So, there are times I’m at a clinic where there is little privacy. Such as my acupuncturist and physio work simultaneously. At times, you zone out, like when you work in an open-air office. You hear someone telling the Physiotherapist explaining the pain someone is experiencing is coming from somewhere completely different. After some massage of the affected area, they are sent on their way and I hear them ask “what if it keeps hurting?” And I hear him say to stop what they are doing. My impulse control proves lacking when I mutter from behind the curtain “more pain” insane!
Other times, a woman asks the younger physio if he’s going to use needles. He joyfully responds “first we’re going to electrocute you! Then we’re going to stab you!” He does dry needling. She murmurs her reply…
Again, waiting to create some humour, I call out “put me down for some of that.” And they laugh
To be clear, I’ve heard that physio use that line dozens of times and I could help it no longer.
Other times my impulse control is very useful for others present.
In my late 20’s I was sitting in a GP’s clinic waiting room in the country. A mum came in with her son, who was about 6 years old, my mum was there also. The young boy asked his mum a very strange question. “Mum, what’s an Orgasm?”
Oh, dear God! She looked so uncomfortable. I raised my hand off my knee in a gesture and met her eyes and offered “I can do that one if you like?” She let me take it, but I’m sure she was holding her breathe, I looked at the boy and said “You know when you’re going to sneeze? And it feels really good, but you’re not sure if you’re going to sneeze? It builds up? Eventually you sneeze and you are relieved?”Snee
The boy looked at me like he understood and he seemed happy.
The mum looked equally relieved.
Kinda felt like I’d had an Atticus Finch moment as I’d explained the sensation without divulging too much. He must have heard the word somewhere. (I don’t know where the 6-year-old kid heard the word Orgasm…)
I’m sure my mum thought I’d not have gotten involved. Sometime, I think my problem with certain thoughts work out better than expected….
I suspect incompetence does my head in, because while I have a ‘busy-brain’ I imagine it’s part of my ‘high-functioning’ ABI that needs me to be very organised and I cope better when services I rely on are organised too.
My services today were fudged (Go Helen) up in so many ways, this morning I ended up not going to the DDAC (Darebin Disability Advisory Committee) meeting and I was so grumpy when one incompetent staff member (who rang me between) asked how I was, I was blunt and honest and growled ‘NOT Great since you guys stuffed up my carer this morning!’
He asked me what happened and I so didn’t have it in me to explain to another person I grumbled ‘NO, you rang me, what for?
Poor bastard!
Eventually I was told a Maria (Carer) would be here ASAP! I presumed it would be my regular who I’ve had the last two mornings.
Twenty minutes later a woman I’d never met arrived who did do a great job despite never having met me before or probably had changed kitty litter before.
No, I don’t use the kitty litter, but my carers change my cat’s kitty litter while I’m in the shower.
Another weird week has passed! Finished three comics and felt a moment of joy at this until I saw an advert for a Comic Con, in the States. The advert stating “Coming in September in 2015!” Growl!
Went out for dinner Tuesday night with some friends. Damo and my Boo. More later on Damo, however my Boo is one of my lovely gay friends who takes us out every now and again for adventures. We went to a ‘Place’ for dinner, prompting me to give people a pop quiz.
What suburb was this place in and what food did they specialise in? It was called Coburger and Co. Hint: There is a suburb in the North of Melbourne called Coburg. This pop quiz really threw a few people and they live here.
It’s going to be a monthly adventure ongoing as it’s good to catch up with friends and have a laugh. My chicken burger with Kim chi set my mouth on Fire!
Wednesday for some crazy reason, I had a weird song in my head that I proceeded to share with Young John and Maria my Chiro who I’ve been seeing for over 12 years.
This song is a bit of an ear-worm so it quickly prompted her to thank me because she couldn’t get it out of her head either. Your welcome! Try the link at the bottom for a taste of Aussie/wog culture from the 80’s! As I prompted Young John….feel free to join in!
