Organised

Published March 24, 2017 by helentastic67

Organised

To some I might seem OCD/ADHD, to others anal or a control freak, however I just think I’ve developed coping mechanisms or systems to survive.

Let me give you an example;

You take a sip of your cuppa T and wonder if you put sugar in it because it tastes a little dry…. (you know that weird dry taste when you need just a sprinkle of sugar?)

Cuppa T 1

You stir it, taste again. If still not sure, I check the kitchen. Once I’ve finished with the sugar bowl, I put it back where it belongs, on top of the microwave.

I have limited space in my kitchen, also so that helps keep things tidy by putting thing where they ‘belong’.

But I have plenty of “systems” and when someone else comes into my home and moves things around, it’s a very careful balance.

Not helped by my eyesight or lack there-of. I often have to go into an area or room twice. And then if I have people that move things without thought, that is beyond frustration…

Organised 2

Retirement

Published March 19, 2017 by helentastic67

Retirement

I had a day off yesterday! I know, right? It’s nice to imagine being retired every day, is a day off. But alas, no! I do not have that kind of retirement; my weekdays are often filled with the appointments that help keep me going. Maybe, I’ve mentioned previously, chiropractor, acupuncture, shiatzu, myotherapy, GP appointments and the list goes on. I’m not even seeing a physio or an OT at the moment.

So, as I said, yesterday I had a rare day off. I confess, I slept until 1pm, with a false start at around 9.30am when my Mepacs alarm woke me. Damn blast-it. I blame Facebook for my late night… Oh, early morning the night before.

You know Facebook, you see a cute cat post, (yes, I’m that person) and the stupid thing won’t share it, so you spend 2 hours going through your newsfeed trying to find it again.

Case in point why I only get on once a week or so to do more then return messages and daily pokes. Yes, I’m that person trying to keep it alive, but when I finally surfaced I spent the afternoon making and returning calls, often both phones at the same time, emails.

And I still didn’t manage to put it all together to have lunch until 5.30pm.

Depression and Stats

Published March 17, 2017 by helentastic67

Depression

Depression and Stats

Last night I was looking back over my recent posts and noticing the number of ‘Likes’ some posts have over others. I am definitely noticing that some posts strike a chord with people and that’s when they start to follow and then they seem to not stick around.

Stats

I, obviously don’t post to be popular, I just found it a little amusing, 7 complete strangers liked my post on depression. Clearly, I don’t want to talk about depression, every single post. That would be depressing…

I find the way I deal with my depression is, I vent some and I play a little loud music. Then, I hibernate. I find people don’t understand depression and they don’t realise you can be depressed and still be up and about walking around.

Loud music

Are we all meant to be at home sitting in a dark room, wearing black, looking pale?

I confess, I do wear a lot of black, a heavy grey jacket, today on account of the weather, but under that layers of black! NO, really layers.

Dressed in black

But anyway, where was I? Oh, yes…. Depression, I think writing about it, vent, but do something to move the negativity or else nothing changes.

Sometimes, maybe we just have to change our expectations and disappointment doesn’t snowball to be beyond despair.

I realise this sounds pessimistic, but I wonder if I’ll get more than 2 Likes for this post?

Pessimistic

Music on Hold

Published March 15, 2017 by helentastic67

Music on Hold 1

Music on Hold

Music! The making of serial killers. The Australian Government Agency, then manages the distribution of welfare is called Centrelink. The nickname a friend used to call it was ‘Stupidlink’ which is a much politer version that what most people call it.

What I’ve found is if you are respectful, they will help you. This is when you get to speak to someone in their call centre. I put off calling them until I absolutely have to, because there’s nothing like being on hold for an hour just to tell them nothing has changed. I’m still poor, I still have a disability and I’m still living on the edge.

And that’s all after being tortured by the ‘On hold music’. I get the fact that the classical music chosen is meant to soothe, but it’s too busy! It’s too busy, and I can imagine people with serious mental health issues would want to kill themselves.

I like to refer to it as the music that is the making of serial killers.

