All Works Tests and their Reports

The next stage in all this is something I will resist going into any great detail about, and just say that I appeared before an adjudicator at an appeal tribunal, who had to stop the appeal saying, ‘Mr Bellett, I am afraid I can’t hear your case because you have not had a proper and complete AWT (all works test), and there is a lot of paperwork missing, and the paperwork I have been sent is incomplete, so I am sending you for another AWT, and I can tell you now that this decision is in your favour.’  And that was that.

The next AWT was just a couple of months after the tribunal on the 30th August 2000, conducted by a Dr H G Rees in the AWT centre in Swansea, and believe me this was a very thorough examination. The result of this examination was I was awarded nineteen points, that’s four more points than you need, and entitled me to claim back the £300 in lost benefits and the rest, but although financially I needed every penny that is not what concerned me most.  Now I wanted to know how one Doctor could award me no points at all, and cause me so much anxiety and hardship, so bad that I was now taking anti-depressants, and another doctor some eight months later could award me 19 points.

So I requested that my AWT reports be sent to me, and when they arrived, my God, what a load of rubbish.  A complete miss-mash of false statements and lies, in fact, the report which awarded me nineteen points was only slightly different from the one that awarded me no points.

My Solicitor, Simon Ellis, who was taking care of my appeal said, ‘Using this DSS points instruction sheet, I can only find eight points, maybe being generous, ten, but certainly not nineteen.’

The first thing I did, was to write asking for another AWT by the same doctor, because I wanted to ask why his report was as it was.

The DSS, and all the relevant bodies like The Medical Services, which was the agency employed by the DSS to conduct these health checks, all completely snubbed me and fudged the issue, trying to cover everything up.  But I persisted and persisted, and kept on arguing that I wanted to be re-examined by Dr. H G Rees, and eventually, after almost three years I was sent for another AWT in the AWT centre in Swansea, and on the 8th May 2003, I arrived expecting to see this Dr. H G Rees, but when I said I was there to keep an appointment with this doctor I was told he was not examining patients that day.

Well I completely lost my head and started shouting, and forced my way into the office were all the examiners were sitting, and gave them a piece of my mind as well.  The security people came, and I had a few words with them, then this little black doctor came out and tried to pacify me, and because of his size, and the fact he had done nothing to me, I agreed to be examined by him.

He just kept saying, ‘Calm down Mr Bellett, your blood pressure will be through the roof.’

But guess what?  When he took my blood pressure he was shocked and he said. ’Your blood pressure is very low Mr. Bellett.’

So I said, ‘What do you mean, it’s very low?’

His reply was, ‘It’s 85/55.’

He gave me the quickest check over you can imagine, and that was it, I left.

But on the way home, what he had said about my blood pressure kept swimming around in my mind, and I decided to go to my GPs surgery clinic, and ask the nurse to check it. And sure enough my blood pressure was low, in fact it was 80/50, and my pulse was 50, the practice nurse was very concerned and said she had better tell the doctor.

She came back and said ‘doctor says stop taking your Istin immediately, and come back and have it checked again tomorrow, and if it’s still the same you will have to be sent to hospital.’

What you must understand, is that by this time, and after all I had been through and experienced, I trusted no-one, and refused to stop anything until I had seen my own GP Dr Williams.

But the nurse said ‘You should stop taking it now.’ and asked, ‘Aren’t you feeling dizzy?’

‘Aren’t I feeling dizzy?’ I spluttered, ‘of course I’m feeling dizzy! I’ve been feeling dizzy and fainting for years, but no-one seemed bothered about it so, what’s all the fuss now?  I have been taking this medication for seven years, how come I have got to stop it now?’

Then I stated once more that I was not going to stop anything till I had seen my GP and that was it.

Within a couple of days I saw Dr. Williams, and he told me I was right not to stop any medication until I had talked to him, and that I would have regular blood tests over a few weeks, and then he would make a decision.

And that’s what happened, and my blood pressure ranged from 80/50 to as low as 70/50, and a pulse of fifty.

My GP said ‘Stop taking the Istin immediately.’

Within weeks, the dizziness lessened and the little faints stopped altogether.

Once again I started to think about things, and as my head cleared I started to ask myself why did my GP say when I mentioned the constant dizziness I was experiencing, ‘it lets you know you’re alive.’ And why did he say the noises and the crackles and pops in my head, ‘were just crackles and pops.’?

Noises in my head, and numbness in my hands and arms were something that had started in 2001, and I had asked my GP about them on several occasions, and you have heard his reply over the noises and dizziness.  Well, his explanation over the tingling and numbness was that it was circulatory, and he told me to exercise.  And let’s face it, if your GP doesn’t seem concerned about the symptoms you report to him, it’s then you feel like you are just whingeing about nothing.

But by now I was really starting to question everything, and I can tell you I didn’t like the answers I was coming up with.

The final nail in the coffin was when I once again visited my GP about another symptom I had been experiencing for years, but that I had never put down to anything other than stress, and that was a terrible itching all over my body, but especially my nipples.  Sometimes they were that itchy, I felt like cutting them off.

I had told my GP about it and he had prescribed an emulsion, telling me how expensive it was, and on subsequent occasions, he told me to buy and use Evening Primrose Oil, and that was it.

