Life One Handed

All posts in the Life One Handed category

NDIS

Published January 14, 2019 by helentastic67

ndis 1

NDIS

One of these days Alice! One of these days! One of my work colleagues (still a friend) from fifteen years ago, used to say that to me all the time when I was giving him a bit of SASS.

one of these days alice

What can I say? I refer to him as my Gay Silver Fox.

grey silver fox

Anyway, I digress.

One of theses days I want to be able to tell someone how amazing it is to have the NDIS. If your new to my blog, National Disability Insurance Scheme.

how great is the ndis

I don’t want to utter the words. It’s an absolute shitstorm of red tape and the goal posts moving and it’s a friggin’ nightmare.

Why is it so hard?

Should point out the NDIS is the ONLY FUNDING I’ve had.

Wait, I had some one-off funding of $9,000 about five years ago, which is how I bought my laptop, iPad and iPhone and a number of other things.

ipad

When you first get given that kind of funding and a time limit of six months to spend it. (it must be spent on disability related such and such) You struggle to imagine how you will use it all.

funding

But, nailed it, I did.

nailed it

But, seriously the NDIS!!!

seriously ndis

Junkies

Published January 11, 2019 by helentastic67

junkies 1

Junkies

Today I thought I’d have a bit of a grumpy rant about Junkies and I’ll premise this post by quoting Russell Brand when he appeared on Alan Carr’s Grand National Spectacular.

alan carr

If you are not familiar with his show, he’s from the UK and he’s night time show is similar to the American late-night shows and he starts the show offering his guest a beverage that he throws together at his drinks tray.

alan carr drinks

Now, Russell Brand has very publicly quit all of his bad habits and advocated to Governments about the problems of living as a heroin junky and such.

russell brand

So, there is that awkward moment where Alan Carr turns to his guest and prompts him with a “Oh, now you have a problem with…..?” Bit of an open-ended question. Very awkward.

now you have a problem

But rather brilliantly, Russell Brand responds with “I didn’t have a problem with drugs and alcohol” “I had a problem dealing with Life Problems” and I find that I greatly admire Russell Brand for that infinite wisdom.

lifes problems

So, it’s with infinite annoyance as not having a problem “dealing with life/pills/drugs/alcohol” that when I went to the chemist a month ago to get my over the counter packet of Panadeine, side bar, Panadeine, pretty low on Opiate list and it takes me months to get through a packet of 24, as I skip out my Panadol (very low grade opiate) for period pain as I’m not allowed to have blood thinners.

low grade opiates

NO MORE NAPROGESIC or as one pharmacist I have known call them the “Special Blue Pill, that stop us killing men” once at the chemist, I was informed I now needed a script for Panadeine.

naprogesic

Damn Junkies

Of course, the pharmacist came over and in front of the regular chic, I mostly get to see at the chemist, comes over to recommend another option off the shelf. I mention I can’t do blood thinners and when anyone starts mentioning Codeine and “whatever” my eyes glaze over.

eyes glazed over 1

I mention my baseline pain management is Panamax and that during my crazy-lady hormone time I swap out the Panamax for Panadeine. But I’ll get a script and this month I’ll hit it with some Oxy norm (5mg high on the Opiate family tree, but only takes the edge off serious pain for me for three hours).

pain relief 1

The regular woman immediately laughed appreciating my humour. The pharmacist looked somewhat concerned and I think I only got exempted from a lecture about being careful etc, because the other lady laughed.

pharmacy lecture

And I got a script.

I returned to the chemist a week later with said script and was informed there was a problem at the manufacturers, so no appropriate pain relief again.

no pain relief

I gave it a rest for a few weeks before revisiting the chemist, only to be informed the script was rendered useless, because they had discontinued. I was offered other, other options and codeine and other words were bandied about. (My brain just goes to sleep)

pain relief

I don’t want to have to think about other options, I can’t do blood thinners. Why do I keep having to have the same conversation?

get home

Fine!  I’ll go home and hit my pain with some (Oxy norm) and a sledge hammer.

Apparently now, I can get Panadeine Extra and guess what I need, a different script. FARK!!!

Luckily, I book my GP every four to six weeks and even if I rang him, he would happily send me a script. But my point is, JUNKIES and their inability to deal with life (thanks Russell Brand) I had to jump through hoops to get.

jump through hoops

Furthermore, ironically when I started writing this post a week ago, in the back room of my favourite café, where I overhear the usual first world problems.