Music on Hold 2

Family – Part 2

Published March 13, 2017 by helentastic67

Family Pt 2

Family Part 2

I’ve been procrastinating this topic, because it’s not an easy topic to cover. I don’t know how other bloggers deal with this however, maybe I should be able to say what I like and if family can’t cope, they can start their own blog. However, what generally would happen would be that any assistance I currently have from family would quickly dry up.

We like to imagine that if someone is sick, has a disability or is dying (I’m not dying in case you’re wondering) empathy would kick in and any other ‘issues’ you have had with that person or family member, you would be the bigger person and put it aside, get over it or just move one.

I luckily, have both parents still on this plain, they are 66 and 67 which is younger than most of my friend’s parents. And they have not been together for the last twenty years.

I also have two surviving siblings. My family was rocked by severe grief when I was only 9 years old, when a younger sister died from cancer.

People don’t know how to deal with grief, so they stay away. Apparently ignoring a situation that makes people uncomfortable, makes it easier. So, our family pulled through and when I was a month shy of my 16^th birthday there was another baby in the house.

There I was at 16, a full-time student, working a supermarket job, 15 hours a week (Yes! I was a checkout chick) and changing nappies and babysitting. And preparing (like there was any time) to spread my wings to move to study.

I should point out over Christmas, I had several jobs to help save for College.

This sister is now 28 and living back at home with my mum in the country.

It’s hard to bond with this sister as she has been raised by mum only from the age of 7 and while she moved out of home to study for a few years, she’s now back at home, working and saving for the things in your 20’s. Like travel.

I attempted to bond with her over GOT (Game of Thrones).

Game of Thrones

She watched the 1^st season and decided she wanted to read the books, then mum decided to read the books before they would watch it together. And I’m out…

My older sister actually lives closest to me, about an hour away and I see her less than 5 times a year.

She and I lived together twice in my 20’s and to say it didn’t go well, would be an understatement. Other than I didn’t get a real job, I’m not completely sure what I did wrong to offend her, but when we are together, it’s hard…

Sisters

Jamima – The Human Cat 2

Published March 11, 2017 by helentastic67

Jamima the Human Cat

10th March 2017

Ms Noelle reminded me re-entry that cockroaches are not known to be south of the NSW (New a South Wales) border.

I’ve had 3 in the last month and other friends tell me of the plague they have housed. Unwillingly, but all the same.
The first cocky, I sprayed, grabbed with a tissue and flushed. What? Do you not do that? Trust me, it was gone and not coming back. That was the important part, the second cocky, Jamima caught and ate. Obviously. Thankfully I hadn’t sprayed it.

Cockroach

Last week, I invested in a cockroach killer. I couldn’t get or afford cockroach bombs since I already had an unwell fur-child. But before I had a nuance to put out the baits or the tape or the traps, or whatever the hell I had purchased. I saw another huge cockroach.

I don’t think this was how the product was intended to be used but it was certainly effective all the same.
Farewell my lovely…

Hope you all have a lovely weekend. I’ll be trying to keep busy while missing Meimi.

Jamima 2

Jamima – The Human Cat

Published March 10, 2017 by helentastic67

Jamima face

9th March 2017

So, my apologies if I share some stuff about Jamima patch the pirate cat puddle duck. Seems important for me to share it now. Firstly, Jamima came by this name over time. She came home with her first and last names. Jamima is a well-known doll from the ABC children’s show or children called Playschool.

Puddleduck happened because she wasn’t very kitty litter tray literate. Clearly, I took care of that, mostly.

Over her left eye, Jamima has an interesting patch motley colour. So, that and the fact she loved to sit on my shoulder when she was younger and she so wanted to be close while I did the dishes after work. I would put her on my shoulder while I did it. When housemate ‘B’ came home he would come over and offer her his shoulder, B being taller she happily moved on.

I’ll save some good stories for when I’m ready to reminisce. For about 5-6 years now, every Friday I would finish my shopping adventures with my carers at my local shopping complex by visiting the pet shop. Kitten season of course was heaven but the rest of the year they usually had a cat or two from a shelter to be rehomed. They even have interesting names and a little profile. The pet shop often had bunny rabbits, guinea pigs, fish, I think you get the idea.