This week I decided to call my father. I only see him once a year. The only time I speak to him is if and when I call him. I attempted to express how much I needed his help. How I’ve spent money on new pants in time for winter ($24). How often I do my laundry so I can utilise my warmest tops. I even attempted to express how my fur-baby had been good for my mental health. Let me just say I used to be much better at guilting my father into helping me, because it would seem that’s my role in our family. I will also say it was half an hour of my life I will never get back!
Thought I would have a nice Thursday at home, but while I was at home I instead spent the afternoon chasing up services that didn’t just happen. Really wish my service providers would get their shit together to do their jobs.
Friday morning, I had a visit from a vampire. Taking my blood for a barrage of tests. Said vampire asked when I would see my GP again? It’s ok, if there’s anything noteworthy he will call me. Just checking up on the iron levels and such and the crazy lady hormones.
Not sure if I’ve expressed sufficiently how cold my home is in winter or the cheek I have with my carers however, Friday I gave my carer the Coo-Wee! That signalled I was ready for her help in the bathroom and after a deafening silence I heard the doorbell. Not uncommon however Aunty Christine was in the house this day and she has been one of my regulars for over 4 years. So, only able to throw a towel over one shoulder I padded bare ass naked really to the front door to let her back in. Steam coming off my very warm body and prompting Aunty Christine that she was not yet ready for her apprenticeship to be done.
Come a September I lose these carers I’ve had for the longest. I don’t have any new girls who I imagine will take their place.
Had an extra visit to my favourite cafe with my Friday afternoon carer so that was nice. Home again and smashed out a large slow cooker batch of minestrone the yield was about 8 Passatta bottles (300mls each). It’s always nice to gift someone a bottle of soup in winter when they have done something nice for me. I’m such a Nonna. (BT Dubs, that’s an Italian Grandmother!) I now need to offload half of the minestrone so I can make a batch of bolognaise sauce. Have I mentioned I don’t know how to cook for just one?
Now, despite my best efforts at times at avoiding lifting my slow cooker there are times carers don’t turn up or I can’t find someone to lift the very heavy ceramic bowl up onto the bench or to the sink to soak before washing etc. I imagine I lifted it about five times, which is about half the amount of times it moved in order for me to use it and empty every last drop of the minestrone soup from it. I shouldn’t lift it at all obviously so I do love when I have a carer my age who complains about how heavy it is. I nip their cries in the bud quickly stating “Tell me about it. I moved it one-handed!”
I don’t make a habit of lifting heavy things one handed anymore as I think I can blame doing this for my disc-bulge surgery back in 2011. There are times now when I forget how long that year was getting diagnosed, suitably medicated and eventually surgery on 11/11/11, when I get some stabbing sensation in my lower back and I realise I’ve got to stop lifting heavy things and I’m really not ready for another year existing only by spending all my time lying on my bed.
Single girl date night I watched Trainspotting 2, the sequel to the 90’s film Trainspotting. Not as shocking as the first but a 20-year reunion to see what happened to these characters.
Meanwhile, another week passes and a nice busy week coming. Winter in Melbourne and wet. Super!
Should mention the best way to survive winter in Melbourne is layers, layers and layers. Oh, wool jacket, umbrella and great coffee! Handy hint if coming to town! I’ve been wearing wool under my jackets for months, I can only go one further by wearing my long-sleeved wool jacket under my heavier jacket. It’s already next Level.
The only upside is the very brilliant TV series filmed in Melbourne called Offspring has returned. If you have the opportunity watch it!
I imagine Irony has taken on a whole new meaning since I’ve developed my disability and it’s going to require some explaining so hang tight and buckle in!
HACC Services provide my carers through State Funding. It subsidises the fees so instead of me paying $40.00 per hour, I only pay $2.00. I get a carer 3 – 4 days a week for an hour and on Fridays I have shopping or Homecare, it all starts to add up.
With the roll-out of the NDIS, the council still gets funding from that bucket of money, but because they will be expected to offer more hours to their clients, they would rather utilise that funding in other ways.
