Guinea Pig

Published April 28, 2017 by helentastic67

Guinea Pig

I find I’m often asked to take part in trials because I seem to respond well to treatments and I’m articulate enough to tell people what’s going on.

There are Pro’s and Con’s to this.

The simple ones being I get to do things I can’t afford and aren’t available through the public medical system. The down side is, I get given less than spectacular equipment that helps them get the results, ongoing funding things they need after lying to me about all the great things they will do/give me.

Guinea Pig 1

All while sabotaging me from getting what I need. Case in point, I was part of a Botox trial to stretch my calf muscles and improve my walking and fix my hyper-extension, so in the time I wouldn’t need a knee replacement.

I was told I’d be put in a cast and if I managed to not fall over, they’d send me home. I’d be recast after a week in a slightly more uncomfortable position (calf to toes) and maybe again for a 3^rd and 4^th week. During the 1^st and 2^nd week I left the hospital in self-funded taxi’s (taxi’s I couldn’t afford) and went back to my neighbourhood to appointments I couldn’t live without.

I did get good coffee.

In hospital, I was bullied and not given pain meds my own GP prescribed me. I had supplied my own meds and while kept under lock and key, they refused to give them to me, adding to my stress.

But even after two weeks, they refused to let me go home. They insisted on keeping me in despite knowing it stressed me and I didn’t need to be there. They kept insisting to keep me in because they thought I’d get my cast wet if I went home. My cast got wet! EVERY SINGLE SHOWER I had in hospital.

Eventually, I think I growled sufficiently at a new doctor at the rounds and they set me free.

Public hospitals: They have a body in a bed and they get funded!
Every person their cat and dog came to visit me, access me, learn from me, all so they can tick their boxes and get more funding.
They told me they’d send me home with shoes they would fund. I could no long wear my beloved shoes.

Orthotic shoes

On the way home mum took me shopping for some temporary shoes, as there had been nothing but excuses. They eventually did fund me shoes that wore very quickly, I nearly twisted my ankle and it meant after 4 months needed replacing, I could get another pair funded for 12 months.

Expensive shoes

My mum paid for the cost expensive pair of shoes, I’ve ever owned and they are medically approved shoes. That I then had to find someone to reimburse my mum. She is not wealthy.

I still have my hyper-extension 2 years later.

Guinea Pig 2

Young John – Part 2

Published April 21, 2017 by helentastic67

Taxi driver

Young John Part 2

Young John came to Australia when he was only 14 years old. He was from Greece, back then he was considered too old for school, yet he couldn’t speak English so he got a job in the factories.

Greek-Migration

Eventually, he got a taxi license and drove his own taxi. As a man of his era (he is early 60’s, but thinks I believe his is late 50’s) they were encouraged to reinvest their income into their taxi licenses. So, when they retire, they wouldn’t need a pension. They are the pre-super generation.

Yes! There has been a generation of taxi drivers who don’t speak great English or know their way around Melbourne or know how to use a GPS however, that was not Young John’s fault.

I know Uber has made some waves to the Taxi Industry and I like to image Uber was 1^st launched as a ride-share idea, not a way for people who don’t have great cars/need to substitute their income etc to make a living.

Uber driver

I have this conversation with many taxi drivers all the time and they tell me all the expenses/overheard, they pay for.

They pay for their security cameras, they are required to have for our safety and theirs, they pay for the system that links them to business/fares, not to mention the new car every six year, whatever K’s and insurance.

I now live closer to the rehab centre Young John first took me to and while I don’t go there anymore, anytime I need to have a taxi somewhere I text him. I tell him where I’m wanting to go and what time I need him. He will often just text me back and we often negotiate.

Every time I see Young John, he greets me by calling me “Princess” and that I’m driving him crazy and that he’ll “call my mother” I’ve given him her number and told him to go right ahead, he has yet done so.

Lately Young John has been telling me he regrets even coming to this country that has been his home for 40+ years. He has raised his family here and he has impacted so many lives in the positive, it breaks my heart.

Getting back to why Daniel Andrews deserves a good slap these days is because he had decided to make serious reforms to the taxi licenses.

I understand they are recalling all taxi licenses and paying the owners of said licenses poultry value for them, so they can re issue them out to more people.

The value of the license is supposed to be worth half a million and they look to only be getting paid $100 grand. And no chance to get a pension. And what are the older generation supposed to do?

Mental health has become a serious issue for those taxi drivers who have worked hard all their lives here in Australia. Paid their taxes and raised and educated their children. Now, to be treated like they don’t deserve to feel their contribution has meant anything? Drive Uber?

Uber driver 1

I’m sure this topic is not done.

