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New Hellonwheels

Published September 1, 2025 by helentastic67

New Hellonwheels

Have I mentioned I’m getting a new Hellonwheels this year? I know I haven’t. I’ve been too busy sorting the permanent housing or garaging and powering location for it in a communal garage. 

To be fair, I had asked my support coordinator before I moved back in November 2024 if she could help sort these things before I moved so I would not be without the use of my scooter. The best time of year to be out and about on my scooter is summer. I literally had to pester my support coordinator to assist me with this task. In the end she did neither of those things. Support or coordinate. 

I received a text with a company name who helped with this issue and the comment that they were expensive. I have never been angrier. Or so I thought.

At my previous address and all previous addresses over the last 15 years, I had been storing my scooter in a shed that had been funded for me by my first OT and over time it was a method of great importance and security to maintaining some independence for allowing me to get to local appointments without the assistance of carers or doing some hunter/gathering solo, to get ahead of when I did have carers for limited times. 

When I moved, I concentrated on the things inside my new home. I don’t know if you have ever moved one-handed, but I’m limited by weight and size. For something without ADHD when I move homes I find I am always moving around, moving things from one location to another until everything settles to where I can best store, access or use it one-handed. Somethings only I can put away as I need to be able to get it out again if nobody else is around. Somethings that worked in my previous home may not work here. 

I lagged in storing my belongings in my storage cage because I had to wait for my handyman to bring bolt cutters. I wanted to have him cover the inside with black plastic. to keep prying eyes from my belongings, my gardening supplies and my boxes of bits. Don’t need to explain that I hope. I was not allowed to erect my shed in my car space because its height got in the way of the sprinkler system and storing my scooter there was redundant as there was no power supply I could access and all the other fucking things.

I had been so busy sorting inside my home, I had implemented the theory of Schrodingers Cat to the belongings in my car space. 

My neighbour who has the car-space beside me informed me my belongings had been rummaged through. When I checked I found a transformer for my scooter had been stolen. What the actual F. Do I need to finish this sentence? 

At least this meant I poked my handyman to sort out the things by stopping ‘Mr get these things away’ And then…

Who is old enough to remember a great joke from the 90’s about Lawyers 

Published August 25, 2025 by helentastic67

Who is old enough to remember a great joke from the 90’s about Lawyers 

Joke goes like this “What do you call 100 lawyers at the bottom of the ocean?” 

Answer: A bloody good start.

I offer you the modern version. “What do you call 100 real estate agents at the bottom of the ocean?”

Think you have this from here?

What kind of scumbag sells a forever home to someone who has disabilities advising them falsely on how easy they can access things like I don’t know, a car space, power to a mobility scooter and not tell them of impending costs and increase in fees? 

Did I mention we are up for a new lift in 2026? Annoyingly, the lift has been a major annoyance this year, often being out of action for days, sometimes only hours. One particular Friday, I left to go shopping and my phone blew up as the building group chat had so many messages about the lift being out. I had to right leg it up the stairs upon returning from shopping with a carer on her first day with me.

A few strangers, neighbours in the building had come out to help carry my shopping upstairs and for that I was very grateful, but alas, being in a building with only one lift was something that was an afterthought, in the end once I found the right location, number of bedrooms and within a budget, I could cope with.

Thanks dad! Love you, Dad. Don’t hate me because my father loved me.

Dear Channel 10

Published August 18, 2025 by helentastic67

Dear Channel 10 

You fucked up! Not here to make friends just influence people.

A few months ago, people started reporting my favourite news program to be shit-canned. I thought there was time, not that I imagined I could influence some kind of reprieve. But only as a week later a deadline was announced and it was a foregone conclusion. 

My favourite news program would include actual news, comedians and even musicians. So much wrapped up into an hour six days a week. I found if I was ill informed on a particular topic or just oblivious or naive it was explained in bite sized pieces so I could understand. I understood why there was a stampede at the Wall of Mecca back in 1015.

I know, what? There was a stampede where people were crushed and it wasn’t at some music concert or festival. But interesting and questionable how these happen in today’s modern times? 

The most informed and completely unlike me individual host being Waleed Ali, someone I quote daily. He was often given the tough job to report like why there is another mass shooting in America. (he will start with how much he hates it) Because mass shootings generally don’t occur in Australia, we just can’t get our heads around why and how this can happen again and again and over again. Just how the fuck it keeps happening?

