The Feels

Published December 12, 2022 by helentastic67

The Feels

I’ve had a terrible case of the feels today and the sad it has not helped at all that my carer arrived today in a cloud of perfume. I asked if she had read my profile that clearly stated “NO PERFUME!” She answered, “Perfume was her thing!” As if this exempted her somehow, like what the fuck people what is your thing, can you get a new thing that doesn’t give me a migraine.

My “thing” is to offer empty threats. I’m not violent but I do like a good empty threat because people will never know if I’m serious or not. My empty threat of choice is if you don’t stop XYZ whatever the “thing” is that they’re doing that is not to my liking I will throat punch you. I guess it’s a kind of saying I want you to stop breathing I want you to hurt so badly that you might die because you cannot breathe. And I definitely mean to hurt you as much as your actions are hurting me.

So, I started the day with a migraine and I went to the final AGM the final meeting for the group I’ve been part of the ten years where every single month I would attend I would come home with a migraine don’t know why I would do this to myself, but it was a group of people that apparently were my tribe because we all have brain injuries. Despite all having very different brain injuries.

The people I’d met and loved there, have come and gone, moved onto new adventures and the things I’d achieved in the time I’d been there had more recently been demolished by the new members that purely by accident fell into powerful positions. For the whole ten years I’d been attending every month I’d been wondering when I would be happy to walk away.

Certainly, my presence, being able to remind them of the hard work of previous members and advocates was not being listened to.

At the AGM I was asked to stand so people I did not recognise could see someone that had been there for twenty plus years. I was close to tears as despite planning my exit for as long as I’d been there and mostly the recent passing of my father. Sob! Something else was coming to an end.

I was asked if I wanted to say something. I did, but it would not have been what they wanted to hear, or the new potential members would have wanted to hear. I kept my mouth shut.

Over lunch, the let’s call them the “Leader” (For want of a better term), came up to me and told me I could come back at any time.

Let me be clear, WHAT THE FUCK MORON! I’M FREE! I’M NOT COMING BACK!

Went home that day, took some pain meds. The hard ones! And was in bed by around 3.30pm. Was still hung over from that migraine days later. It was a bad one.

But weirdly they are not my tribe because they do not respect me, they do not support me and they may actually miss me when I’m not there, which is not my fault or my problem once a month. Now I’m going to have a working lunch with my carer and she can do some of my admin and I can either write my blog or something. Just anything else that doesn’t give me a migraine.

Brilliant Idea

Published December 4, 2022 by helentastic67

Brilliant Idea

Last night I was talking to a friend who works in a hospital. She is dealing with the continued spread of the Plague as I prefer to call it.

I’m still Plague 0/Hell doesn’t know how to accurately do sporting scores, let’s just say I’ve not had the Plague and I’m not complaining.

And I don’t think it’s just because of the four Pfizer, I’m also not wearing a mask unless I absolutely must and the current mandates indicate you no longer need to isolate if you have the Plague, since WHEN. I tell you.

If someone, anyone is sick with something infectious or contagious, please stay home. So, I digress, my friend said people go visiting friends in hospital and don’t wear a mask, or don’t wear it properly. So, more people are getting the Plague, are in hospital already.

So, I had a suggestion, a condition of entry should be
NO MASK! NO PANTS!

Thoughts, anyone?
Exactly!!!!!!!

I Had an Oopsy

Published November 28, 2022 by helentastic67

I Had An Oopsy

It’s 10pm Friday night. I’ve yet to check my email, but I’m also yet to eat dinner. Where did the day go? So much achieved. Even voted early. Without queuing, the few benefits to having a disability. Don’t gotta queue.

But even more important, on Monday I had a fall. AGAIN! This time when I was out in the city, without a carer escorting me. I had been attending some training at the brain injury group I had only weeks ago stepped down from. The training was Mental Health First Aid. If you need talking off a ledge, “Don’t call us!” Had a bit of an emotional day. Then upon leaving later in the afternoon I continued a beaten path heading north along DeGraves Street, a laneway known for its cafes and a path I’ve trodden since the 90’s at least once a week, in the last 15 years once a month. Where the laneway goes up into an arcade to Collins Street there are four steps with handrails, of which I take the middle one and take the steps right/left/right/left.

Although this time something went wrong. The second step I have to only guess, my left leg gave out on me and I fell down. On my right there were three punk kids. Well, I would guess early twenties and more importantly, old enough to know and do better. But they didn’t! When I fell, I landed on my knees, my right hand on the heel of my hand, although unscathed and I landed on my tummy. Weirdly, never going to complain again about getting the version of menopause of getting fat around the middle not skinny.