I’ve had some taxi drivers tell me, if they legalize Uber they will go on to the Dole (New Start!) and drive for Uber meanwhile, Young John won’t be able to get a pension in this country. I should point out, Young John’s day starts at 7am when he drives across town to collect some intellectually handicapped kids (when I say kids, I mean late 30’s) and drives them to a Centre they go to 5 days a week for activities.

I’ve often rang him when I’ve been across town at a rehabilitation facility to see if he could squeeze me in and conveniently, he was passing on his way to deliver another of his regulars to her home. In this case, a 35-year-old who was born mute.

I sat in the back as he chatted nonsense to her, entertaining her on her way home. Her interests were lollies (I know that sounds wrong) Young John singing the 1^st two lines of Old MacDonald, of which he gets wrong anyway. He is amusing.

I try to call on Young John anytime I have Cab Vouchers to pay him, since he mostly squeezes me in, in-between his other “Young People” and doesn’t charge me.

Young John is like my adopted father, he asks about my love life or lack there-of and we discuss the problems in the world. Ironically, the things I don’t discuss with my own father and on the days, that I’ve received the worst news ever, Young John has been there. For a kind word and a hug.

I’m sure I’m not done singing his praises.

I hope I’ve done Young John proud, as he’s been patiently waiting for me to write about what a blessing he has been.

I know, I probably would not still be here but for people like Young John…

Love you John

Young John – Part 1

Published April 19, 2017 by helentastic67

Taxi Driver

Young John Part 1

Now if I do this correctly, you will cry. Get your box of tissues and if need be, pinch yourself to cry if I can’t do it sufficient justice.

I don’t hate many people because it’s an emotion that is a waste of time, however most people wouldn’t be aware (should you need to know) that I went to High School with Victoria’s current Premier. His name is Daniel Andrews.

To be clear, we were not friends, he seemed an OK type, but I had nothing to do with him one way or another beyond a polite ‘hello’ in passing.

Daniel Andrews 1

But these days, if I saw him I would want to slap him. Probably not in the face, because don’t think Orange suits me, but definitely on the back of the head, like a naughty child.

I say this because I’m lucky enough to have a lovely taxi driver in my life.

His name is Young John. (Get the tissues ready!)

I met Young John about seven years ago, when I went to a local Physio/Rehab centre. He car-pool’s people into the centre. That first day Young John’s yellow taxi pulled up in front of my home and as I stepped outside he called out his greeting “Young Helen”, I instantly assumed I must be the youngest person he had to transport that day. I got in and we drove off. We chatted and when we pulled up for the next person, he got out and greeted the next guy “Young George”. Now George may not be his name, I can’t recall, but “George” was not a day shy of seventy and had, had a double hip replacement.

Young George was helped in and we started again, then conversation flowing easily.

Now, I suspect Young John calls everyone ‘Young’ so as not to offend them. Just like you see a Grumpy Old or vicious dog in the street and you want to pat them, you call them ‘puppy’ and they all seem to melt.

I probably should mention why I want to slap the current Premier for Victoria, said Daniel Andrews?

Daniel Andrews

Young John came here when he was too old to go to school, so he got a job in a factory until he was old enough to get a driver’s license and drive a taxi. He pays so much money to maintain his taxi license and has often driven 7 days a week for 40 years.

Currently, the Australian Government is trying to buy back all the taxi licenses for a fraction of their value. And reissue them to move taxi drivers for much, much more than the previous owners are compensated.

And this is just a tiny rant because I don’t have the time to unpack all the things wrong with Uber and the corruption that is Uber.

Uber driver

I will never catch an Uber and the many, many people from disabled, to elderly to intellectually handicapped that Young John ferries around Melbourne every day will not catch an Uber.

Young John is like my adopted father, often every week day I send him a text message suggesting a pick-up time and location to throw me out. Ok, deliver me in one piece. He responds with an offer. I continue the negotiations and often scooter on Hellonwheels to my final destination locally and walk a small block to where he is often waiting for me.

I get in to him saying “Princess! You’re driving me crazy! I’ll call your mother!” I respond with a prompt “Stop it. You love me!”

Princess

There is a great respect and appreciation tween us and I’m always happier for seeing him and having some friendly banter.

It being a Wednesday today I imagine I think he will be happy when I report he is on his way to being a star! As only he deserves!

With love! Young John.

Love you

ABI a bit OCD

Published April 13, 2017 by helentastic67

ABI

ABI a bit OCD?

I’ve probably mentioned I spend some time with groups of people with brain injuries. And you may think it’s not that challenging.

Well, I’m always trying to gather my “words” to sufficiently describe how challenging it is to achieve “things”.