Have I mentioned we don’t have guns in Australia? Well, not like other countries at least.  We have had some machete and knife incidents we are not well pleased with. You can search for Waleed Ali’s social media presence, but I don’t believe he has one. I didn’t check because it is well mentioned on the show he has zero interest in an online persona. 

I believe he is part of a podcast which is something I don’t do. But in short, He is from Melbourne, Australia with Egyptian heritage. He was raised on Vegemite and the locally produced music program “Countdown” as I was. 

He is actually younger than I am, by six years. I didn’t stalk; I just asked Google. Oh, he’s Muslim, which I am not. But in short, he’s a TV personality, Lawyer and sometime lecturer. I’ve met students he has taught.  He’s married and has children. He’s a disability advocate and most importantly is credited by me daily for the line – “Bandaid on a bullet wound!” Because it’s often the best way to describe life with disabilities and how others try to shorthand a fix for a problem I must then revisit over and over again. 

Anyway, way, back to how royally Channel 10 fucked up! Should I have premised this post with a swear warning? Or set myself a swear limit? As if!

I think Channel 10 executives were so trying to get the Millennial audience they lost the Gen X and older audience. 

I mean, the Millennials as far as I can tell won’t take a job unless they get paid $100 grand a year and they holiday like retiree’s and spend their cash on smashed avo. But complain they can’t afford a mortgage or cover their HECS debt. They are not prioritising being sat home to watch the news at night they are out for dinner at expensive restaurants. 

Had not intended to throw all millennials under the bus however, I spent my youth working and studying in the only course that exists where I wouldn’t get a job because I was a woman, a straight woman, without a car or a driver’s license. Ah, I am studying Visual merchandising. Because I didn’t get into what I wanted to study but I needed life to start in Melbourne, so I jumped. Had to get the hell outta Dodge.

FYI, Window dressing jobs at the big department stores were only employing older gay men! or when management was away, they might employ a female. I couldn’t do freelance without an ability to get around. (no car or driver’s license) And my photos didn’t turn out so no folio to find work. 

I was also in my twenties in the 90’s when there was a recession. You grabbed any work you could find and you had to hustle. Hence, my commitment to Hospo and keeping myself busy. 

Side Bar. I only learnt a few years ago when I was working in the club scene in my twenties I was working in Hospo. Which is short for Hospitality. I will circle back to this another day indeed.

Also, from what I can tell the Millennial generation is getting all their news from social media the algorithm’s giving them all the things they are interested and only that. It must be nice to have a belief system not based on history and legacy. 

But going back to the stupidity of Channel 10 Exec’s? Yes, they bragged there would be a super awesome replacement. Paraphrasing somewhat. My bad, it wasn’t. I’ve watched it twice. It was dry. Bland and very boring. If I wanted that I could watch other channels. So, this now is to be replaced with a streamlined version of the 16+ year long program called the Project. When that will happen is anybody’s guess? 

Spitting Chips

Published August 11, 2025 by helentastic67

Spitting Chips 

Now, this post should come with a warning, there will be swearing or alluding to words I normally will not so much as utter, but I feel you will allow considering the circumstances.

There was one particular Monday, I went down to fang it to a 12.30pm appointment. I had another appointment at the same practice, so Hellonwheels comes in handy. Even allowing me to scoop up take-away on my way home and maybe some items from a supermarket. Fresh milk anyone? 

I went into the garage and had two sets of keys in my hand as well as my walking stick and the flag for my scooter. I keep the flag inside as it’s not my first flag. If it’s a selfish person or a low hanging branch they seem to walk. 

I walked in the direction of my scooter and looked up, my step slowed when I realised it was not where I expected it to be. The transformer cords dangling loose out of the EV cabinet. Eyes wild, I couldn’t decide if I leave the flag where I expected to find my scooter.

But time was short, I only had 20 minutes until my first appointment, I couldn’t afford to reschedule. I had to get to both that day.

Mother trucker!

What kind of LOW LIFE Scumbag steals a Mobility Scooter? I’m still months later yet to cry. What’s the point? Too angry!  One-handed without pockets I was juggling two sets of keys, my walking stick and the flag. Don’t even know why I was still holding on to that.

