Efficient – Part 2

Published January 10, 2020 by helentastic67

Efficient 2

Now, you might imagine having carers or to use their current tittle “Support Workers” is so easy (said no one ever). But you really should imagine it’s like having “staff” or running a busy café where people come for short shifts and someone else off site manages their comings and goings and they might work for several agencies that give them clients/shifts. Now, I’ve been doing this ‘shit’ for about thirteen years and it’s still not perfect.

I like being very efficient to make my life work best and normally the less times I have to attend to something, the more efficient it is. However, the more times I have to touch something to have it run smoothly the way it should because, it’s the way I asked for it the first fucking time, it’s always getting moved.

Of course, I have an example for you!

My carer should arrive on a Sunday morning at 10am for a ninety-minute shift. My main agency that covers all my PC (Personal Care) morning shifts has a few carers who are prepared to do weekend work, so they have outsourced me to another agency. Now, we know from Japanese whispers, the more people involved in relaying a single message, the results or the goal sets diluted and altered when your shift gets outsourced, it works the same way.

Also, because I’m not in the office rostering, but I’m on the cold-face (receiving service) I know more about the big picture. Also, because I make conversation with the carers, because they are in my home.

This particular Sunday, it was my mum’s 70^th and family were converging from two different directions at my place at 12pm. Are you doing the maths?

They arrive at 10am, leave by 11.30am, I may eat ‘something’ small to get me through to midday lunch. A call to my main agency (let’s call them MH) during the week, told me she would be coming at 11am.

What? NO!

I rang MH and told them it had to be 10am because of XYZ. They rang the agency (let’s call them MC) because I can. They locked it in for 10am. Bingo, right?

Um, don’t be fucking ridiculous. On the morning, I woke early, got back to sleep eventually and kept waking, stressed she would arrive on time.

10am – I woke, no carer, it’s cold, so I stayed in bed to wait. 10.30am, BUZZ. My carer had arrived, late. Yet her roster states 11am.

I am of the understanding she sometimes has a catering order that needs to be filled. It’s rather ad-hoc so not consistent and I know this because people come to my home, so I get to know them.

As I have a brain injury, I often find people underestimate how switched on I am. It’s a misconception all brain injured people must be stupid. We are not and I’m speaking for all people with brain injuries. You’re Welcome.

So, I know when this shit happens, I am fully aware of who did what, who didn’t and who just said they would fix the roster and never intended to and the fact that I know this is all very taxing too.

I’m an overthinker, I think its anxiety and I think part of it is being a high functioning ABI. And the majority is my need to be efficient, because why is it so fucking difficult?

So, every day, there are examples of this where I need to touch on something to get it running smoothly.

Murder

Published October 28, 2019 by helentastic67

Murder

Oh, my Sweet Jesus Nelly! I don’t know if you can tell, but ‘Sweet Jesus’ has become part of my repertoire for swearing, but in this case it’s not in frustration or disgust, it’s because a carer shared the most hilarious side-splitting story with me on Monday.

Often as part of my time with carers I greet them with ‘how was your weekend?’ or whatever. I do see my carers more than family or friends, so I get their home lives set-up and know if they have had a good weekend or otherwise.

My Girl-Monday, lives with her son, daughter-in-law and 2.5-year-old granddaughter, while the husband is elsewhere finishing up selling a house, so he can join her in Melbourne. So, it was a bit of a surprise when Girl-Monday and I were in my ensuite and she came out with this statement.

“My daughter-in-law almost murdered my son on the weekend!”

WHAT?

I’m sorry What?

Did you say what I think you just did?

She did and she repeated it. My eyes darted to her face.

Apparently, the young granddaughter can get into the cot by herself (can you hear where this is going?) I’m thinking ahead and maybe they are already outsourcing parenting at bedtime and it goes like this.

