Blog Writing

Published September 27, 2019 by helentastic67

Blog Writing

As per usual, I’ve neglected my blog writing for a little while, as I’ve been busy with all the mundane weekly appointments and carer shifts, I forget to A) Socialize and B) Catch up on my blog writing.

By then, I’m still not caught up on the ‘old’ stuff I want to write about and then I’ve scraped the surface on those things, leaving more unsaid than said.

The Social life stuff leads to needing to write.

This is not the retirement I had in mind. I had to flip over my notebook and start from the back. I’m going to struggle to go back to the train of thought I’ve started at the front, but …..Onwards.

Charge!

Clayton’s Holiday

Published September 23, 2019 by helentastic67

Clayton’s Holidays

There was a drink back in the 80’s and I has become part of Aussie Pop Culture references that crosses all things. The ad was for a drink (beverage) called Claytons.

It refers to it being the drink when you don’t feel like having a drink. A drink without being alcoholic. So, this is a post about a Clayton’s holiday. Get it?

About five years ago, I was with an agency that arranged holidays (group holidays) for their clients. I was able to and included on two holidays, which was really nice as I think it’s been about ten years since I actually had a holiday and even then, that was to Tasmania for two-three nights.

So, the group holidays work out to be only a half day drive from Melbourne and only away over night or two. The other client’s range in age from five (one client’s daughter) to sixty-five (maybe). There were two mini buses with wheelchair lifts on the back (two wheelchairs in the back of each) and usually a car.

I usually bags the front seat of the mini bus (I will do a polishing motion on my backside and one of the carers will effortlessly lift me and deposit me in my seat). Yeah, I do that sexual harassment for the ladies. But I won’t allow a male carer to man-handle the goods. (I’m not light these days, but one lady just effortlessly lifted me making me feel so light.)

Being on a little get away with a bunch of strangers and three or four carers means you have a polite but temporary family type experience.

I always pitch in to help prep a salad or something in the evening as we usually stay somewhere we have a shared meal where ever we stay on the first night, as most meals are eaten out.

The first holiday I went to we stopped on the way back to Melbourne at an outer Melbourne suburb for a lunch and a little adventure.

A friend lived there, so I suggested they join me, so I could catch up with them. Said friend had recently been diagnosed with something quite nasty. They are still in that honeymoon stage of diagnosis where they have had the sugar-coated version of their diagnosis. Goes something like this “OH, you only have 3 lesions…”

Note, privacy being maintained here, yeah. This medical condition is such that when people hear I have a brain injury, I tell them, “Hey! It’s okay, this is my bottom line right now. At least I don’t have XYZ.” Because XYZ is degenerative. It gets worse. It gets shitty. I just gets’ worse.

So, this friend joined my little group of holiday buddies and I briefly introduced them to the group. I’m going to say, I’m terrible with names and I’ve been around this group of people with disabilities now a few years, so in a little desensitized re: medical conditions.

My introduction went like this;

“Brain Injury, MS, Stroke, Stroke, Oxygen deprived at birth (Brain Injury) etc, etc”. And I finished with referring to one particular person in a wheelchair (of which there were five) but the last person I pointed to had the XYZ my non-holiday friend has. “That will be you one day” and they paled considerably.

To be continued

Sleep 24/7

Published September 20, 2019 by helentastic67

Sleep 24/7

Now, I know, I know, I’ve likely written other posts about this natural remedy to fix all “sleep”.

We are told there are many things in life that makes us require sleep at different times.

Babies need more sleep.

Grumpy kids need more sleep

I distinctly recall a day when my mum sent me off to bed for an afternoon kip.

TV Girl

Published September 16, 2019 by helentastic67

TV Girl

As I have mentioned previously, I’m very much a TV girl. Sometimes I think my generation was raised by the TV. Now that I can’t read, TV is how I get more of my entertainment and I switch off my busy brain and I fill my down time. So, I have a lot of capacity for TV shows.

I have different shows for different moods, times of day or night or whatever. If you are a TV person like me, you will know what I mean when someone with less time on their hands, some years ago asked me if he should watch ‘Game of Thrones’ or ‘Walking Dead’. Can you feel my death stare?