My issue with muscle memory being a myth is for another day, also that the late spring weather in Melbourne has seen me wearing half summer on my bottom half and at times full winter on my top half, I was in my red fury Raver jacket which gave me padding and helped protect me.

But alas, landing unexpectedly as I did my tummy felt sick, my knees both hurt and having the feeling someone was breathing down my neck and I needed to get out of the way of anyone coming up behind me I dragged myself off to the side. I later realise how shit this line of thinking was that I believed nobody would come to my aide and that I might instead be left to fend to myself. Like a five-year-old, I felt sick, in shock and close to tears I rolled over onto my bum and pulled my messenger bag around to my right side. I wear it on my left shoulder, so it sits on my right hip. Bit of a legend it had not fallen off.

I did need a moment and fought the desire to cry. In front of me, rushing up to me were three tiny, seriously petite ladies. They gathered around and spoke fluent Chinese to each other to help me get up. I pulled myself up using my right hand, but my whole body was like a stiff board, I couldn’t even bend my knees to get my feet under me. One of the ladies moved around behind me and lifted me to help, another tried to hand me my stick.

What happened to the three punk kids? Big fat nothing! If I see them there again I’ll be giving them a piece of my mind. I later messaged a friend and he told me not to worry about those douchebags and that is now how I think of them.

Even once standing I wanted to take a moment to get myself back together, but I also had the mindset, I had to keep walking to get to my goal. I was aiming for the tram on Bourke Street Mall destined north. The whole way I noticed sad looks from people in suits making me think I must have looked like I was about to cry and I thought I’d managed to shake it off. Got to the tram, got a seat my knees hurting. Thirty minutes on the tram and I was home. Once upstairs in my apartment, I pulled up my right pants leg and had skinned it slightly. Days later I was nursing a nasty bruise. Two days later my chiropractor was not happy with what I had managed to do to myself.

Later that day I had X-Ray of my right hand to rule out the Trigger Thumb my GP had arranged and my left wrist to see if I’d damaged my wrist.

My Friday carer checked the x-ray as I’d been messaged the link. Had I logged in the password might have been “Thisfuckingthing!” She diagnosed me as having 5 fingers! Obviously, 4 fingers and a thumb, I pointed out the slight gap between my first knuckle of my thumb and my hand. The pain in my thumb rhymes with Mothertrucker! If you think about all the things, you might auto-pilot using your thumb. You find using your thumb for everything, including the remote control. It’s just not right! To be continued.

I’m writing this early Monday morning; I know my carer will ask me if I’ve a quieter week this week. It’s a negative and my laptop could be in its final death throes so my future “Go Fund Me” is now Priority No 1, along with everything else only I can do. Keep an eye out for that.

On a Happier Note

Published November 21, 2022 by helentastic67

On a Happier Note

Had such miserable posts of late, but here’s a little something amusing that comes from family spending time together even for the shittiest reasons.

Five ladies taking up residents in my father’s home. We all do our coffee a different way. My sister’s partner on the percolator to make sure everyone had their “Medicine” (as I call it) when they needed it. One morning, well around 10am, I walked past my older sister throwing her a simple question that required little thought to answer. She stood holding her coffee cup asking if I had dared to ask her a question before her morning coffee. My younger sister looked empathetic towards her plight, even though she only has one coffee every day. I told her fair enough and she could get back to me after her coffee.

I later explained to the marker of coffee, “I like to start the day with my natural enthusiasm for life! But I need to have medicine towards the end of the afternoon to get through the rest of the day!”

I think it’s a bit ironic considering I spend every morning looking stoned and I’ve never even smoked a cigarette. Definitely not getting into the Mary Jane.

The bringer of coffee and I got a coffee the day after my father’s funeral at a fantastic cafe/coffee roaster in my hometown and while there we bought a supply of roasted beans. The worker in the café were really good at the customer service, that such roles require, offering us all the different kinds of beans available. I really wanted to suggest, “give us the one for, I’ve had too much Sake last night Asking for a friend.” It wasn’t me driving the porcelain bus at 7am the day after, but enough said.

Hope you get the Up’s and Downs in life right now and can hang in there for me to return to normal programming. Must I remind followers. Please hit Like.

Noelle will be impressed she can post on the Monday, so things are getting back on track, I aim to please.

As Promised

Published November 14, 2022 by helentastic67

As Promised

As you might have read recently, I was given some awards from my sisters after my father’s funeral. Those being for the “Best/Worst timed noisy nose blow” and the “Best/Worst ugly cry!” By mentioning this again I’m to suggesting I’m bragging or particularly proud of these awards, given humorously on an awful day, however to highlight the giving of an award I’m going to share now.