“Oh, are you feeling sleepy? Do you want to get into bed?” Crazy right? I suspect this in reverse is why the son decided to teach the daughter (carers granddaughter) how to get out of the cot.

I looked at my carer and gave her a long Noooooo!!!!

So, he must have thought if in the morning and she wakes up before they are ready to get out of bed, they can call to her “Sweetie, do you want to get into bed with mummy and daddy?” and they wouldn’t need to go get her.

Again, I looked to my carer in a questioning his intelligence and of way. She informed me he is well educated intelligent young man.

I’m just thinking he has not thought this through and I’m with the daughter-in-law. Even now my sides hurt thinking about how my carer told me about this situation Monday morning.

I’m a single barren spinster, but I’ve had two younger sisters and even I know better.

Sock Nest

Published October 25, 2019 by helentastic67

Sock Nest

There are brief opportunities to be answered by the little things about disability and you need to embrace them. Keeping in mind I’m well aware compared to others with disabilities far worse than mine, they would wish this to be one of their problems. But I still like to share.

Having a full left-sided hemiplegia means I have limited sensation on my left. My left arm, leg and particularly my left foot gets rather cold, so beds socks are a must.

But you know that half sleepy moment in the mornings, you stretch out and draw your feet up in bed? Sometimes, if you feel your sock coming off, you push your foot back down to push it back on, then change the angle before you repeat the movement, in the hope you don’t lose your sock. I often get out of bed in the morning to find I’m missing my left sock.

My carer generally notices it and I snort a ‘whatever’ and later I need to go back and dig around for it. It’s often tucked under Mika my cat, who settled at my feet.

Other times, by the time I get to find the sock, there is more than one. Last week I found a nest of three socks and they were all together.

No wonder I had carers complaining they couldn’t match up my socks. Clearly, it’s no biggy. If no one dies, we’re all ok. It’s a damn bed sock. Put it in the draw, it’s mate will join it eventually.

Society

Published August 9, 2019 by helentastic67

Society

Today, my carer told me the most ridiculous thing in the world, I have possible ever heard. This particular carer who will be reading this when it goes live (Yes, I’m talking about you).

A young lady (it’s a loose term, but let’s go with it) cut her hand off to avoid having a job and work. I flicked a demanding look at this carer and gave her a “What the fuck” there’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.

Apparently, the parents took her to hospital and they were able to re-attach it and with rehab she can use that hand.

I then suggested she could have cut off some fingers (not her whole hand) or some toes and she might qualify for a Disability and get a free pass from work. My carer and I laughed at this suggestion.

I then finished with, if she was one-handed, she would work, everyday for her God-Damned Life.

I’m sure that is enough to make on this point and for my older more mature followers who are still (I hope) reading at this point completely get that the real lesson here is how society is going to hell in a hand basket, if the younger generation think they need to avoid working by doing something so drastic.

Being the age, I am and despite having a brain injury, all of my life I have a good work history. Ok, ‘good’ might be exaggerating it a little, but I don’t know how to sit still and not contribute to the world somehow.

Apartment Living

Published May 27, 2019 by helentastic67

Apartment Living

It’s noisy, but quiet, it’s a very odd contradiction, so I shall need to explain. When I moved into my apartment (I rent) over a year ago, I was concerned about if it would be noisy or smelly or if I would never see my neighbours.

Once you are inside your apartment, you can’t really hear loud TV’s or dogs barking or loud thumping music from your neighbours. Once you close the heavy front door, you don’t hear anything from your neighbours. I sometimes hear people race past my front door to get to theirs or heading to the lift.

Sometimes if I’m heading to the lift and hear a door slam behind me, I’ll hold the lift door for anyone behind me. Then we proceed to have a brief awkward conversation about good timing and never seeing anyone else. So, yes I rarely see anybody from my floor.

I’m in an apartment block on a very busy corner. There is a main street where at my corner it forks off in a slightly north/eastern direction on the tram line and at the middle of the ‘bits’ (not sure how to best describe this) there is a pub. Across the street are more apartments. In my block, we are six storeys and across the street they are even higher.