All while calling my lovely Young John. No time to talk. Was he free? Could he help me get to my appointment? Use the key to get from the carpark into the foyer and then the lift. 

Next call to who Young John would refer to as my Indian boyfriend. Basically, any other taxi driver I call to be my transport. 

I had to problem solve getting to my appointments. Unlock my front door after going up in the lift. Put flag and scooter keys inside. Back downstairs and out to the street. Get in taxi. Call Owner Corp regarding CCTV Footage. That process alone should have been easier. Made it to my appointment only fifteen minutes late. So grumpy, I did not manage to sleep at my physio appointment. So angry I was.

Kind Words

Published July 28, 2025 by helentastic67

Kind Words

My Radiologist used to sometimes say to me back in the day “One of us has a brain injury and sometimes it’s not you!” Kinder words have never been said.

And never more accurate.

It’s Still a Win Right?

Published July 21, 2025 by helentastic67

It’s Still a Win – Right

You know those days, this is literally how my Monday went. I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.

Went to bed early, 12.30am, that’s early for me, trust me. Still awake until 5am, but I had an early start plus a full morning planned. First mission, fucking disaster.

Carer arrives at 8am, even my cat is listed off and confused. She knows when I should write off the day and go back to bed, but I had a specialist appointment that is every three months. On a Monday, at 11.30am, because it’s the last appointment for this clinic on the day.

This is often a Team Helen mission. Mondays I have a carer called Helen; she’s a Heavy Hitter! (I’ll circle back to that later!) We taxi to save parking dramas or me going in without her. Her agency also hits me hard for kilometres in my carer’s car. (ie. they hit me for it instead of my funding.) and the carer always is worse off. I digress, taxi to appointment, I inhaled my entirety of pills before I left and pack something to eat on the way. Learnt from the driver that burnt toast smell I always catch on the way is a coffee roaster. No, I’m not having a stroke. (Apparently, that smells like burning car tyres?)


Arrive safely and early. Hear a Code Grey while we wait this triggers a Google search of the different codes that are used in a hospital. My carer is on my left and that is my worst blind spot. I regal her it’s a story of a visit to hospital over ten years ago when a code was called for me when I’d tried to get a sleeping pill at 1am when they kept putting me off. “Just close your eyes and you will go to sleep!” I was told, like I’m a four-year-old child not a forty-year-old woman who never slept at the correct time. Anyway, started to feel a little seedy while we waited. Helen asking if I was OK, did I want a drink?
You know when you just want to power down and not be present? Started to feel sick. Suggested Helen should move to my right side. We had discussed it, but we went with it anyway. So, I threw up. (Just saliva! Not my breakfast even but worth noting!) and peed my pants. Honestly! This has never happened before in public.

I used the bathroom and when I returned Helen mentioned the Doctor had asked if I was still OK for my appointment? Like, I didn’t come all this way to throw up in the waiting room and not get Botox in my leg? It’s also usually these times my carer comments on how pale I look and after throwing up how much “better” I look. I am generally sun-averse anyway, but “pale” is normally fine by me.

My recent visits for Laser hair removal start with the question “Have you had any sun?” And my witty response. “Not if I can help it?” Anyway, asked for something to put on my seat on the way home. This was granted and off we departed for home. She asked me if I was OK, and I reminded her if I wasn’t I’d come to the right place. It was a hospital after all. Mission to get home, half showered and into clean clothes and back to bed my only goal for the rest of the day.

My lovely carer departs and I manage to sleep for two hours. Wake in time for an appointment with someone that thinks my appointment is on Thursday. Don’t know why this keeps happening, but it’s about the only thing I can read in my diary. Lazy standard rest of the day. Prepare the next week of pills, while standing in the kitchen. Feed Mika, eat standing up to better utilise time. Hope the Botox doesn’t kick in while I’m moving around my home. My leg will give out mid-step. Botox in my leg doesn’t make it look younger, just work better.

Botox puts over worked muscles to sleep for a few months, so other lazy muscles have a chance to build and take an even balance when the Botox wears off. This is to manage my drop foot and hyper extending knee so, I don’t need a knee replacement one day and I move and walk better. Who knew right? So, that was my Monday. Am I done yet?

How Good are Old People

Published July 13, 2025 by helentastic67

How Good Are Old People

So, this is my fifth post in a sitting and I will finish this on a positive.