Three older ladies at a table beside me were discussing their ‘Problem Child’. The way she was speaking, I imagined said child to be around seven and maybe on the Autism Spectrum? I imagine Autism to be diagnosed earlier than that and I also imagine this woman to be too old to have seven-year-old. Not being “Ageist” but also imagined she was talking about a grandchild, because there was a slight sense of ‘distance’ in how she was discussing the ‘issue’.

problem child

So, write busy, eating, drinking and writing several pages of this post, I soaked up the conversation around me and managed not to react. (I’ve been accused at work years ago of having Dumbo Ears. Well, in my defence you do learn by osmosis in some work environments)

dumbo ears

So, the problem child, I’ll give it to you straight, seventeen years old, male, addicted to gaming. Um? Yes, it’s an addiction when you have to have your internet cut off at midnight so your teenage kids sleep. Sure, but seventeen-year-old boy.

addicted to gaming

Poor kid, was getting slammed for doing what a lot of teenage boys (sometimes grown men) do for oddly, their social down time.

So, yeah, also my eye rolls that this mum was putting her son’s addiction to computer games in the same league as Heroin.

eye roll

I have two words for how to snap teenagers out of their habits of too much gaming. Adult diapers. That should snap them right out of it, no.

adult diapers

Oddly having struggled to get any sugar from the sugar dispenser, I had helped myself to sugar from the ladies table, I had struggled so much, I gave up.

sugar

I couldn’t be bothered asking for their help so had given up, eventually, Gabriella came to clear the tables and I mentioned the sugar bottle being blocked and I asked the ladies beside me if they had trouble with getting any sugar? I was informed they hadn’t even used the sugar and the look I received as if I had a ‘Problem’ with sugar. I have half a teaspoon, hardly a problem.

“Several months later I am horrified to realise the solution now called Panadeine Extra, comes in a 24 packet and costs me $16 and I use half of this over a 3-day time frame.

panadeine extra

My other scripts only cost me $6.50 each. And then there’s everything else I take to keep me healthy I pay out of pocket, that I can’t get on a script.

 

I am aware this sounds like first world problems but I don’t have the option to not get medications and vitamins and the like. These things keep me healthy. Keeping healthy keeps a roof over my head and my independence. That’s how I deal with life issues!

stay healthy

I’m not drowning my sorrows in a bottle, yet when others do it, it still impacts me too.

 

Just a Thought

Published January 7, 2019 by helentastic67

just a thought

Just a Thought

Just want to share a quick thought on something.

I’m a real ‘Nester’ so I love homewares, but I not a drinker. I’m not suggesting they are mutually exclusive, but hear me out, I’m almost there.

homewares

I love a Martini glasses.

martini glass

But don’t like Gin

What is that stuff?

evils of gin

It’s pure evil.

Who made that?

One day, I’m going to get some Martini glasses and make dessert to go in them.

dessert in a martini glass

I know, I know.

That wasn’t hard was it.

not hard

Question Time

Published January 4, 2019 by helentastic67

question time

Question Time

If you are not at all familiar with ABI/TBI or even disability, let me give you a very simple piece of advice. Never, ever, ever bombard someone with questions without time to answer. Actually, that’s relevant to decent human behaviour, however it’s even more important to people with an ABI or simply a disability.

one question at a time

Now, I’m very lucky I think and process quickly, however it’s not normal for anybody with a brain injury.

My mum has been known to ask a question when helping me move house and by the second question, I answer with a further “Yes, No, No, Yes, No” and she will ask “what are they for?” to which I inform her “Your next three questions. We laugh and all is well.

answer mums question

However, it’s common someone else I’m related to who doesn’t spend much time with me will throw a question at me. (Note; How I’ve kept writing this topic? Because what the hell, my family don’t read my blog anyway.) I suspect that’s common for a lot of bloggers.

stupid question

Moving into an apartment has meant over the winter I will need to rely on a clothes dryer to get things dry and I don’t have one.  I’ve already upgraded my washing machine to a brand-new front loader, so I use less water and it spins better. I now need a dryer which will sit directly on top.

washer dryer

‘Someone’ stated to me. “You probably don’t need one.” Then proceeded to attempt to convince me I could visit a laundromat and rather than wait for me to explain how that just couldn’t work, I am assaulted with reasoning and assaulted with reason’s why going to the laundromat with a pile of clothes, towels, sheets, heavy blankets (they wouldn’t go in the dryer).

laurndromat

Eventually, when this person paused to take a breath, I pointed out I would injure my back carrying a plastic tub of heavy damp items. In reality, I would have trouble getting it out of my apartment as the door is heavy and awkward.

apartment door 1

I would need to put it down to dig out my swipe card to use in the lift. Again, putting down my laundry basket (these days a square plastic cube) and picking it up again. Once on the ground floor, I have to press a button to close the entrance door, then get the door open, pick up the cube and get outside.

laundry basket

Did I mention, I use a walking stick when out? Do I need to finish describing the ludicrous mess (is that a word) of that suggestion?

walking stick 1

Sometimes, family will do their very best to convince you of another way so you don’t need to spend that money. They don’t need to help you do ‘that’ thing and then they don’t feel inadequate or pressed to fit you in their lives.

family assistance

It’s great to be loved.

to be loved

Procastination

Published December 31, 2018 by helentastic67

Procrastination

Procrastination

People have a habit of problem solving my issues by trying to talk me out of needing the very thing I know I need. Anything to get out of having to help me do the actual thing.