The noise from the traffic, the trams, the pub. It’s ridiculous, the cars and motorcycles, the service vehicles, I can’t tell anymore, is it an ambulance, police car? I hear several of those every day.

One morning my carer arrived after I’d woken early and attempted to get back to sleep. An alarm of some kind had started and been going for about twenty minutes. My carer was with me for about ninety minutes. You tune it out after a while and the silence between seem to get a little longer and we looked at each other. Hopeful? Did it stop? No! Damn it!

I heard noises before, but never been able to workout where it was coming from or what it was to alert us to. I presume it was the apartment building across the street. I don’t know what it’s to alert or for what. If I could call someone, I wold but who would that be? If that person knew already, why weren’t they doing something about it?

My carer left and ten minutes later after a migraine had set in and taken hold, it stopped. Posing the question, WHY? And of course, can it stop?

Tears

Published April 22, 2019 by helentastic67

Tears

There are sometimes these days when I have a superpower, I never knew I had. I can make my carers cry. What? I know, it’s not on purpose.

It’s often the best conversations with my carers about all things ‘Helen’ (for want of a better term) the things that have moulded me and made me the person I am today.

This particular day, I told my carer about what it was like in the early 80’s in my family after the death of my fifteen-month-old sister.

She had been born on my eighth birthday and for fifteen months I helped bath her, change nappies, do “mum stuff” and we had one birthday together where we had an Ice Cream cake and we were both sick. We have a photo to commemorate the day. Very understated and in the last month of her life, she was taken to the local hospital in the country town where I grew up. The doctors, I believe misdiagnosed her, but by this stage she had already likely had a stroke. She was flown to Melbourne and within a (hear me flown to Melbourne.) month she was gone. My parents had to make the decision to turn off her life support.

I recall a family visiting us and the father distinctly placed a dining chair in a location, so he could sit with his back to a photo of Linda (that was her name) so he couldn’t see it.

There is an assumption when a child dies, that you should rid your home of all the photos and things that remind you of them, almost as if they had never existed, which seems wrong.

To be clear Linda died from a huge tumor.

After a while, because family and friends just didn’t know how to help or were just too sad, they just decided to stay away.

From nine years old, for a good few years, life was really lonely. I then told my carer a story of a friend of mine in the ABI community who passed away about six years ago.

I had to stop going to the place I would see him, because when my taxi arrived, I would be crying silent tears and the poor driver would not know what to do (poor bastard). I had to stop going, but whenever I return for a rare one off gathering, I sat somewhere I cannot dart my eyes towards the picture of him. I used to get through our gatherings always casting a look in his direction and we seemed communicate so much with our eyes. Anyway, more of him another day as I can feel the tears.

So yes! My superpower is I can make people cry, but it’s usually when my voice breaks a little and in crying.

Next time I want a better super power. Feel free to comment below as to what your super power is or would want it to be.

No cliché, X-ray vision or invisibility please.

Grumble for Help

Published April 1, 2019 by helentastic67

Grumble for help

It is often a challenge for people to know when to offer help to someone with a disability and when to politely want to be asked. Ironically, I often am asked by people if they should ask at all. I am fiercely independent and I recently had a conversation on this exact same topic with my carer, whom I go out shopping with and do my only food preparation days with.

Do You Need Help

We agreed, I will attempt everything first, I might give out noisy, grumpy sounds as I struggle and when I swear a little, it’s probably still okay. But if I sound frustrated, that’s when she knows to offer assistance.

When to offer help

That’s also what I love about this particular carer.

Love carer

Letters

Published March 8, 2019 by helentastic67

Letters

On an occasion I require someone I trust to read a document or letter, I can’t, I think you all realise I’m not an idiot, this is not why I need someone to help me in this way. Reading anything longer than part of a recipe has the ability to give me a migraine and somethings are just not in simple English.