Game of Thrones

Walking Dead

Because the correct answer is “BOTH” you watch BOTH and you watch ‘Talking dead’ after ‘The Walking Dead’ with Chris Hardwick, so you can get lots of other bits behind the scenes of Walking Dead and if you want to binge it, watching Talking Dead slows it down.

While those shows only last part of the year (Game of Thrones finished this year 2019) you fill the rest of the year with other things.

People often tell me what they are watching, while I share with them what I am watching. There are times, because I watch so much I’m always behind, people share what they are watching, if it sounds really good, I collect it, I keep a file on my laptop ready to watch. A shortlist on a post it notes, so I prioritise things to watch and I generally don’t start anything until I have it all.

Years ago, I watched a season of Sons of Anarchy (SOA) an episode every week and one episode had me so emotionally raw, I had a tradie arrive just after I finished an episode, where I was so emotionally brittle, I think the guy thought I’d burst into tears. No really.

My Way or The Highway

Published September 13, 2019 by helentastic67

My Way or the Highway

Have you heard the line; If you want something done right, do it yourself? Now, obviously the definition of ‘right versus wrong’ is a debate all in itself and for everything in my home and surroundings, I am the master of my domain and my way is the right (correct) way.

I don’t like to think I am a domineering person or a bully, however in my home, where I should be able to control things, I like things my way. Because even in really minute ways if something is in the wrong place, I can’t see it or I can’t get to something I need and if you can’t do it yourself, you out source it.

I currently have six carers over a week (I actually had to write down their names to count them) and I thought it was more. To be fair, I have a few I get more than once over the week and to make life work, I will pick and choose somethings one over might be better at or appreciate helping me do it overtime. All of my carers are pushed for time. So, somethings might not get high priority so they get neglected. Other times one of my lovely assistants (it’s what I call them) might get sick of seeing some mess or other and she will make it her project for the day.

If a carer doesn’t do something, I’ve asked of them, how I would prefer it to be done, they might have been telling me not to ask again, so I don’t.

Life One Handed – Part 2

Published September 9, 2019 by helentastic67

Life One Handed Part 2

One of the best bits of advice I can offer for surviving one handed is this. It’s very simple and gets you way ahead of causing yourself bigger problems later and that bit of advice is this:

ALWAYS KEEP PART OF YOUR HAND FREE OR CLEAN FOR EMERGENCIES.

There are times I’m in the kitchen and I lose my balance a little and I am always put part of my hand, say knuckles, edge (you know that part from your wrist down to your little finger) or even the back of your hand on the wall, so I can untangle my feet.

You can put your hand on the bench (easier to clean) or if you need to open the door or press a button on your phone to answer it.

Refer to above.

For everything else, I recommend a food handling glove.

Life One Handed – Part 1

Published September 6, 2019 by helentastic67

Life One Handed Part 1

There are several things I have found to be a great asset to my home, since becoming one-handed. This item can be purchased from any decent stationary shop and I love stationary.

I think I got hooked on stationary when I discovered my inner-admin assistant. But, one of the best things in my home now are/or is the humble bulldog clip.

What? I know, this thing. How is this true? You think about it, how many uses can they have?

I have them on bags from frozen veggies in my freezer, on the bag of sugar in the cupboard. You wouldn’t use them on some things because it just doesn’t cut it for freshness on somethings. But, one of the best uses is for holding something still or in place while you write on it.

I just clipped my new backboard to this notebook, so I could sign it.

Yeah, exactly.

European Stare

Published September 2, 2019 by helentastic67

European Stare

There is likely a version of this in every country and culture, as is my style I prefer to describe a situation or scenario, so you can best imagine to which that I refer.

I had scheduled a time to call a friend, we are both busy. I often do this as it’s how I make sure things happen and my life works.

While I’m busy with my appointments, my ‘not-working’ and the voluntary stuff and the friend with her family and being a mum.

So, I rang her and after the bold statement that she felt ‘people didn’t call her because they think she’s OK, because she has a husband’.

Um, can you feel my eye rolls?

You all know I don’t have a husband?

The painful conversation continued and she was telling me about a toy they had purchased for their second child, said child was clearly in the background and correcting mum for calling said toy by its wrong name.

