Dusty Wentworth

  Recovery Planning Is Not Just for Mental Health Recovery planning is often associated with addiction or mental health, but it is just as important for people living with physical disabilities and long term illness. In this context, recovery does not mean cure. It means living as well as possible within ongoing limitations, maintaining stability, managing symptoms, and reducing the impact of setbacks. A recovery plan provides structure when health fluctuates, energy is limited, or capacity drops. It shifts the focus from fixing the condition to protecting function, independence, and quality of life. How to build a simple recovery plan Define what stability looks like for you. Be realistic. Identify early warning signs that things are worsening, such as fatigue, pain, missed medication, or reduced function. Decide in advance what helps when symptoms increase, including pacing, rest, assistive equipment, or scaling back commitments. Be clear about what does not help, as well int...

The New Year is quietly under way. It is Saturday 3 January 2026, and as I write this, snow is falling steadily outside my window. It is one of those calm, unmistakably beautiful moments that winter sometimes offers. I am thankful that I have nowhere I need to be today. Snow and wheelchairs do not mix well, and what appears peaceful from indoors can very quickly become dangerous outside. This stillness feels symbolic. With the turning of the year has come a change in how I view my life. This is not because circumstances have suddenly become easy, but because something fundamental has shifted. For the first time in a long while, I am not simply surviving. I am beginning to look forward. That shift has been slow, hard-won, and costly. From collapse to survival My journey over the past few years began in October 2023 when I collapsed at home. What followed was not a single event but an extended fight to stay alive. I spent eleven months moving between hospital wards and a spec...

I didn’t wake gently. I woke confused.   After nearly four weeks unconscious, the doctors didn’t expect me to survive. But I did. I remember a strange sound—low, soft, like a cow’s distant moo.   When I opened my eyes, I was convinced I’d woken up in a barn-turned-hospital during the American Civil War.   The smell, the air, the eerie stillness—it all felt real. Then the vision faded.   A nurse was beside my bed. I couldn’t quite hear her—my hearing had been severely damaged, and everything felt distant, tilted.   But I was awake.   Still here.   And even though I didn’t know where I was, something deep inside whispered: start something. 🏥 How My Journal Became My Voice It began as a tool.   An occupational therapist suggested keeping a journal—to help me track the moments, emotions, and memories I feared might slip away. With help from a healthcare assistant, I downloaded the Diarium app to my ...

It's a stark contrast that's hard to ignore: while the UK government discusses tightening the purse strings on vital support for disabled people, many Members of Parliament appear to be enjoying a more cushioned existence, complete with lucrative second jobs. This disparity has fuelled a heated debate, leaving many questioning the fairness of a system that seems to offer one set of rules for the vulnerable and another for those in power. The Squeeze on Disability Support   The government has openly expressed concerns about the escalating cost of Personal Independence Payment (PIP) and other disability benefits. Proposals have included a “four-point rule” for new PIP claimants, aiming to direct support to those with the most severe conditions.   While recent concessions suggest these changes might only impact new claimants from a future date, and current PIP recipients will be protected, the message is clear: the era of seemingly unfettered benefit increas...