Jamima eating

I was a familiar face on a Friday and the staff knew I could be trusted to give a cat a friendly tickle and they also were aware I had a fur-baby at home. Early visits to the pet shop I humoured my carers who couldn’t understand my wanting to visit by telling them, it’s fine! I’ll just go home and act like I haven’t cheated on my cat.

The staff at the pet shop also were made aware that there would come a day when I came in very red-faced and sad and would be prepared to take home any furry ‘thing’ that they had at the time. That pet shop relocated about 6 months ago, not far but I no longer get to visit. Possible a good thing.

Jamima 5

The decision to let Jamima go to heaven in peace was easy when it came down to, if she was happy, if she was coping and if she could go on or was she distressed or in pain. It was not to make life easier for me to deal with her passing.

The vet was lovely, compassionate and empathetic in all the right amounts. She let me know I was the right person to make the decision for when was time and she told me many people wait too long. She kept offering me time at every stage of the process and that I could have longer if I needed. I admit and confess I was a complete mess from the moment I walked in. But tissue boxes appeared both at reception and in the procedure room. I was asked if I had done this before and I said no but I intended to be there.

The procedure went as expected, and I was no sadder than I expected. I also didn’t change my mind which I gather the vet thought I might do considering how miserable I was. Anyway, the procedure was efficient and painless, all things considered.
I left the room ahead of the vet and my last look back, I watched the vet flip part of the towel she lay on over her body. Her head was turned to the side and her ears were visible……. as I’ve seen her so many times before.

The tenderness from the vet was beautiful. I might write her a card at some point to thank her. Jamima has been left there for short term storage until mum is down next. As I think I mentioned.

Arriving home, I got busy collecting her food bowls and water containers so I wouldn’t be constantly reminded of her absence. I’m yet to move her scratching post, toys and sleeping cube. I have collected all her polar fleece sleeping blankets and the covers that were to discourage her from scratching the couch. The first night was really strange, habits of moving my glass from my couch armrest a foreign action of neglect. But it seems today, Jamima was here. Or winking down at me. She kept me busy today washing bed linen and organising the carpet to be dry cleaned. As she had obviously left some smelly patches conveniently in each room.

That’s my girl.

So many places I expect her to be. I leave doors wedged open and others closed purposely to cater to her having been here. Yet she is not. It might be a good thing I’m to be moving to a new space I’m not reminded of her absence. There is my old couch I’ve moved more times than you could imagine, in the last two years that lives in front of my heater in the lounge. It’s on wheels but I couldn’t part with it while Jamima was still with me as she loved to go under it and hammock herself inside the lining underneath. I found her there only Monday morning, me lying flat on the floor, hand underneath patting her head and ears. Her only time out of her hiding place, enough to get constant pats, her purring music to my ears.
I don’t know when I’ll welcome my next fur-child into. My home and my heart to nestle in beside the hole Jamima has carved out and will remain always but it will be when the time is right.

Until then I probably should avoid pet shops. I’ll keep you updated and you will be the first to know. Thanking you all for your understanding and support.

And many thanks to my friend Boo who chauffeured us to and from the vets and for the hugs and back-rubs. He himself having received horrible news that morning as a friend had chosen to end his own life.

I realise this might be hard to hear and it’s not a point I intended to make in this post but it is relevant because my Boo’s horrible news didn’t stop him from being there for me. It had been a serious challenge to find someone to help me. So now it is late and time to wind down, make a cuppa T and single task and likely shed a few more tears.

Sweet dreams.

Farewell My Lovely

Published March 9, 2017 by helentastic67

Jamima

The Life of Jamima, My Human Cat…

8^th March 2017

Today I made a decision that would break my heart. It’s been a decision that has upset me for years whenever the future probability has been put to me.

Jamima 5

Every year around late spring Jamima would lose her ‘winter chubbs’ so to speak. Living here for the last 4 years where neighbourhood Toms would come prowling around, this would disturb her. She didn’t seem to know what their howls were about. She had been fixed at the appropriate age and had her ear tattoo to prove it.

