2.30am

Published November 28, 2015 by helentastic67

2.30am

There’s a really shitty thing about having a disability, there’s not lots of ‘good things that happen in your life. It’s just more shit things in varying degrees of more shit.

It’s not that I’m always being negative, it’s just really hard to put a positive spin on ‘shit!’

Example; A few weeks ago I had a review for my application for Public Housing. And it seemed that all of a sudden I might not even be eligible because I earn too much! WHAT THE FUDGE???

It seems I earn $12.30 too much per week. I’m not wealthy by any stretch of the imagination. I pay my rent, I pay my bills and I get no funding. I go shopping and while I’m not extravagant I’ve started to do what I call the ‘Povo-shop’ which is to only buy the things on the shopping list and to watch the total at the register with my heart in my throat.

So you can see it’s hard to sugar coat it! It’s hard to put a positive spin on living day to day this way.

And then often friends don’t know how to respond. Trust me, I know it’s horrible, which is why I mostly don’t say anything, but if I say something, I’m not telling you so will offer to fix my problems. I don’t know what would fix my problems.

Please just have some empathy.

It looks like this; don’t say nothing, say something. It might be something really simple like this:

“I’m really sorry, it sucks! I didn’t know it was that bad, let me know if I can do anything…..”

Just so you know, I rarely ask for help, so don’t be afraid I’ll call on you for anything but a chat…

Human Rights

Published November 28, 2015 by helentastic67

Human Rights

Human Rights

There are many examples, I will give where you would imagine, just because I have a disability and because someone collects a wage from a job where they provide a service to those with a disability that you would be treated with respect and provided the services they are entitled to.

I hope my blog over time will express my experience of this sector and that if it is challenging to give a client/patient/customer, what they need then, it’s ok to withhold a service, not delivered a service or just outright bully so you will stop asking.

There are times now, how I’m treated, is outright shocking! And I’m someone who knows what’s going on and how to organise my life and my needs and my services and I dread to think how the people who can’t self-advocate get treated.

I once received a call offering me Public Housing. I know these calls are often met with jubilation and great relief, but I often get a little grumpy and demand “Yes? Where is it?”

Even my friends no longer get excited anymore and demand to be told “Where is it?” On this occasion they building was a new apartment block and the gentleman on the phone after selling me the fact that it was fully functioning, disability friendly bathroom. He told me I couldn’t take my cat!

I am not one to smuggle my fur-baby into my home. People have to know I come with a cat!

I’ve had good house-mates and shitty house-mates. I’ve had shitty boyfriends. Shitty because they are not still here.

I’ve had shitty friends and good friends. All in the last 16 years. They have all come and gone and are no longer here.

The fur-baby is still here!

I often go days without seeing another human being. So my cat is not an optional housemate. I told the gentleman, my cat didn’t cope without me and I didn’t cope without her.

HE TOLD ME TO HAVE HER PUT DOWN!

Now I think you can now tell when I used the term ‘gentleman’ I was being very generous!

Hell on Wheels/Life One Handed

Published November 27, 2015 by helentastic67

Hell on wheels

So, you have probably worked out my blog is not like all the other blog’s you have read and you could fairly presume so far it’s a little on the dark side.

So I think I’ll take the time now to explain the title of my blog.

“HELL ON WHEELS/Not my Best!” (changed it to Life One Handed)

To be clear, my blog has nothing to do with the super awesome AMC TV show called Hell on Wheels. Yes! I watch it! It makes my list and I’m happy to report I’m actually up to date.

So Hell on Wheels is a nickname a friend of my sisters gave me about 20 years ago. I don’t know why, but he is the only one who calls me that and I always kind of liked it. About 8 years ago, I developed a disability that “someone” in their intimate wisdom decide to sort me out with a Mobility Scooter. Some might call them a Rascal! I’ve always called mine ‘Hell on Wheels!’

I’m still working getting the “stickers” to go on the Red plastic. Hell yes! I got red! Red things go faster!

Not all Doom and Gloom

Published November 26, 2015 by helentastic67

Not all doom and gloom

I would like my blog to be something more than dark matter.

Doom and Gloom about disability, so as I had a life before I developed my diagnosis. Thirty plus years of normal life and a really good memory to draw from, so on a lighter note; here’s a little amusing story that I hope people appreciate.

THE FUNNIEST TEXT MESSAGE EVER!

In the very late 90’s I moved back to the country side with my mum and younger sister. I was there for 2 very long years. About once a week we make a trip to the country town I grew up in, about an hour away. Just outside town there is a sign on a gate to a property. The sign clearly states “Cattle!” Shut the Gate. We had many discussions that the cows must be ‘smart cows!’

Fast forward to about 4 years later and I was sitting at my desk, living in Melbourne working.

It wasn’t an extremely happy workplace as I was working for an NGO and had been there for about 3 years always applying for my job and being bullied by some colleagues who had no shame, collecting their pay, despite the fact they spent more time trying to get out of doing their jobs, than actually doing their jobs, which would have been easier.

