I wrote the twenty page essay with four sheets of A4 for their added entertainment on anxiety & mental problems and 'other information'.

I practiced going up & down stairs, I juggled with 2.5 kilo bags of potatoes whilst balancing a saucepan of water on my head....(ha ha).

I swotted up on instructions from the M.E Association and spoke to people who had been through the experience themselves.

No, I wasn't passing my driving test or auditioning for 'it's a knockout', I had been summoned for the all work test medical, by the Benefits Agency medical services!

On the form I had written, 'a change of routine, e.g an early morning doctors appointment can be extremely tiring'....because I am comatose until lunch time, and the appointment duly arrived for 9.15am! After getting up at 6am, I had a bus ride lasting one and a half hours in the rush hour.  (luckily the centre is near the bus station)

When you arrive, the door is locked and you have to speak on the intercom and give the secret password, "all work test medical" before they let you in.

After this, you sit....and sit....and sit in a florescent lit waiting room with chairs that are so low that  you could do with a hoist to help you up.

Meanwhile, there is a video camera right over the door watching your every move. Now just call me paranoid; maybe it was just for security or maybe 'big brother' is watching to see if you really can juggle bags of potatoes........or maybe it's 'Candid camera', and Jeremy Beadle is going to burst out and say "The last six years have been a ghastly joke, you can have your life back now!"

Anyway, after an hour waiting, the Doctor came out to get me. By this time I have been up for hours and beginning to feel very cold and shaky and in need of of something to boost my low blood sugar.

We go into the room and he sits my partner right at the back about fifteen feet away like a naughty child; He looks at my form, my work of art, and this is obviously the first time he has viewed it.

Once he sees that I was referred to a psychologist, we bypass physical disabilities completely and go straight to mental disabilities.

He asks me what I used to do. I used to be a nurse and a midwife, and I feel the tears welling up.

"Are you a bit tearful?" he asks, I explain that I think this has more to do with the stress of this event that has been dragging on for three months and that I am cold and shaky and been up since 6.am

By now I think I should be awarded a degree in reading upside-down writing!

Do I need to refer to other people a lot?, I am yelling to Adam at the back, "have I seen a hospital consultant recently?"....so I think that answers that one!

Do I need alcohol?, "Yes please, mines a large one!" Well they keep telling you to drink red wine, don't they.

Another tick on the form.

How many is that? Have I got enough to pass on the psychological   alone? I hadn't even contemplated that!

Do I get irritated? Perhaps I should demonstrate this one!

Is my concentration bad?, Do I go out alone?.....At the bottom of my road is a mini roundabout where the traffic comes from six different directions. By the time you get to check direction five, the traffic is coming from one & two again and I have nearly been knocked down several times

I have taken things out of the oven, forgetting to use oven gloves, and regularly put bread in the washing machine, does that count?.....Another tick!

By now I am getting really tired, but now we do some physical bits.

Can I lift my arms above my head? Yes, but I cannot hold them there because the muscles immediately go into spasm.

Now I have to read the eye sight test card, but it is rather difficult because I am swaying, losing my balance and having to hold onto something to stop myself falling over!He asks me what has helped me most, taking anti-depressants, painkillers or homeopathy? I am tempted to say 'having a sense of humour and having a cat for company', but I resist.

Then suddenly it's all over and I haven't even had to 'get my kit off', as Helen Mirren would say.

Finally, two weeks later, I get the form that tells me that I have 'satisfied the test'. Is that all? I feel like I should get a certificate to frame at the very least.   It is finally over, until I get the next dreaded IB50, probably in about eight months time!

   (Fictional Names were used in this story to protect the innocent!) : )

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