Can you feel my disinterest in said conversation?

This story come from about five years ago and I can’t believe how vividly I recall it. There seemed to be more conversation between mother and daughter than mother and Helen, so I cut the call short because it was giving me a migraine.

,

The following day I had a conversation with a friend in actual person. Said person comes from a Greek background and is as ‘Aussie’ as I am. She threw me a look of horror and surprise. I couldn’t help it, I smiled because we both know what she was going to say.

She said “Oh no! My daughter come up to me when I’m on the phone and they know not to bother me.” She went on to say the closer her children insisted on her attention the sterner the “look” would get.

My mum, who is not European, is from good Aussie/English/Irish stock, yet not first fleet.

Did not do European stare.

As a youngster, my mum spent a lot of time on the phone. No really, so long, if there is a world record for mum’s spending time on the phone it would have my mum’s name on it.

She did something different after stomping our feet and grumbling, doing the little grumpy dance (You know the one, lie you need to go to the bathroom and are waiting for permission) Didn’t need to, just painting a picture. I was young.

Mum can say to whomever she was speaking to “Can you just hang on a second?” as she put her hand over the mouth piece and said to you. “Can you go peel the potatoes” or maybe “Pick some carrots” or you know “feed the cat.” You knew, it was always something, seemed like busy work to me.

So, you either learned to leave her be and find something close to distract yourself, but you know she could talk. Now I use the European stare on her. It’s good for every time you need to communicate simple things and easy to add tone.

Preston Markets

Published August 26, 2019 by helentastic67

Preston Markets

This is about my fifth blog post I’ve written in a sitting, over ninety minutes, so it might give you an idea of how the old filing cabinet that is my brain works and I haven’t had a day to sit and write for maybe a month, so I’m way behind.

But I just wanted to circle back briefly to my adventures to the Preston Markets on the Saturday mornings with the then boyfriend.

While I was working in the area, I would prefer to go after work on a Thursday or Friday night to get “just a few things” and carry them home on the train. Early evenings were really quiet and it was a nice way to finish the day after work.

However, as you might recall, going on a Saturday, I had a strict time schedule that I wanted/needed to go because and this is the main reason. I think the boyfriend did not like going and that is because he hated the ‘wogs’.

What? Shock horror! That sounds racist. However, he was not from Australia, he was from the States and he didn’t understand “wogs”.

Preston and other areas around Melbourne have a long history of wogs (Italian/Greeks etc) and while the ex was tall, he didn’t cope with the masses of Nona’s pushing their way in and around him and their shopping carts into him.

He would often let out a noise of displeasure in a fruit and veg stall and I would look over at him. A Nona had pushed her trolley into him as if he wasn’t there. He was just in their way and they didn’t much care.

He obviously just needed to give them the European stare. Yes!

Henry – Part 2

Published August 23, 2019 by helentastic67

Henry – Part 2

About twenty years ago, I lived in a house in Windsor or with my older sister in a street called Henry Street, hence the name. The landlady had left a plant in the bathroom which we were really surprised about.

We didn’t presume to imagine it was a gift so we watered it, kept it alive and when we vacated, left it in the place for whoever lived there next.

As previously mentioned, the Maiden Hair fern was the plant of choice in the 70’s and 80’s and if you could keep it alive (which I couldn’t) in the 90’s.

These days, the plant of choice in many homes and work places is the Peace Lilly. While living in Henry Street, our bathroom plant did so well, we split it and took half with us. Well, I did anyway. To this day, I have Henry with me. Well, I’ve got five pots of Peace Lilies.

I can even tell you which plant for a time lived in the backyard waiting for it to resurrect itself. The boyfriend of the time, kicked at the pot stating “that’s dead, we aren’t keeping that” I’m a wait and see type of gardener, he didn’t hang around long enough to see it return, but that’s his loss.

I often get told my plants are doing so well because they see the flowers.

I then have to tell them (and again not punchline) “I hate to tell you, but that is the plant saying Fuck, I’m dying. I better throw out some kids, so maybe they will survive.”

Again, they are also coming inside this winter. They definitely suffered outside last winter and managed to come back, but this winter I’m not putting them through it.