Like ‘Tourism’, apparently, I have no idea! Don’t ask!
That is another point for another day.
I digress, my council also has a DAC! Sorry, another acronym – Disability Advisory Committee.
It is very heavy on council staff, such as ‘Tourism’ and service providers. However, the irony is this: ‘My council loves people like me to go volunteer my time to share my opinion and input so they can better service their community.
A survey I participated in recently, tells me they are far more interested in not offending the LBTG community, than looking after the people with disabilities and when I say that I’m not meaning any disrespect to Gays (love them) Lesbians (Thespians as I like to call them), bi-sexual (yeah, I know, you just love people to work it out and when you decide, let me know), Transgenders.
Be brave! Be who you want to be (anyone else has another opinion, you should do what’s right for you and let everyone else do what’s right for them)
Hope I adequately explain my opinion, quickly and succinctly on all those topics!
The bottom line is I don’t have time to give my time for meaningless surveys.
I’m thinking to rename my Wednesday Pinchy/Stabby day to include Mental Health somehow. Because that is what I’m working on by the appointments I keep every Wednesday and yummy lunch never hurts.
I just had some friendly banter with the Barista on my way past. The owner Rob is looking rather slim lately so I suggested one of these days if I can’t buy any of my favoured options, I could resort to a nice salad with my latte.
Would that be healthy? Or counter-productive?
Turns out Rob the owner has hit the gym. I delivered the Barista a friendly STFU because I can’t go to the gym.
Or I wouldn’t be able to do it justice so it would do my head in.
So, on today’s lunch menu is another Arancini, In the form of a Zucca Arancini with a side salad.
Not much to bang on about for the week that was…….didn’t feel like I ‘kicked any goals’ so to speak.
My mum was down literally for only 24 hours in which time we drove several suburbs out of our way to get my new Dripolator coffee machine. Don’t ask……….Mum was actually down for a medical appointment of her own so once in the electrical goods store when mum mentioned where she was from and what she had come down to, (medical appointment) the staff murmured a noise of concern. (You know how woman do?) I cut the tone short by saying “It’s ok, she going to live forever!” Then they presumed I was not thrilled by this prospect. So, I had to dispel that also. I paid for my new medicine machine (coffee maker!) and mum of course stated she was there to carry it to the car. I growled at her that the box was full of plastic and air, as if she should stop complaining and because we always compete as to who gets the last word I snapped out; ” It’s because of me we get a carpark right next to the door!” I gave a coy smile to the startled staff and turned to head for the door. They laughed!
This is pretty stock standard of my mum and my level of communication. We don’t hold back if one of us things the other is deserving of a “Fuck off!” Or a “Whatever!” And it has taken 10 years for us to reach this point. Don’t be concerned, it’s a positive.
Sometimes I wonder how other bloggers go about ‘naming and shaming’ poor attitudes of family and friends and if they worry about backlash? But I understand my family might occasionally look at my blog but largely don’t bother. That said, I heard this week my younger sister (I’ll point out arrived just shy of my 15th birthday) is just starting 4 weeks of leave from her work. I offered she could come and visit a few days, we could hang out, go places, do things. Visit the Van Gogh exhibition at the NGV?
This quiet not confident offer was suggested on Facebook, the way distant family communicate. I was swiftly dealt a curt, “Nope!” I offered she could think about it a bit longer before deciding. Did I mention I changed this sibling’s nappies 28 years ago? And I see my sisters usually once a year.
Said younger sister, well deserving of her holiday. Not untrue, just doesn’t get my call for a visit and I couldn’t be bothered poking this bear. Leaving me a little sad. Does anyone else have a suggestion on how to prod family in a way I won’t have my one good hand bitten off?
And yes, like I mentioned I don’t think my family will read this since I have proof I have more Impact on people around the world from me than my own blood. Nothing like feeling like your living outside a family, trying to look in.
Feel free to give me a Like so I know you stopped by.
Otherwise, the week saw 2 comics move locations this week. No new posts written in pen on paper. A visit to the city to see my shrink. Did a workout (one-handed) on a photocopier of the next 40 posts to post to the lovely Noelle my Administrator.