I always considered she would have been less anxious and more comfortable if she had been allowed to have kittens first. But I wasn’t allowed as Jamima had been adopted from a household with 3 female cats, 2 Toms and 3 litters of kittens all at once.

Jamima would often be a fussy eater, be very anxious to outside noises for example cars, people, animals being walked past out the front yard or birds fluttering on the last. Prompting me to give her the talk that birds were supposed to intrigue her and make her want to get out.

Jamima and Prawns

Jamima has mostly been an indoor cat only. She has had access to the backyard and thankfully in recent years has been large enough that I could rest easy, she was too big to attempt a break-out and my choice of homes for us always stipulated that the backyard be not only cat-friendly but cat-proof.

Jamima indoors

WARNING

The next paragraph is not for the faint-hearted. You have been warned!

When she came home with us, I had read an article in the local paper telling of people who steal cats for ‘fishing’ trips. They slash the back legs and then dangle the cat over the back of the boat. The blood and thrashing drawing fish to the surface and then attracted to the bait. When the fishing trip is over with no use for the cat they are thrown over into the water. The article continued to name suburbs cats were known to go missing from, it included ours. Jamima was therefore deemed an indoor cat only!

Jamima and I have always been very closely bonded. If I was upset she would come to me to comfort me, even if I was in another part of the house and surrounded by others she did not know. She also seemed to bear the brunt of anything she picked up from me. If I was anxious, sad, stressed or if she could tell a move of our home was imminent.

During her life, she lived in 6 homes, including the one she was born in and another move has been pending as I type this. I think she could always tell and it meant she ate less, stressed more and acted a little less at ease.
In recent months, she has picked up a few new quirks. Occasionally, I’ve woken to her sitting on my pillow against my hair. Sometimes right beside my pillow making me feel stalked when opening my eyes.

She would sleep on the bed, sometimes I would wake from a warm peaceful sleep on my back with a warm presence on my lap. I would slowly realise Jamima was curled up there fast asleep and I had no idea how long she had been there.

Jamima

Such an opportunist.

The last few weeks, she has taken to hiding under the bed. But when I went to bed she would jump up for her pats, ear-rubs and chin and neck scratches and the purring would begin. About a month ago, her weight loss became very obvious. Her hollow-sides continued to include her spine and hip bones being pronounced.

Early visits to the vet included disapproving looks when she was weighed indicating she was overweight and I was a bad parent. Recent cat blogs I’ve read would indicate Jamima was definitely not obese but her obvious weight loss did disturb me and I tried different foods and smaller more consistent meals.
Another blogger has stated chasing her cat around the house trying to fatten it up. Kinda feels like I did the same. Meals in the lounge room, food treats in the kitchen.

Her weight loss continued and my concern grew also. Most of you would wonder why I hadn’t taken her to a vet?

The answer is mostly one thing. The lack of money. When I committed to having a cat I was working and had a consistent and stable income. I had always put off having a pet until I knew I could afford those expenses and responsibilities.

The last 10 years my disability has meant my financial freedom has continued to get more and more restrictive. Particularly when life taught me we should live alone for our peace and sanity.

The last 4 years living at unit 1/111 Jamima and Helen Street. (obviously not the street name) life really was about us and life has been nice, until just recently, Jamima has been hiding more, eating less. Not bothering with tasty saucy treats I’ve left in my bowl especially for tempting her. I knew the time was closer and closer.

Today I woke and didn’t see much of my fur-child. And then I left the house at 12.30pm on my Hell on wheels’ scooter and Jamima was on the window ledge in the study in her sleeping position with her snout down in front of her against the timber. I knew when I left the house I had to make the decision I had been dreading.

I rang my mum to tell her my plans. I had to find someone to help me get her to the vet or the vet to do a house call and who I could ask to store her in a cool-room or such until my mums next visit so she could be taken home and be buried with her brother and sisters from another mother in country Victoria.

I didn’t want to bury her on a property that wasn’t mine for ever and I had previously contemplated my sister’s home but she has 2 dogs and my sister and I don’t always see eye to eye. Shall we say?