In the early days of my blogging, another blogger commented calling me the “Meme Queen!” Anyone that doesn’t know, Herllonwheels/Lifeonehanded is a two-woman Team.

If you share a recent follower, you might not be aware I write the words, and the actual memes and the technical part of putting my words out there is generously done by my friend Noelle in Sydney. So, when given the rather royal title above I responded kindly and passed on the credit where credit was due.

With the recent passing of my father, it’s been hard to bring my usual humour to HellOnWheels however, every post that goes live I check the Memes Noelle has chosen and I’ve been cheering at the choices the actual “Meme Queen” has found and hope you realise how great a job Noelle has done.

If you concur, Hit Like.

Inconsistency

Published November 9, 2022 by helentastic67

Inconsistency

Wow, anyone noticed lately I’ve been a little less than consistent? Yeah, I really don’t like being inconsistent. I’m actually always found ways to have routine, even when I did not have study or a full-time job, I built things and life into a routine. Maybe building this and consistency made it easy to keep my AVM be unnoticed for so long. Maybe it’s how I coped. Or the signs of it, I don’t know, it’s a working theory.

So, if you have been following, you know there has been chaos, emotional trauma and grief and my normal routine has been thrown out of whack.

Two brief visits to the country have meant returning home I’ve needed a week just to catch back up on the normal. People assume having carers is set and forget but it requires ongoing maintenance. Having events out of the norm means shuffling, more intensive organising stuff, Admin, housekeeping. It all starts to back up on me. Mail, letters that require action grows, phone calls, emails, new groups plus Zooming.

In times of stress, I’ve always needed more sleep and every now and again I get a migraine where I just can’t function and I’m in bed by 3.30pm and I’m hungover for days despite deadlines and events.

On Thursday last week I went to the AGM of the NGO I’ve volunteered with for over ten years. I’ve been a voting member for 4-6 of those. You member the group that was under valuing me and bullying me. Yeah, that one! I stepped down. Even by choice, with all the other grief and stuff in life to deal with, it was a tear in the corner of my eye moment. I was asked to stand so a room full of mostly strangers could see who I was and asked if I wanted to say something. I did but wasn’t in any state to speak. Nor, would they have wanted to hear what I would have said.

Add to this my carer wore perfume that day. She made the statement “it was her thing!” I’m like, “Get another thing!” And then the migraine to boot.

On the Sunday, I did a BBQ gathering in a local park to celebrate my recent 5-Oh! And upon arrival found the BBQs did not work.

Having some WTF Moments of late, and not coping. Things continue to slip. It’s now practically Wednesday and Tuesday came with two carers arriving because I forgot to cancel one and it allowed me to do some outsourcing and some catching up. My small stack of hospital referrals and letters for appointments has gone. And while this is not the post I’d intended; I will start on the next. A BIG AWARD TO BE REVEALED! Some updates on all the important things and finding new ways to write since I’ve got bigger issues with my one good hand.

TO BE CONTINUED………

The Other Worst Week Ever

Published October 26, 2022 by helentastic67

The Other Worst Week Ever

So, this is the last post with the subliminal message, has anyone picked it yet or even noticed? Please comment.

So, last week was the dreaded week of my father’s funeral, worst day ever. First piece of advice, someone offers you tissues. TAKE THEM!!!

Even though I had a friend, who saw my support person handing me a tissue every other minute, it wasn’t enough.

All the talks-talks, song, light candle stuff for which you think takes forever, it’s over before you know it and I was almost left behind. I did the walk out metres behind his coffin and tried badly to not rush, while desperate not to do the ugly cry. You know the cry where you at least want to bury your face in a hand, so no one witnesses it. You know I use a walking stick in my one good hand right? Yeah, not helpful.

The Funeral Home director asked if I could walk over to the cemetery or if I would need to go over in a car. Wisely, I said yes, car please. He had not been offering me a lift but if I had not been helped into the front passenger seat of the hearse, I would have been left behind. Lovely driver Phil made small talk to take my mind off things. I tried to sell him Dad’s car. But alas, dad no longer has the Valiant Charger in Vitamin C orange. So, that was a fail.

With all the love and respect in the world, if I ever hear the song by Bette Midler, The Rose it will be TOO FUCKING SOON! Jesus Wept!

Second piece of advice, when trying not to do ugly cry, try breathing in and out of your mouth. Not saying it worked, but it felt like it helped. Lastly, my family gave me the awards Best Worst Ugly Cry and Best Worst Timed Ugly Nose Blow. Charming, no.

