Confession Time

Published November 28, 2015 by helentastic67

Confession

Confession Time

OK! Something you should know about me. I’m grumpy! I admit it! I get really grumpy! It’s been coming on more and more in recent years. Since acquiring my disability, obviously, but every now and again the “Grumpiness” gets turned up a notch.

I have no patience for whiny – little – bitches. You know the ones, I can’t even watch some reality TV shows anymore.

“It’s too hard!”

“It hurts!”

“It hurts me to move!”

“I can’t wear what I want!”

“Take a deep breath sweetie!”

“Skinny jeans aren’t for everyone!”

I haven’t even tried to put on jeans for about 4 years. Doing jeans up one handed is a pain in the arse! Particularly if you need to get to the toilet in a hurry.

But it’s more a grumpiness because plenty of people with real problems don’t do enough to help themselves and they want everyone to rescue them.

Sometimes, it’s a conscious decision about accepting that I’ve been dealt a shitty situation and I’ve just got to deal with the consequences so how do I do that?

Oh and people don’t like to hear advice from me and when they complain about the same old things I reign in the obvious tips because they didn’t get it the last 3 times I suggested it!

I’m done!

Grumpy rant over!

My Left Arm Doesn’t Work

Published November 28, 2015 by helentastic67

Every day, there’s something new to detest about having a disability. There’s just different ways with how to deal (or not) with how it affects you mentally.

As yet, I haven’t told you what my disability is, I know Soz Bro (my carer gave me this one today) but to give you an idea. My left arm does not work. I’ve lost my eyesight and about 5 shitty things later, I also suffer anxiety and depression. They weren’t first but to be clear they don’t help!

So the situation looks like this, I work on my left arm and hand all the time. All the time, when I’m sitting on the couch, on the tram, lying in bed trying to sleep.

ALL THE TIME! When I’m anxious. I also out of habit use my nails too long so I do my absolute best to trim them so I don’t scratch my good hand while I try to exercise my bad hand…

My carer has recently commented I have very short nail beds on my left hand.

I thought about this overnight and realised sometimes when the beautician files those nails to clean up the mess I’ve created, they hurt and I realise I can feel them…

So this gets to my point – finally. I can’t tell that I’m hurting myself when I trim my own finger nails!

I was a nail biter for my first 34 years! And it’s another story for another day. But my point right now is back then I NEVER BITE MY NAILS SO BADLY I COULDN’T FEEL IT!

2.30am

Published November 28, 2015 by helentastic67

2.30am

There’s a really shitty thing about having a disability, there’s not lots of ‘good things that happen in your life. It’s just more shit things in varying degrees of more shit.

It’s not that I’m always being negative, it’s just really hard to put a positive spin on ‘shit!’

Example; A few weeks ago I had a review for my application for Public Housing. And it seemed that all of a sudden I might not even be eligible because I earn too much! WHAT THE FUDGE???

It seems I earn $12.30 too much per week. I’m not wealthy by any stretch of the imagination. I pay my rent, I pay my bills and I get no funding. I go shopping and while I’m not extravagant I’ve started to do what I call the ‘Povo-shop’ which is to only buy the things on the shopping list and to watch the total at the register with my heart in my throat.

So you can see it’s hard to sugar coat it! It’s hard to put a positive spin on living day to day this way.

And then often friends don’t know how to respond. Trust me, I know it’s horrible, which is why I mostly don’t say anything, but if I say something, I’m not telling you so will offer to fix my problems. I don’t know what would fix my problems.

Please just have some empathy.

It looks like this; don’t say nothing, say something. It might be something really simple like this:

“I’m really sorry, it sucks! I didn’t know it was that bad, let me know if I can do anything…..”

Just so you know, I rarely ask for help, so don’t be afraid I’ll call on you for anything but a chat…

Human Rights

Published November 28, 2015 by helentastic67

Human Rights

Human Rights

There are many examples, I will give where you would imagine, just because I have a disability and because someone collects a wage from a job where they provide a service to those with a disability that you would be treated with respect and provided the services they are entitled to.

I hope my blog over time will express my experience of this sector and that if it is challenging to give a client/patient/customer, what they need then, it’s ok to withhold a service, not delivered a service or just outright bully so you will stop asking.

There are times now, how I’m treated, is outright shocking! And I’m someone who knows what’s going on and how to organise my life and my needs and my services and I dread to think how the people who can’t self-advocate get treated.

I once received a call offering me Public Housing. I know these calls are often met with jubilation and great relief, but I often get a little grumpy and demand “Yes? Where is it?”

Even my friends no longer get excited anymore and demand to be told “Where is it?” On this occasion they building was a new apartment block and the gentleman on the phone after selling me the fact that it was fully functioning, disability friendly bathroom. He told me I couldn’t take my cat!

I am not one to smuggle my fur-baby into my home. People have to know I come with a cat!

I’ve had good house-mates and shitty house-mates. I’ve had shitty boyfriends. Shitty because they are not still here.