A few weeks ago, I was at the supermarket with a carer I don’t often have. I’ve had her before but it takes time to build a relationship with a carer so they can know my preferred products and how they manage my busy brain when I just wanna do Social Helen. Also how to navigate my low eyesight and the trolley and all the things.


We were at the checkout and she had unpacked the trolley and then moved around behind me to the outside of the checkout. In front of her was an elderly man and I mean Elderly. I caught sight of him in my good peripheral vision on my right. He had a trolley and was without speaking out loud communicating to someone on my left in my blind spot that they were there and they had a trolley. I turned to my left and saw the equally elderly lady who obviously matched the man on the outside on the checkout. I said to her “You are in my blind spot and I don’t have a husband, but I understood everything he was trying to communicate to you.”

I swear to God! This is what I love about the elderly. She responded with “Be careful what you wish for!” I asked how long they had been married, I think she said, “Sixty years” “You get less for murder!” I told her.


It’s a standard Baby Boomer reply to such circumstances which always sounds wrong but is very amusing.



Asking for a Friend

Published July 7, 2025 by helentastic67

Asking for a Friend

I wonder what people would recommend for someone with ADHD (hope it’s OK to refer to it as such? We all know it’s one of the many in the spectrum now just referred to as ASD?)

What would people recommend for the big projects that consume all your time, the playing with your Meds, drinking more or less coffee to get through the day and the tasks, then the smoking pot to come down at the end of the day?

Asking for a friend.

Think we have all been around people on the spectrum and seen how some cope or don’t cope. We have been on the cold face of receiving or cleaning up after them.

ASD in disability circles I’m finding has been the latest disability to be in the spotlight and the newbies or the young people now more women as its better understood the symptoms in women are different. 

I don’t have a lived experience of ASD, just so you know, but I see people who do it well, I’ve seen the new young ones being all “You don’t know what! Bitch please!” I was diagnosed at 34 with my AVM and received all kinds of bullshit ever since.

It’s the low expectation of (Quote by Graeme Innes) “So people with disabilities keep having to deal with the soft bigotry of low expectations.” Now as well as swimming against the tide of negative attitudes.

Someone related to me suggested I might have ADHD too, I know I’ve seen comedians who joke about being recently diagnosed, by a friend and that its some kind of pyramid scheme.

So, too said family member. “Bitch please!”……No, I said “I’m a High Functioning ABI. Have I not suffered enough?”

Expectations From Others

Published June 30, 2025 by helentastic67

Expectations From Others

Sometimes, there are little things about having a disability that you would never imagine or believe.

People will always imagine everyone treats me as a human being that deserves respect, love and support and that might feel fair and truthful for some of the time.  However, on occasion someone you least expect will throw their emotional baggage at you they refuse to deal with themselves, I gather.

When I’m depressed, I hibernate to minimise fallout on others. I’ve found biting and hissing at others just makes them less likely to sign up for more.

It’s not for everyone. It’s not even good for a long-term solution for anyone with mental health issues. But I like to consider I’m taking responsibility for my issues and not projecting my shit on others. But other times, when someone wants to pick a fight with me, they will throw it in my face that I’m uneducated. 

I’m sorry! Did you hear me?

About ten-years-ago I had an OT ask me “How far I made it in school?” I was offended. I finished secondary school. Then completed three years of Tertiary, Arts, sure, however, I’ve since completed a leadership course of which this blog was my project. I also did part of a Certificate IV in assessment and training but don’t even start me on that.

I never had to do a four-thousand-word essay until my first year of tertiary. My art history lecturer thought my presentation on Pop Art and the artists Andy Warhol and Roy Lichtenstein was brilliant. I know it may sound like I’m justifying but! 

One thing I would never do is kick anybody when I’m struggling so I feel better about myself. So, you may be able to tell I’m having a hard time.

Sometimes, being one-handed, having half one’s eyesight, not being able to see. Work catches up on me. And as per I’ve some blogging to catch up on. I really don’t like blogging as a reactionary measure because I like to let the dust settle but maybe I need to rant.

Then I foresee many posts to context the ranting. Alas, it is 12.30am, and while this is early, I feel I should call it a day. Unpacking this shit always feels like unpacking dirty laundry.