Firstly, I use the term a friend has used for “other things” and say it’s like herding cats! I had to say it! Priceless!

Cat Herding 2

I’m often feeling like I need to make reference to a Tate Gallery exhibition, I was back in 1994 with my then boyfriend. He knew it was wrong but he suggested it looked like the Artist had propped the huge canvases up against walls in a room, sits on a chair with a shot gun before blowing their brains out. I realise that’s dark and that was in an era way before “DARK” was a term. Or “Wrong” or anything!

Tate Gallery art

A perfect example of how smoothly things don’t run is that one person mentions some ‘event, facts or person’ in passing. Another person will hear the end of that ‘whatever’ it was and ask for it to be repeated. It is repeated and someone else hears the end of it again and they ask what it’s about and it is repeated again.

Repeat please

So, some of us hear it three times!

It’s any wonder I go home with a migraine.

Hot off the Press – 10th April, 2017

Published April 10, 2017 by helentastic67

Hot off the press 1 Ok! If I get this right I might be 2 for 2! And I’ve stuck to my commitment of a live-ish current post this week.

Walking and talking

Have been crazy-busy as per usual. Lots of things happening to help stay upright and walking and talking. Had the added hindrance this last week of getting a cold. I last had a cold maybe 8 years ago. It was early days with my disability. Having a cold one-handed really sucks so I made the strong statement back then never to get a cold ever again. Ok, but 8 years isn’t bad, right?

Have a cold

Have been extra busy house hunting still. Saw 2 apartments during the week and 3 on Saturday with my mum who was here. I love my mum! I arrived home in time to sit in my lounge and overhear an auction across the street. The auction started at a million and it went up to 40 grand over that, enforce several interested parties went inside to duke it out. This doesn’t help me being able to afford to even rent in the area. I don’t think you get much for a cool million these days.

House hunting

Autumn is just getting under way in Melbourne. After a great week of laundry weather, Sunday arrived with much needed rain. Great day if you can stay in bed or if you are a duck! I’m the first, so I’m not complaining.

Sunny day

Might take a break from house hunting this week, it’s Easter after all.
Hope you all have a great week, whatever you do.

Its Easter

Challenge

Published April 7, 2017 by helentastic67

Challenge

Here is a little trial, if you like to get you in the instant mindset of having difficulties and challenges similar to that of having a disability.

Occasionally, I get a sore or ‘something’ that requires a bandaid on my right thumb!

That is my texting finger (Or thumb so to speak) I text a lot, it’s good way to message people who don’t have normal hours. I don’t have normal hours, but occasionally it means people can get back to me when they have time.

I even know a few people who keep similar hours as mine. So, if you text, put a bandaid on your text finger or thumb and every time you go to text, see how long it takes you to change your behaviour and routine to use a different finger or method.

Your Welcome!

Public Attitude – Part 2

Published April 6, 2017 by helentastic67

Accessible bathroom

Public Attitude Part 2

Apparently, the cool thing these days for people who are ‘NORMAL’ is to use Accessible toilets in public places for SEX!

No, Really! There is a shopping complex in the city, I would cut through on my way from the train station to where I have my appointment monthly, with my shrink. (OK, my Psychologist/Social Worker, but I like to suggest I need a shrink!) (Or I get ‘shrunk) and I would always make my way to the Food Court down in the basement to use the accessible facilities. There was a doorbell to let people know someone was waiting and often I would be waiting so long the cleaner would come past and report they had been in there for ages.

Luckily for me if I’m desperate I can use the normal Ladies toilets with some difficulty, but I have to wriggle in, close the door, take off both my walking sticks and my bag before locking the door. I have to manage to pull down my pants, holding my upper layers up out of the way.

I think you get my point, so often if I’m not desperate, I wait outside the Accessible toilet door to see that the person departing is actually qualified to have used it!

outside accessible bathroom

Having the cleaner tell me what is more likely to be taking place in there, I confess, I start to knock and ring the doorbell more. What? Will that make it harder for them to finish? Sorry, I meant more difficult! No pun intended…

When they finally depart, a smug woman breezes past, holding the guys hand.

I usually will deliver them a really stern word or two to them and the guy looks back at me with barely a look of remorse.

I’ve waited for other Accessible toilets so long guys have gone into the men’s toilets next door only to reappear a moment later and try the door to the Accessible toilet. I raise my hand to say “that’s why I’m waiting!” and they again disappear into the men’s. I mean, c’mon! Everybody has to go to the toilet!

Hope you have heard the line; “Everybody has to eat! You don’t eat, you don’t shit! You don’t shit! You die!”