I’ve had shitty friends and good friends. All in the last 16 years. They have all come and gone and are no longer here.

The fur-baby is still here!

I often go days without seeing another human being. So my cat is not an optional housemate. I told the gentleman, my cat didn’t cope without me and I didn’t cope without her.

HE TOLD ME TO HAVE HER PUT DOWN!

Now I think you can now tell when I used the term ‘gentleman’ I was being very generous!

Acronyms Part 1

Published November 28, 2015 by helentastic67

Acromyms 1

ACRONYMS! Part 1

In the early naughty (2000’s) I got a job with an NGO. I started as a client, I was a considerably consistent client and then I was a very consistent staff member for 3 years, despite every 3 months being made to apply for my job again. And consistently being passed over so they could give someone else a much needed position, knowing another position would soon be available for me, so I could have some permanency.

On one occasion I was passed over for a job I was already doing and then I was left to be in the office to train that person. Anyway, I’ll let you guess what kind of job/industry it was with this clue.

The industry was rife with ACRONYM’S!

They had then for EVERYTHING!TAF

First, clients were REF (referred) to us.

Here’s some others –

ETS: Expected to start!

P: Placed!

DNS: Did not start!

PR: Participants Report!

Now, this might give you some ideas what industry I was in. If not here’s a few more – when the clients were finished with us. These were other codes such as:-

END: Contract ended

EX/PTW: Exited/Part time work

EX/FTW: Exited/Full time work

EX/RTW: Exited/Return to work

My very favourite exit code was “WUK”

It was a rare one but when it came someone would ask in the office. It was the kind of environment where there was little privacy. But you learnt by osmosis!

WUK: Stands for “Whereabouts Unknown!”

When I started in this job I was an Administrative Assistant, I never understood what it meant to be in “Admin” but basically means you do whatever needs doing.

Later, when the organisation/company (they ran like a company) restructured. I managed to keep a job and was kindly given the title of T.P.O. (Training Placement Officer) which was a job I had long been doing on the Admin salary. But they made me Part Time! Making it very challenging to do a full time job!

I was only paid to do 19 hours a week. I often stayed after the other girls left at 5pm, I would finally do my job, as I was training 2 Admin girls and a TPC (Training Placement Co-ordinator).

On Wednesday, I would arrive at work and announce to the girls, “Get your questions ready and line up at my desk!”

I’ve done the maths and I should be out of here by lunch!”

The papers would ruffle and there was panic in the air. And my boss would come out at midday and ask me to stay.

I would still be there at 4pm.

Apparently if I’d been doing full time hours for 2 weeks, company policy was that full time hours should have been made permanent.

One day I was walking through the Bourke Street Mall in the city of Melbourne. I had received a call from a new recruit back in the office. I kept walking so I could concentrate on training the Admin Assistant now to use a very graph-heavy government database system, it was very “it’s the thing, above the thing and the thing!”

In the end due to a HR issue I was restructured out of my job. Two incompetent women in office claimed I was bullying them. It was actually the other way round.

After I was gone, they soon followed Effectively, I got the shaft!

Unlike others I had no real presence in the industry as I’d always been in the office working.

I eventually found some work with a TAFE, doing the same job and while they all ran around like headless chooks, they had me “culling exited files.” I was under-utilised because they didn’t trust my ability to do a job.

Rather under-utilized. Sadly that job too ended. This was a job I had in my early 30’s for about 4 years. And because it was very stressful, my medical condition started to show, some odd symptoms and I was diagnosed in the same week, I was let go from the 2^nd employer.

That was a really shitty week.

So if you didn’t work out the industry from all those ACRONYMS. I’ll give you one last one to help.

W4D: Work for the dole

CWC: Community Work Co-Ordinator

And around the office we had many nicknames for it “Work for the coffee scroll” being one of them.

I used to think I was good at my job. I was nice to the people who needed it and I laid down the law and was the “hard-ass” to those that needed it! I was the only one in the office who knew how.

There is one big thing this job prepared me for and that was the understanding of ACRONYMS!

Please be prepared for Part 2 to this.

Hell’s Treats

Published November 27, 2015 by helentastic67

Ginger Kisses Hell’s Treats

So, for many years now I’ve made my ‘treats’ and given them away. I’ve done this because it motivated me and giving something yummy to people is a nice thing to do. For about 6 or 7 years I did this every month to some of the ABI groups I go to and to my neighbours where I live so I can introduce myself and they can know who I am and what I’m about.

About 2 years ago I made the decision I could no longer afford to give these treats away and that being generous was making me poor. Sorry poorer (is that even a word?) and I was told I would need to start listing my ingredients and to do a food handling certificate. The first, I said “Hell NO” and the second I said “find me some funding” and that never happened.

I assure you, I come from good CWA (Country Women’s Association) stock.

If you want to risk it, I suggest you get out an Epi pen and train a colleague and give it a try.