Problem solving

We’ve all worked with those people who if they just did their damn job.

Do your job

Happy New Year

 

Wishing everyone a very Happy New Year… May 2019 be all you can dream of…

Hostage

Published December 24, 2018 by helentastic67

Hostage

Hostage

There is a reference I often make to what it’s like having a disability and I’m certain people who have more severe disabilities than I, feel this way.

Disability Hostage

Now, I also premise this by saying I’m pretty sure my family don’t read my blog. So I’m good to go. I can write what I like.

Let me just say, the breakdown of my family is this. My parents are both still amongst the living (not complaining), they divorced when I was about twenty-five and I knew it was coming for the ten years before that. I have an older sister by two years, who I see once or twice a year (she lives closest), I have one surviving younger sister (16 years younger) who lives with my mum. My parents both live three and half hours drive away, my father, I see at Christmas when I’m up that way. He won’t travel to Melbourne to see me and if in town, he won’t bother to visit either. He has not seen most of the places I’ve lived, in the last twenty years. I think he’s seen one, he doesn’t call me, I call him.

Family

I speak to my mum twice a week and while that’s five times less than it used to be, we got along much better than we used to. Mum comes down every so often for serious appointments and such.

Ah, background done. Now to my point!

During smiley holidays and such (Christmas, Easter, what-not) I will go to spend time with family. It’s that or stay at home alone. So, I go and then I lose my independence immediately. I have my mum’s bedroom and I hibernate. I want a shower I have to negotiate when someone is prepared to assist me if I go outside, I generally don’t step off the verandah as the last time I went outside my mum called to me: “If you go for a walk be careful by the water tank there’s a snake over there!” I promptly went back inside to relative safety. Motivation to go anywhere is hard to draw on.

Snakes

To go anywhere requires someone to drive me either twenty minutes to a decent meeting place with medicine(coffee) or an hour where I can arrange to meet friends who might visit family once a year at Christmas time. Any of these adventures requires money I don’t have and logistical nightmares of being able to get home again when I need it.

Drive for coffee

I put my things in the fridge and when I go to get them out again, two other people have moved them to get to other things and I might be standing in just the wrong spot/angle and my things are in my blind spot and I can’t see the forest for the trees.

Fridge

The environment is a very comfortable space for the two that live there and throwing me into the mix I feel terrible to put someone out to be able to join in. Everything I can do to contribute, someone has to move things to prepare for me and I feel more of a hindrance than an adult. So, I hibernate.

Hibernate

Oh yeah, where I spend Christmas, I’m also socially isolated by other means, no mobile reception, I divert my phone and if they can’t remember their wi-fi password I’m screwed. So, hostage. Like I said.

Christmas Hostage

 

Melbourne

Published December 21, 2018 by helentastic67

Melbourne 1

Melbourne

Well, I think it’s about time I mentioned how much I love Melbourne and why. A little bit about the layout of our fair city.

I love Melbourne

I think I knew from my teenage years I would move to Melbourne. I grew up in North East of Victoria and it seemed the town (cough/ choke) they consider it a rural city, just didn’t evolve or progress. So, Melbourne here I come.

Moving to Melbourne

We always did day trips to Melbourne (3.5 hours by car) to go to Art Supply stores for my older sister, to check out the National Gallery (now known as the NGV. Because we have to ACRONYM THE SHIT OUT OF EVERYTHING, right) and to University Open Days. I got to tag along when my older sister was getting ready to go to Uni, she ended up being a poor art student in an actual rural University, country town (not in Melbourne).

National Gallery Victoria

However, I moved to Melbourne when I was nineteen, I transferred my supermarket job to the city and was a poor art student for two years.

I first lived in Brunswick in a shared household scenario. That is a harsh rude awakening to life, but you make it work. My parents paid my rent while I was studying and I paid everything else. I was a student for only two years. The course was a second choice for me and while I didn’t continue in that career, I discovered the Alternative Club Scene, which became my social life and where I discovered a different style of music culture and such.