Discovered my new favourite card shop in the city. Found completely on a whim, and was even able to replace my oven timer for baking accuracy. Didn’t realise how heavy it was until I got home. My bag was so heavy on Monday!
Got some big numbers on my pedometer this week. 4,444 – 5,739 and today a neat 69! My left foot is really paying for it. Often those busy days I can’t feel my left foot until it HURTS! So clearly not happy I still don’t have my NDIA funded shoes!
Had my once-yearly haircut this week, only 9 months overdue. I’ve given up paying rent on time and prioritised things I want/need instead. I asked my hairdresser for a discount on my trim (B.T. dubs:3 inches) and I’ve never felt so humiliated for being poor but wanting to be treated like everybody else. How dare I imagine I was allowed to? Left me feeling rather sad and sick and unpampered. (I didn’t get a wash or a blow dry and she was still put out for not respecting she was running a business) very sad face!
Still plenty of issues managing my HR, (Human Resources/carers) but it’s an ongoing issue.
Single girl date night saw me watch Underworld. Blood Wars. Mostly, I single tasked but it’s always a challenge………
With the plunger coffee finally put to rest with the new medicine machine I posed the question of a few trusted advisors, plunger coffee or no coffee? In the same tone as bad sex or no sex? The answer was neither in case anyone asks?
Sensory deprivation is a weird thing. But I can best describe it as this; When I was about 23 years old having a tickle fest with a boyfriend, I was much less ticklish on my left and that was before my “stroke, not stroke.”
There have been times I’ve been leaning forward digging around my front loader washing machine and I go to slam the door shut and I have an intense pain in my left hand. Crap! My left arm has dangled forward and my hand has found its way inside the door, minor problem, but other times like yesterday, I took an oven tray from the oven, put it on the stove top and moved slightly to the right to work on the small amount of bench space to the right of the stove.
Took me a moment or three to feel an annoyance to my left hand. It was an annoyance until it hurt and I stopped what I was doing to investigate. My left hand was leaning against the tray I removed it and continued with the task at hand. (no pun intended).
Hours later, I was sitting on the couch (seriously, 7 hours later) and I was scratching at an annoyance on my left hand, then I stated rubbing it.
Finally, I looked at my hand, yes, I had burnt it and I’d broken the skin.
Cream, bandaid and off to bed.
So, this is often how sensory or sensation awareness plays out particularly when you’ve lost some…
Today, I thought I’d explain why I do my foodie lunch on a Wednesday. At times, I will hibernate for a long weekend and it saves me some money. I catch up on perceived or real chores at home and try to not spend money I don’t have.
Then on a Wednesday, by the time I get out to do my standard Punchy/Stabby day. (Chiropractor/Acupuncture) its real-peoples lunch time. To avoid eating lunch at 5pm when I return home, I eat here. At my favourite cafe. (No, I’m not telling! Its popular enough!) for a month I stopped coming in desperate efforts to live without….and save some money.
The older more familiar staff here know me by name, know my medical situation and I know a little something about them. The newer, younger staff see me as a young professional. (Note; Young/Professional!) I come in, do some ‘work’, eat my lunch. Smile and wave a friendly goodbye when I depart.
The owner, Robert even stops to say hello. I have even bought in sum of my foodie treats which he appreciated. Clearly, on a home bake level but the thought and different flavour I imagine he appreciated. He told me so! He once ate one of my ginger kisses right in front of me and he genuinely liked it.
After a few days in isolation, I returned here on a Wednesday and I gather my absence was noticed. Robert came down from his office and without ignoring his business and responsibilities, he said in passing “Hello Beautiful!” and I nearly cried.
So, the cost of lunch out is also part of my good mental health. This amazing lunch today, is a chicken and Mediterranean filo pastry thing. (Note; didn’t catch the name) with a nice little side-salad and a latte.
The cost of this tasty lunch was only $15.10.