So this particularly tense day in the office my phone pinged and I quickly glanced at my phone. The text message was from my younger sister. Four simple words that made me laugh so hare I couldn’t breathe and I had tears pouring from my eyes.

Clearly, not the best reaction in an open office, when two staff across the office want you gone and would not be at all thrilled to hear you enjoying “work”.

In front of me, about 4 metres away were my two admin. They both looked at me like I was a little peculiar.

One of the admin was a petite older woman with not a great deal of confidence. I smiled at her and beckoned her over with my finger.

I couldn’t just show her the text as it would have been completely out of context. But I couldn’t immediately tell her either as I was still laughing.

After a little while, I told her and with her British upbringing she patiently awaited the punch line.

The text plainly stated;-

“Smart Cows Got Out!”

On a Happier Note

Published November 26, 2015 by helentastic67

On a Happier Note.

On the upside, as a Barren Spinster (thank you Kitty Flannigan for bringing back the term) and as the proud parent of a Fur Baby, in the family, I’m starting to understand the benefits of more than one cat. My cat is very fussy about her food at the moment. If I had several cats (not going to happen) surely one of those would eat the food, mine currently refuses!.

While I’m on the topic, I’m disgusted at the double standard that a single guy can have an online dating profile and think its okay to claim to have 3 cats, but he’s not interested in a single female with 1 cat – need he say more? – Screw him!!!

Torture for Sure

Published November 26, 2015 by helentastic67

Torture

Today, while I was in the shower, my carer was helping me with a chore, somewhere else in my home. She call out to me –

‘Has your boyfriend been staying over?’

To which I replied ‘WHAT! What boyfriend?’

‘Well, you have all these pajama tops and no pants!’

I told her I had folded the pajama pants already and put them away. Hence why she thought I’d been getting some “action” where the pajama pants were optional.

I informed her – ‘I prefer a little above the waist ‘action’ before any below the waist ‘action’!’

She called out that she was in agreement.

It would probably surprise people that most my friends these days are 10+ years older than me. We have little in common but they’ve seen me naked. They are my carers. I see them more often than I see my actual friends. But this is an example of my sass and why I think my carers like to work with me. Nothing at all to do with seeing me naked.

“Torture for sure!”

DEPRESSION! THE FUCKING POINT!!

Published November 26, 2015 by helentastic67

Depression I may have written this before, but there are a set of questions that people ask to assess a client/patients/mental status. Usually when I get asked these questions by someone who is trying to help me; A doctor, a psychologist, case manager etc. And they are often embarrassed to ask. (I have been probed by many embarrassing questions) After a few questions, I rush in and answer the ‘rest’ of the questions. Let me lay them out for you. They go something like this:-

Have you ever tried to kill yourself?
Answer – No

Have you ever thought about it?
Answer – Yes

Have you ever planned way’s to kill yourself?
Answer – Yes

At some point I cut off the steady flow of questions with the rest of my answers, something like ‘Yes!’ ‘No!’, ‘No!’, ‘Yes!’, ‘Hell No!!’ ‘My mother would revive me to kill me herself!’

This usually confuses the person asking the questions. So the rest of the questions go along the lines of – ‘Will you attempt to take your life?’ ‘No!’ Are you sure (or something along those lines)?’ ‘You will not take your own life?’ This is the answer where I mention my mother.”

I am largely seen as someone with a happy disposition and to be clear, it’s a façade! I cover my sadness with humour. I do it very well. But to be clear sometimes, I think – ‘what is the fucking point?’

So you better appreciate the ‘Fucking Point!’I am a 41ish year old single woman who was born with a brain injury.

After a reasonably “normal” life with the usual ‘hopes and dreams and aspirations for a kind world, love, family, children, a career with some moral standing and happy outcomes, a home, friends, holidays to faraway lands and enough abundance to give generously to others in need.

I was diagnosed with said brain injury and treatment to which ‘cured any potential of a stroke or certain death, and left me with ironically a permanent disability, resembling a stroke!’ And some!

Painfully, people don’t understand my chronic medical conditions and doctors have no answers how someone is born with a brain injury.

So it’s completely inconceivable that what my reality today wasn’t self inflicted.

I don’t fit into any ‘boxes’ for funding and now it’s questionable even the NDIS (National Disability Insurance Scheme) will solve any of my current problems either. It’s been the only beam of light at the end of the tunnel in the last 5 years I’ve had, my permanent disability and NO FUNDING.

So should anyone ever stupidly ask the question, “Why?” She seems OK. She seems happy. She was coping.

Let me answer this now!

I was not happy! Even with a disability, I was barely hanging in there!

To all those people tendering for business and doing big money grab to work in the Disability Sector, you dropped the ball! It was all about helping yourselves. I am NOT AND NEVER HAVE BEEN A COMMODITY, in your game.

My disability and my struggle has not been for your entertainment and your resources to beg corporations for funding.

Give me a Solution NOT MORE PROBLEMS!

If you can’t – STOP HELPING

*And to the best mum in the world! We fought a good fight and there was nothing more you could have done. You don’t deserve another of your children to have perished. However the constant dealing with all the idiots just got too much.