The next visit to see my GP about this constant itchiness in my nipples was a defining moment in this whole saga. Let me explain; when you are fighting a system and an organization as manipulative and powerful as the Freemasons, you find it very hard to trust anyone, but amid it all, you do from time to time weaken, and feel you need to be able to trust someone, and the person I chose to trust was Duncan Williams, my very own GP.

Although I sometimes got a bit confused, and things took a bit of time to sink in and for me to analyse them, at this stage I knew exactly what was happening, and why, and I decided to go to the police and report it, and that’s exactly what I did.  And boy did I have to fight my corner, but eventually I was promised a full thorough and professional investigation.

So now we come to that visit and what happened; at first nothing different, the usual pleasantries were exchanged, then I explained why I was there, telling him that the intensity of this itching in my nipples was unbearable and it was driving me mad.  There was no mention this time of Evening Primrose oil, it was, ‘Oh you had better take your shirt off and let me examine you.’  And he pushed and prodded my nipple going ‘Mmm.’, then he sat down while I put my shirt on, and he started going on about a pea sized lump in my breast, and male breast cancer, and he was sending me to the hospital for a biopsy and a breast examination.  I never said anything, but I said to myself ‘You’re lying to me doc, you just reminded me of one of the shoddy insurance salesmen I had worked with.’  So, I just said, ‘Oh! You think so doc?’

Then he really got into his poor salesman mode, telling me how he wanted to make sure everything was okay, and that his job was to take care of me.

As I left the surgery, thanking him, I was saying under my breath ‘You lying p—k.’, and kicking myself for ever trusting this man.

As soon as I got home, I stripped off and examined myself, and I can assure you there was no lump at all, so when the appointment came through from PPH, I wrote back to them telling them I didn’t trust any of them, and they could basically stick their appointment were the sun doesn’t shine.

The next thing is I received a letter from my surgery asking me to come and see my GP Duncan Williams; ‘Well, well.’  I thought, ‘This is going to be interesting,’ and I agreed.

The one thing I had decided was not to let Dr Duncan Williams know that I didn’t trust him, so when I kept the appointment that was what was in my mind.

He sat back in his chair smiling, and saying ‘Hello Peter, now what’s this letter all about?’

Sitting down I said, ‘Well doc, I just don’t trust them, and I’ve got the police involved.’ This never fazed him at all, he just said, ‘I hope you trust me Peter.’

‘Of course I do doc, you’re the only one I do trust.’

‘Good.’ he replied, ‘We are here to help, we certainly won’t cause you any harm.’

‘I know that Doc, but I just didn’t want them touching me really.’

‘It’s only an examination,’ he said. ‘Nothing intrusive, so let me make another appointment for you, and let’s get that lump seen to.’

So I agreed, but this time there was no mention of biopsy, and besides I wanted to see what the hospital had to say.

Once again, I will shorten everything because it’s all there in black and white in the records I have got from the hospital.

When I went to PPH the first thing I had was a mammogram, then I saw this young black doctor, who examined my left breast then gave me a sort of scan were you put a jelly on the breast and put this sort of small scanner on it, and that was that, but, the conversation went like this, and I repeat it word for word:

‘Well Mr. Bellett, I can assure you there is no lump in your breast, and the pain is probably caused by you scratching your nipple.

I just looked at him and said, ‘I know there is no lump, and I certainly haven’t got any pain, it’s just this bloody itching that’s driving me mad.’

He just looked at me a bit bemused and said, ‘You know you haven’t got a lump?’

So I told him again, ‘I never said I did, it’s just the itchiness that’s doing my head in, and I want to know what I can do about it.’

‘That’s probably a side affect of the Istin you’re taking, because it stops the production of the male hormone testosterone and increases the production of the female hormone oestrogen.’

When I told him I wasn’t taking it anymore he just said, ‘It’s probably still causing a side effect, but that will more than likely slowly go away.’, and recommended I use Evening Primrose oil.

The one thing that consultation did was to confirm that what I had decided about my GP Duncan Williams was exactly right.

In his letter to the hospital (and I have a copy) he say’s I presented myself at his surgery complaining of a painful lump in my breast, what a blatant lie, the first of many, as the documentation I have proves beyond a doubt.

I will just cut to the chase at this point and tell you that in 2004 I broke my 25 year decision to stay off the booze and started to drink again, not all the time, but on the odd occasion.  I just wanted to get drunk and block everything out, but as we all know that doesn’t help, and by 2005 I was finding it increasingly hard to cope financially.  To be honest, I had got into debt from the time the DSS had stopped my benefits, and had taken almost eighteen months to pay me back the £300 they owed me.

But the straw that broke the camel’s back was after fifteen months without any updates whatsoever, the police gave me a whitewash of a report, and told me that was it, ‘investigation closed.’

You can’t imagine what I was feeling.  I felt defeated utterly drained of everything; no fight left in me at all.

My chest pains were more frequent, the numbness and tingling was getting worse, and I just couldn’t trust anyone.  I just started to accept that these people could ruin your life at will, and that they were so powerful that no-one could fight them and win.

Because of the way I was feeling, and the position I was in financially, I decided the only thing to do was sell my house and just go somewhere sunny, like Greece, Spain, Cyprus or Malta, and languish on a beach, and clear my mind of everything and relax.

To be honest, the way I was feeling I thought I didn’t have long left on this earth, but once again, coincidence played its part and events didn’t happen as I had planned.

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