maybe it disappeared, who knows?) and sign four forms. Luckily, I don’t have to do another marathon of forms until next year.