Alternative club scene

 

Yet, to cover the club stuff, but not today. Maybe in this series, when I first moved to Melbourne, it was 1992. Rent was cheap, so cheap, only $50.00 per week (and my parents paid it) and I lived in Brunswick, which was not cool then. I lived in that area for a year or so, then relocated to South Yarra.

South Yarra

Here’s the fun part.

Melbourne breaks down like this – There is a river that goes through the centre, called the Yarra (pronounced Yarrah) don’t get excited, it’s not a river to go swimming in, unless it’s an era of concrete boots. (Mafia, crime etc) and that’s not swimming, that’s drowning.

Yarra River

Anyway, it’s considered everything North of the Yarra is North-side, South of the Yarra is the South side. Then there’s the Western suburbs, which we like to dis (disrespect) and the East, my take on the Eastern suburbs is ‘old-money’ and I don’t know anyone who can afford to live there. There are pockets all over the inner city, Sunshine, Prahran, Brunswick, Northcote (all over Melbourne) where the wog’s settled when they immigrated here, which was around 1940’s.

Western Suburbs

There is still a sense of presence in all of those areas of that generation of Europeans. I think the Western suburbs even more so and they kept the factories and car industries alive.

Wogs

Anyway, it seemed once I move to the southern side of the city, that’s where I thrived. My club career took off (if you can call it that) and that’s where I stayed.

For some years, I lived in several places a stones throw from Chapel Street, first in South Yarra, then Prahran, then in Windsor. Now back in the 90’s, Chapel Street was the place to be, designer label shops, café’s, street culture people.

Chapel St

The place I lived in South Yarra, (to this day, the cheapest rent I ever paid. $262.15 per month) there was a Porsche mechanic three doors down, so they would work late and you could hear them ‘Fanging it’ in the back streets at 3am.

But anyway, I digress.

I only recently realized I wasn’t even in Melbourne that time for ten years, I guess it felt longer because I kept myself so busy seven days and nights a week. But alas, sooner later all good things must come to an end and I was short changed by one of my club bosses and I quit and they retaliated by firing me from my bread and butter club job. (more on that topic another time) That and a crappy apartment with a terrible smell ended my first adventure in Melbourne. I moved back to the country for two whole tortuous years.

Back to the country

I went to live with my mum and my younger sister. Allow me to paint a picture. Hormonally, my mum was sliding into the Pause (Menopause) and my younger sister was at the beginning. It was like Michael Jackson’s Black and White album ear and I had to sit her down and explain Michael Jackson was really black. Can you imagine how that conversation went?

Hormonally Challenged

So, I was living way out in the country, wood fires for heat, dirt roads, didn’t drive, had to go for a twenty-minute car ride to get to town where twice a day (once at 6am so that doesn’t count) there is a V-Line bus that takes you to other towns and the train to Melbourne.

Vline

This was (I refer to it as) mosaic phase. I got active again, did some market stalls (didn’t make money/didn’t break even) and because seemingly music was still the same in my country town, I grew up in had not changed at all.

I proceeded to attempt to start an Under-Age Music Club. I registered it, I got a bit of a group together to do all the things and promoted it to the High Schools through my old contacts and network.

Underage

There was a music shop in town that had been there from when I had been a teenager and the owner would be visited by anyone returning from wherever it was they had escaped to.

I had hoped to get some space to run said club from and while I had some contacts and I made some noise. It never got up and running.

It didn’t close away an opposition music store coming to town (which made the music shop owner very happy) but didn’t change the music culture of well anything. After two years of trying to make stuff work living in the country.

Music culture

(if you don’t drive, don’t go to the pub to drink to socialize and don’t drive a ute) or work there is nothing more there for you and every few months I’d train back to Melbourne to visit all my people, go clubbing and stay each night at a different person’s house (just friends).

Run away

It was time to get back to life in Melbourne, I was effectively made to feel I’d overstayed my welcome at my mum’s and I found a way to go back to the city, which I’ve always felt was my true home.

Overstay

I rented a tiny room in Hawthorn (the east) with a male friend of the family (through my older sister) and only had a few things for a while, where I did a business course to start my own business. I got back into the club scene however, not as a job. After six months of attempting to rent on the south side and starting my own business, ‘to take over the world’ (splutter, cough) I moved to the north side.

Take over the world

I’ve been here ever since. I think my south side era is over. It’s not like Chapel Street Prahran stayed super awesome anyway.

Last time I visited that neighbourhood, I recognised a familiar face while standing waiting for some traffic lights. He must have thought I looked familiar too, although in a different way, because he asked ‘Did we have sex?’ Um, call me crazy (dare you) however I subscribe to the ‘if we have sex I would remember’ and you would remember my name.