The night of the funeral we had a pool party with our cousins around catching up and playing pool. I have cousins I’ve not seen for 30 years. And the most common memory was dad teaching everyone how to hammer in nails into a small off cut of pine. One cousin who has become a builder wants dads hammer, but I have already laid claim to it. What! I think we made dad proud that night.

His house felt like a home because it previously felt like someone had been merely existing there. We will be there for this upcoming Christmas, so I imagine dad watching over us as he promised. I might convince a carer one day to hold a nail for me while with half the necessary eyesight I smack in the nail in the triple tap technique my dad used. I’ll explain that better another time.

On Sunday, two days later I received the award of 1st Caligiuri Daughter to surface and be reasonably functionable. The household likes to start the day with coffee. I made the statement I prefer to start the day with my own natural energy and you should all be aware I’m NOT A MORNING PERSON. I need to end the day with my Medicine (coffee) so I can get through the rest of the day.

I guess all the family dysfunction we put off dealing with for one day in the future comes to the foreground when the passing of a loved one happens. Now we have to deal with all of that too. While grieving.

A friend shared a perfect statement with me today “The Price of Love is Grief”

I know this is not a happy post, but I’ll try better next week when I reveal the reason for the subliminal messages.

Life Without My Dad

Published October 17, 2022 by helentastic67

Life Without My Dad

So, writing with an upbeat tone is not going to be easy today. Went clothes shopping last Friday for something Funeral Appropriate and disability friendly. My dad’s funeral is this Friday. I’m revisiting my question to self of “How much snot is in one’s body at any given time?” I did ask Google who was NO HELP!

I’ve ended my day of shopping with a men’s jacket to wear over my standard black pants and the goal to not look like Hannah Gadsby. No offence.

My father had a very quick illness that did not allow me sufficient time to prioritise to drop everything and go see him. He had started treatment but was truly not going to win this war. He had previously beaten bowel cancer and bladder cancer, a heart attack during all the lockdowns in Melbourne.

Despite knowing he is at peace; my heart and soul are weeping. The world seems a little like something is missing if you know what I mean? And I’ve yet to write my contribution to his funeral. I’m not going to be able to read it myself.

Now for your subliminal message.

Cannot promise to be any more upbeat next Monday, can’t be helped.

Some Wisdom

Published October 10, 2022 by helentastic67

Some Wisdom

Because HellOnWheels like myself takes prides on being a multi-faceted blogger, with plenty of different interests’ wisdom and knowledge in life, here’s a little advice from the carpenter’s daughter in me.

“Measure TWICE!
CUT ONCE!”

You’re welcome.

Going for a bit of light humour because it makes things a little better on even our darkest of days. Except for this part.

For my dad Frank, may he Rest in Peace born 15^th July 1948 – 5^th October 2022.

My head understands but my heart and soul are breaking.

Crazy Lady Hormones

Published October 3, 2022 by helentastic67

Crazy Lady Hormones

Have been trying to keep my head above water lately. Have been super emotional and brittle, the last week with crazy lady hormones and other things I can’t mention. I’ve apparently hit the Pause! (A common term for Menopause)

Many people would read this and argue that HellOnWheels is not about brain injury. I say, “Shut the Fuck Up Who asked you” (Note, not a question!). While I’ve had my AVM all my life and didn’t know until I was 34, the treatment I had was radiation that hit the AVM from all different directions. Who is to say the part of my brain that manages all my crazy lady hormones wasn’t hit also.

Note my very non-Doctor terms. I’m not trying to become a doctor, so I have actively tried not to learn correct medical terms for “brain”. So, I don’t know if my years on Dexamethasone (for brain swelling) messed with my hormones rather than stopping my cycle for years or just messed with them. Is there even a test for that?

I actually have a Crazy Lady Hormone Doctor. I usually put the word “Bitch” in there but have to be careful where I put it because my doctor is not the bitch the hormones are. She’s awesome! By the way.

Years ago, I started asking my GP questions to sort out my hormones. The CLBH (Crazy Lady Bitch Hormones) and after I went to this clinic and then that female GP, my GP asked how much money I was going to spend sorting this problem out? The women out there reading this will appreciate it, when I was of the mindset I wasn’t trying to have a baby before the “window closed!” But I did want to not feel like crap two weeks out of every four fucking weeks. With little to show for it some months when Aunt Irma came visiting, but I also wanted to only be hot in summer, or if I went for a drive in a car on a hot day (I’m referring to the HOT FLUSHES people!)

Seriously, ladies! You hear me on this? So, I’ve been dealing with that and all the other fucking things and not holding it all together very well. Also, I barely consider discussing these things with my GP of 15+ years anymore on account of him being a HIM.