So, what if you need to defecate in a public toilet? That’s what it’s there for!

Anyway, excuse I’ve heard from perfectly able bodied people who think it’s acceptable to use Accessible Public Toilets!

waiting

Recently, a guy told me he had stitches coming out on his face! And he had to go to the hospital!

I didn’t notice any stitches, but maybe he should have gotten himself to a hospital!

I think it’s part of an Ice Epidemic more recently, but I also think it’s because people don’t think!

One of these days I might have to make someone my Bitch!

It goes like this! I open the door to the toilet just enough to insist the person next in the queue goes to a local department store, or anywhere and buy me new underwear and pants.

I will not even be able to give them any money…. As it feels like I never have any.

But that gives you an idea. What would you do if you were out in public and had as complete evacuation of your bowels and hadn’t made it to a toilet?

Mmmm….. Exactly!!!

Here is the News – 3rd April 2017

Published April 3, 2017 by helentastic67

Here is the News

About 2 months ago, I suggested to the lovely Noelle my administrator and biggest support. Without her http://www.Hellonwheels/lifeonehanded.wordpress.com would still be on paper and not live.

I have previously mentioned but just to remind you all. I write long hand on paper when the inspiration takes me.

Generally when I need to rant a little, or express my great frustration or want to share…..you get the idea if you have followed my blog long enough. I photocopy my writing and post to Noelle who is interstate and she types them up and we chat by email and social media. As this process, often means the posts that go ‘live’ there is a significant lag. Lately I’ve not written for several weeks, not been rather inspired to share, too busy living, dealing, treading water and keeping my head above water.

So, the plan to do a live blog at least once a week, the first few weeks just didn’t happen. And thankfully, Noelle didn’t push it. I was busy enjoying Jamima’s last few weeks.

I’ve also been house-hunting much to my dismay (there are no words to accurately describe how much I hate this) and dealing with the inadequacies of the NDIS. (Don’t get me started!)

Jamima has now been gone three weeks and obviously, that fateful week where I finally let her go, was just awful. It’s sad even now.

And now, I’m back at the plan of one live post a week of what is going on now…. and obviously, live, meaning I’m tapping away on my iPad and Noelle will edit my dyslexic efforts. I’ll give the final ‘Go ahead!’ And Noelle finds the memes and posts it live.

So, this week, this is the first post and no matter how my weekend goes. No matter how behind I am on my chores (emails, comics, admin, rest) I’ll tap out some words so I stay with my commitment to keep you up to date of what shit I’m dealing with now.

Public Attitude – Part 1

Published March 30, 2017 by helentastic67

Attitude

Public Attitude Part 1

I confess to say PUBLIC ATTITUDE towards people with disabilities has always annoyed me. Even before I had my disability.

I’ve been with a carer shopping at a local market. Said carer at the time was desperately in need of a hip replacement so I helped her lift my shopping from the shopping trolley to her car boot.

Attacking people with disability

A guy walked past with his two young impressionable children, his other half trailing behind and he decided to share his opinion that we did not look disabled and should not have been in a disabled car park. I pointed out to him we had the correct signage to allow us to park there and that it was approved by council in which I lived and my application supported by my doctors, you know the actual people with the appropriate credentials to make such decisions.

Ironically, he was a parent who had taken his kids to the local pub close by before midday and no one thought to work out if he was qualified to be a parent.

Dont judge disability

Opinion

Published March 27, 2017 by helentastic67

Opinion 2

Opinions

It’s weird how the littlest opinion can throw bad information into a fan to create a perfect storm. I once had a Carer complain to the office, my bed and changing it had given her a sore back.

My mum insisted on being at my house when a Team Leader and the OH & S person assessed my bed! They growled I was not to have the carers flip the mattress, which I insisted I would not even ask.

Bed 1

My mum keeps insisting I replace my bed. My father made it years ago, it’s mostly a sleigh bed with exception of the base being lower than the bed head. I’ve put the bed together more times single handed, than I care to remember.

And my older sister gets on-board to suggest I get a new bed. With what exactly? And then downscale all my bedding? I repeat – With What?

Bed 2

My older sister recently bought me a new walking stick with a really cool handle. It’s my early birthday present, but I think part of the reason she gave it to me is because my mum is of the opinion my walking stick has given me Carpel Tunnel Syndrome.

I don’t know, I wake up in the morning and I have pins and needles in my right hand. Just reminding you that my good hand, the only hand that works. I don’t take my walking stick to bed! Ergo! Case in point! Walking stick not to blame for Carpel Tunnel.

It’s that I do EVERYTHING WITH MY RIGHT HAND.

Opinion 3