So today, when I got home from my acupuncture appointment, where I had lay texting with 8 needles in me, organising and finally managing to find someone to help me get Jamima to the vet. Before I scootered home, I booked the appointment for 5.15pm.

Arriving home, Jamima was still in the window. She didn’t look like she had moved. I called her name and I touched her cat-condo that was under the desk inside the study. She meowed and came out. As soon as she got to the carpet I heard a noise and I knew she was making a patch of urine on the carpet. I was tempted to admonish her…..now, is this where we do that? But really, it was my fault I had left her this long maybe? I easily ushered her into her cat-condo and closed the door. She didn’t seem impressed. I got her some water and opened the door again long enough so I could pour it in.
I couldn’t be dissuaded by guilt or her sweet meows.

She drank and then settled in, my friend arrived and came in to give me a hug and carry the condo out to the car.

Anyway, I think by now you all realise how this story ends.

By 5.30 pm on the 8th of March 2017 Jamima went to sleep and off to heaven on big fluffy clouds. Have been thinking of an appropriate cats’ version of the green dream. You can stay tuned for the upcoming post of the same name I wrote over lunch today when I knew how lonely my home would feel by the end of the day.

I keep looking around expecting to see Jamima in her favourite place. My gravy-laced bowl from dinner that will not be cleaned by her tongue. So many peculiar habits we shared that will never be again.

Jamima and bowl

Here are some pictures that will show you Jamima patch, the pirate cat Puddleduck at her best.
Sadly missed but never forgotten. Sad, so sad.

Jamima 2 Jamima 3

Single Task

Published March 6, 2017 by helentastic67

single-task

Single Task

Being one handed means everything takes longer. I’m always multi-tasking, which means while I’m waiting for the omelette to cook, I’m unpacking my dishwasher and repacking it.

single-task-1

I’ll be watching something on my TV from my laptop which is hooked up to the TV with a HDMI cable. (for better viewing) and on my iPad, I’m checking my emails. And texting people so I can keep in touch. This is how I manage to keep on top of all my ‘chores’ because it’s all the stuff that helps me maintain my independence.

sitting-on-lounge

But often at midnight, I need all the “busy” to stop so I can start to wind down. I have a term for it. I like to call it ‘Single task!’ And it’s not as easy as it sounds. I like to put on a TV show that I can put everything else down and not allow things to distract me.

single-task-2

No phone, no emails, no magazines, no word puzzles, nothing! Just a TV show.

Because I can no longer read novels, I don’t have that wind down time in bed where you read a few chapters that helps you get sleepy. Within a few days, you go to bed earlier and earlier so you can read longer, I have TV.

single-task-3

Right now, I’m writing while eating lunch at my favourite Café. Wednesday’s, I try to get out early enough to have lunch at my Café, because if I wait until I’m home, I get lunch around 5pm. From here I go to my chiropractor, then back to my neighbourhood where I get acupuncture. I call it my “Punchy/stabby” day…

chiro acupuncture-3

Busy Brain

Published March 3, 2017 by helentastic67

busy-brain-1

Busy Brain

It’s not something I’ve been officially diagnosed with and I’m sure other Mental Health related conditions might experience these symptoms, but in my case my mind is always (for want of a better word) “ON”.

Planning, problem solving, writing, scheduling, busy, busy, busy! Bills to pay, rent due, incoming, outgoing. People I want to see, people I have to see, brain training, appointments that keep me mobile. And I’m very lucky I can do all these things, hear me?

BECAUSE THEY KEEP ME INDEPENDENT!

independent-living

But at the end of the day, I sit on the couch, amongst my ‘In Tray’ and I attempt to catch up on my admin.

Attending to the mail, scheduling when bills are due, when they need to be paid, brain training (OK-pirating) and brain training (word finders, puzzles, list making) and often it’s around 9 pm, I have dinner.

busy-brain-3

And then I settle into email-mode! I know, ridiculous. And then I have to start trying to turn off the busy brain! And that’s why I like to finish the night with a TV show where I don’t touch a remote or my iPad or my phone or anything.

I call it ‘Single-Tasking’.

Impossible being One-Handed…

one-handed