Not an idiot

Recently, I entrusted a carer to read a letter attached to a Visa statement. Because I don’t have regular scheduled visits from my mum (the only member of the Team Helen) and the time I’m lucky to get from busy friends we spend on more of the ‘fun things’ I asked a carer to read the letter attached to the Visa Statement.

Read my statement

Firstly, I suggested for her to not look at the actual statement, I reassured her I didn’t have a ridiculously high limit on my card and I had a low interest rate. We had previously discussed what it cost me every month in interest charges and when I stated how low they were, I had to mention how little an interest rate you can get, if you are prepared to change cards (my previous account I could quote the digits without looking at the card). Sadly, it went as well as the 18% interest rate for something more affordable.

Don't read the statement

I digress, she started to look at it and ask if I wanted her to read it to me? I told her no and paraphrasing it to me would be fine. I really wanted to know the dot points, if I don’t pay the full balance by tomorrow, will they kill my whole family. Because I’ve had it sitting on my desk for weeks. A month has passed and the family is all still with us and so is my Visa and the next statement has arrived, more damn reading.

Life One Handed – Part 1

Published February 1, 2019 by helentastic67

lifeonehanded1

Life One Handed Part 1

On a very rare occasion a person carer will have her hands full and doing something to help me with ‘whatever’ and they will say to me “I had the experience of what it must be for you one handed”.

experienceonehanded

Sometimes, it’s not even a comment but a shared look and I will give them a murmur of aging with them and respond “Sucks doesn’t it”

Sucks Doesn't it

Because while they have that brief shared experience with me, I live it every single day. There is no ‘freeing up a hand, there is no break or holiday’

livingwithit

It’s all the friggin time. Ad nauseum.

adnauseum

I guess I should point out it is even more frustrating watching someone struggle to do something with two hands, that I can do very easily with on one hand.

Struggling with 2 hands

I had a young carer once who I gave the task to go hang out some bath mats on the line and on a clothes rack. I gave her the small clothes rack and she commented how much she hated them.

clothesrack

I waited a moment to witness her hold one rail in a hand and fling it around a bit. I don’t know what she was expecting to happen, but she seemed to be having a very hard time. Like she was having a fit. No, really!

I walked away because I couldn’t just stand and watch. I also had to let her wear herself out. Because, I also needed to use “words” to describe to her how to do it.

nowords1

In the end she got there, but it seriously would have been easier had she given it back to me to do. I’m not saying it was the nail in the coffin for that carer to not return to me, it wasn’t, but it didn’t help.

nailinthecoffin

So great was my frustration.

frustraion

Cheeky

Published August 3, 2018 by helentastic67

Cheeky

Now, I like to imagine by now, you are fully aware I am a bit cheeky. I can’t be my usually cheeky self around family, because they don’t get it. Weird right? But I’ve got a new carer who takes me shopping and she has worked out very quickly how ‘fresh’ she can be with me, which is good.

Family weird

We have been doing a little driving to locations, I can get to certain things without adding to the chaos and me having to carry things.

So, last Friday, after driving to a Health Food shop where I get some of my ‘good pills’ which I get in bulk, so they are cheaper. We drove to a neighbouring suburb to the Petshop. This pet shop has a cat that requires re-homing, there might be a kitten, bunnies, fish. Yeah! That kind of pet shop.

Pet shop

We pulled up in a car park on the street and when my carer was ready to disembark, she came out with a command.

“GET OUT”

Get out

To be fair, I wasn’t expecting it, but after a snort, I burst out laughing and so did she.

Burst out Laughing

To be fair, it is always good to have a laugh when out with my carers because people don’t just see me as someone with a disability. People see me out with my ‘girlfriends’ laughing. Sharing stories and wit and people then don’t notice my disability. However, some carers don’t realise if they think they can out do me with wit, they are mistaken.

Hanging out with friends