I really favour my favour my Ginger Kisses as even one-handed they are easy to make, even if I start the filling late on a Sunday night I can still find the energy at 1am to smash out 3 packets before going to bed.

Please help support my Independence!

Occasionally I’ll make a packet mix and when I do you will forgive me. I’ll not tell you it’s a packet mix, but when I make something from scratch I will definitely tell you.

There is a recipe I like to make that has a difficulty rating 20+.

Because it has many ingredients and they all require careful measuring. Tablespoon of vanilla essence, 1/4 teaspoon bicarb soda or baking powder.

Try doing that one handed!

Yes! ONE HANDED!

And you can get back to me with your grumpy attitude about occasionally smashing out a packet mix. This particular recipe I love to offer people – guess the secret ingredient?

No! Straight out. IT IS NOT POT! MARIJUANA OR MARY JANE. Not my thing, but I imagine if I could afford it I wouldn’t be giving it away.

I’m yet to cost these so that’s going to be a while.

And when I do make a packet mix if asked I will admit, this by muttering it out the corner of my mouth so it’s mostly indistinguishable. Such is my shame.

Hell on Wheels/Life One Handed

Published November 27, 2015 by helentastic67

Hell on wheels

So, you have probably worked out my blog is not like all the other blog’s you have read and you could fairly presume so far it’s a little on the dark side.

So I think I’ll take the time now to explain the title of my blog.

“HELL ON WHEELS/Not my Best!” (changed it to Life One Handed)

To be clear, my blog has nothing to do with the super awesome AMC TV show called Hell on Wheels. Yes! I watch it! It makes my list and I’m happy to report I’m actually up to date.

So Hell on Wheels is a nickname a friend of my sisters gave me about 20 years ago. I don’t know why, but he is the only one who calls me that and I always kind of liked it. About 8 years ago, I developed a disability that “someone” in their intimate wisdom decide to sort me out with a Mobility Scooter. Some might call them a Rascal! I’ve always called mine ‘Hell on Wheels!’

I’m still working getting the “stickers” to go on the Red plastic. Hell yes! I got red! Red things go faster!

Sensitivity

Published November 27, 2015 by helentastic67

Sensitivity

Best advice I can ever want to be a personal carer or anything that requires to go into someone’s home. Go easy on the perfume…

As in “Don’t wear any”

Once had a temp carer arrive at my door to take me shopping? As soon as I opened the door I was assaulted by the bouquet of perfume and cigarettes and I was about to get in a car with that. With the windows up because it was winter. So Help Me GOD!

One Foot in Front of the Other

Published November 27, 2015 by helentastic67

One foot in front of the other

Sometimes I know you have to keep putting one foot in front of the other and at times every step is agony and it hurts just to keep breathing.

When does life get easier? I’m just trying to survive and I can’t seem to cut a break.

No Way to Live

Published November 27, 2015 by helentastic67

No way to live

It’s such a simple greeting “How are you?” I get asked it at all my regular stops and appointments. I often get asked the wog version – “How are you? Good.” So they answer it for me also. I just agree. People just presume I am good and I let them believe that because if I was blunt and honest they might be afraid to ask me in the future.

Someone once told me to be honest and tell people the truth. I put this in to practice with someone who deserved to be told the cold hard truth. It was a friend who only see when his life obviously crazy/busy, still has a better outlook than mine right now. I see this guy every few years only and he is more about the promises than actual reality.

So, I was blunt and I told him I was on anti-depressants and he told me straight back he was too!

In reality, he is on that knifes edge when he has invested serious cash in a business and he’s waiting to see if it pays off. Some of the success hinges on their choice in location, which is always a gamble.

But through the course of our last catch up I became aware I’d not been considered worthy of an invite to his 40^th! Nor, despite being his friend for about 15 years, did not get invited to his wedding!

Let me impress upon you when his last relationship fell apart, I was the ‘friend’ he called every fucking day with the same “poor-me” issues.

So we’re both on anti-depressants and I decide to tell him I’m on the PILL! He is startled for a second and I think he is thinking I’m getting very, very lucky, so I point out in my 40 years I’ve never been on the PILL and I’m only on the PILL now, so once a month I don’t burst into tears at everything. I’m on the PILL because I’ve got crazy hormones!

I once only wanted to kill people every month, just one day every month but I wanted to kill someone. These days, crazy hormones makes me want to cry. I mean really cry. At everything!

I get out of bed, I cry. I get in the shower. I cry. I get out of the shower. I cry. Puppies! Kittens! Did I make my point?

That’s no way to live.

Sometimes I think I should create one day a year, where I’m brutally honest with everybody! And there should be no consequences…

It would go like this; I would call my local council who provide my carers and I could tell them they were incompetent! I could call family members and tell them they were doing sub-standard job as family members (note, now I softened that) I would call all my ex-boyfriends and tell them they were a ‘dud-root’ (it’s a classic term!).

I don’t know if I got to the point I started to make when I first sat to write this, but I think I did still succeed to make a point.