Familiar faces

I, of course said no, but not rudely. Kept walking and about two minutes later, I remembered his name, that he worked bar on the second floor at one of the clubs I worked for and that I made a special effort when distributing Brunswick Street, Fitzroy on a Wednesday to time my run to get to the café he worked at, as his day job so he could have a coffee with me.

Remember his name

To be clear, he was mouthy to stoned to turn up to work on time, but I’m just saying my brain injury has not affected my memory.

If you have been in Melbourne long enough you will recognise the banter and throwing shade (need a different term, gentle teasing) about which side of the Yarra people chose to live on.

Melbourne Banter

I was recently on the phone to someone and I indicated to him, while I’ve moved further north (into an unnamed suburb I won’t mention) and I’m on the border of a street I always said I would not live beyond. He responded on the phone that he had told his wife he couldn’t live north of the Yarra because he had nothing to go with a bullet proof vest.

Bulletproof Vest

I laughed but hey SLAP.

In Australia, we thankfully don’t have gun violence like in America (I do have a few American regular followers) and sadly, one happened on Hoddle Street on the north side of town.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hoddle_Street_massacre

I remember when it was on the news. I was (how old was Helen?) again, I’m sure to circle back to this topic, stay tuned.

Stupid

Published December 17, 2018 by helentastic67

Stupid

Stupid

Now, it might surprise you to know that I get asked a lot of stupid questions. I’m generally pretty good at dealing with the ‘stupid’. At times I disappoint myself, I’ve not been able to shut down the ‘stupid’ with my first answer, so when the ‘stupid’ continues if in public, others will usually witness my frustration before the ‘stupid’ person does.

Stupid questions

Fifteen years ago, when I was working and asked stupid questions when on the phone, I would bang my phone on the surface of my desk several time. Next time it happens to you, try it.

Smile to your face

It really can bring a smile to your face.

If the person on the other end of the phone asks what that was for, you can just respond with “That was a stupid question.”

Thats a stupid question

I digress, I wear a badge on my cuff and collar from Vision Australia that CLEARLY STATES.

Low Vision Badge

“I HAVE LOW VISION”

And this is the state of the ‘stupid’

A guy on the tram today, presumed it meant I worked there. Which I’ve found is common because people are idiots and don’t read.

Idiots

I always respond to this misassumption that they should read the badge. This doesn’t mean they bother to read it then, but still, this guys level of ‘stupid’ was next level. He wore glasses, but that’s not really relevant to his question. I imagine he is unaware of what Vision Australia actually does.

https://visionaustralia.org/

You don’t go there for eye tests or diagnosis. The health of my eyes is perfect. However, it’s what’s going on in my brain with my AVM that has permanently affected my vision loss and it’s not coming back.

Low Vision not good

Now you might think the ‘stupid’ is over, but no. He must work in the call centre (no offense to anyone that does) because he then asked;

“If Vision Australia could change just one thing, what would it be?”

Now, that is stupid isn’t it? I told him I wasn’t going to answer it.

Stupid is as stupid does

 

Favourite Things

Published December 14, 2018 by helentastic67

Favourite things

Favourite Things

I would think this would be common for all people with an ABI, but people don’t realise the emphasis and importance on ‘sleep’.

Importance of sleep

So, I seriously think my top five favourite things would be;

  1. Sleep
  2. Sleep
  3. Sleep
  4. Sleep
  5. Sleep

Sleep

Ok, but seriously, in no particular order.

  1. Sleep
  2. Food
  3. Cooking
  4. Coffee/cup of tea
  5. TV

No Particular order

Oh, I know I cheated, putting two together, but I had to keep room for having a cat, which still didn’t fit.

Having a cat

Looking back over my life, the way I often dealt with stressful times, I would sleep.

Life

Damn it and internet.

Internet

Staff

Published December 9, 2018 by helentastic67

Staff

Staff

It’s surprising how often I am mistaken as staff. As in “Do you work here?” or I wish people would bother to ask, but no don’t be ridiculous. That would make sense.

Do you work here

Today I was in my local supermarket and I had a man come up to me as I was waiting to pay for my one item. The man asked me if there was a rest room for the public there. Now, I don’t know any supermarket that do. It was not in a shopping complex and I imagine not, but I suggested the man ask a staff member.

Restroom

I didn’t at all think I should be misconfused/mistaken as working these since I was sitting on my mobility scooter at the time.

Mistaken

WTF

A staff member came past so I asked her.

“Why yes they do.”

What?

What 1