I shouldn’t feel guilty about this should I?
And yet I’m learning some valuable lessons right now between ‘Want & Need’ & Humiliation.
Stay tuned.
Like sands through an hourglass and so are the days of. No! I can’t finish it. It’s another Hot off the Press! Another week has gone and a new one dawning. Always feel like I’m behind and I can’t catch up!
Last week, I had a little catch up on self-maintenance. Had a nice paraffin hand treatment. Not because I’ve been particularly wealthy, but because the anniversary of my WTS, White Tail Spider bite has happened and the itchiness and the peeling skin has ended and putting moisture back into my one good hand was imperative. Had my lovely Mio/Remedial massage at home in my own lounge (which is heated) unlike the old bluestone church I normally re-dive my free community it’s health services. Definitely plan to keep the rest of the day free so I can go kip. It’s a plan!
Moved some comics, it’s from the big pile to the smaller one. Three comics this week, well I’d half-read one of them, but again still counts!
I imagine I’ve failed to mention I read the Joss Whedon comics? Buffy, Angel, Spike, Willow to name just a few? There! Now, I have.
Have been watching a doco-type TV show on cars. From the UK. Not your family style station wagons at all but I’m behind on all TV shows because I watch so very much. And yes, TG, that’s Top Gear is on that list. I’m just discovering if it is any good without Jeremy Clarkson and the lads? Jury is still out. It’s too soon to tell. My original Hellonwheels scootering T-Shirt is a Stig Tee. Of the Tame Racing Car driver. I really wanted the T-Shirt that announced “I am the stig!” because it’s a mystery who wears the white suit. Or is it?
I’ve been having a Hate/Hate relationship with my oven. Just made a carrot cake, which went better than the first attempt. This one managed to get cream cheese frosting on it. I now must proceed to give as much away as possible, so I’m not tempted to eat some every day. Just starred at it longingly wondering if I could have it for breakfast? (The answer is of course no. You cannot!) as I’m taking my breakfast to eat on the train to the city. Yes, it’s my Bullshit form of retirement I have.
And a planned afternoon tea with some friends on Tuesday. Stay tuned.
Managed to implement a successful Single Girl Date Nite! I watched a DVD a friend loaned to me. “An Affair to Remember.” Good Lord! Just consulted the Google Machine……it was released back in 1957!
Have still failed to improve my sleeping pattern, and will be reporting as much tomorrow when I see my Shrink! However, Saturday night was in bed by 12.30am! So, it’s fair to say, I’m feeling old! As that used to be the time I was arriving at the first club on a Saturday night! Life as I knew it is over. Is this really it?
Still, all the same drama and red tape to sort funding. In particular for the rather Exe shoes I need for my AFO.
There is something I love about where I live, I don’t live in suburbia (Disturbia) but I live far enough out from the city I have plants and rosebushes in the front yard. I even have a lawn and a Nature strip.
But most important, I have a peach tree in front of my bedroom window.
Without a doubt towards the end of Winter I will open my bedroom blinds every day to watch the slow-motion nature documentary of the blossoms forming, then opening, being open for what seems like only days before a Spring rain hits and a gust of wind blows it all away.
The blossoms are replaced by green buds from the leaves. The fruit arrives, but they never get a chance to grow to their potential as the locals come and pick the tree clean, before I get any.
I have been in bed (on a rare occasion) before midnight and turned out the lights to hear two girls dump a plastic tub down on the ground while exclaiming “Oh my God!” because they can’t believe how much fruit there is.
I’ve crawled out of bed, moved around to the window and growled “Scram!”
Others come at 5pm while I’m lying on my bed in the afternoon having my coffee and they fill their huge grocery bags.
Do you think anyone knocks on my door during daylight? Because if they asked, I would say yes and tell them they’re not ripe and that they’re the type of peaches you peel, chop up and boil before baking them into something.
One year my yield was three bags that went into the freezer. I gave a bag to my sister who told me some time later she found it in her freezer and threw it out!
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Hell onWheels/Life One Handed 