Today’s Lunch 6th September 2018

Published September 6, 2018 by helentastic67

Todays Lunch

Today’s lunch

Good Mental Health Day

Allow me to start with some good news and a shout-out to one of my carers who is currently away. Well, miss you and my new bag is fine. A friend visited late last week with her skates on! (No, really!) and she lengthened the strap on my new bag prompting me to let you know I’m enrolling you into an extensive 1 to 1, 6 months full time course on how to lengthen straps on bags. My friends going to give you an exclusive course. I know, 6 months. Never fear, you will come out with a certificate one, in bag strap adjusting totally worth it! I imagine you can use these skills for the rest of your life. Totally worth it! (Yes, I am kidding)

New bag

I am not nailing this 1am bedtime curfew. I can’t manage to make it to bed by 1, then I hear the street cleaners before too long anyway. Then get woken the first time around 4am. People wonder why I’m so grumpy.

Grumpy cat

So, planning plenty of writing today. With lunch of course.

Well, if you read my posts each day you might have noticed, that didn’t happen on the correct date. Yes, Wednesday I went back to bed with a crappy migraine, slept until 5pm and it was quiet on the home front as the trams weren’t running. There is a tram stop at my door for the city. I had caught a tram home later in the afternoon on Tuesday and it was pure agony. Buses replacing trams, I had followed directions in Clifton Hill from my usual tram stop to the train station to get a bus. After going up and down the ramps to get to speak to an actual person and given more terrible half-baked directions, I walked even further to be directed to a bus. There were 3 men in hi-vis on the bus, none of whom knew what the hell was happening.

Trams

Get a clue people! Should I mention do not prove incompetent when a woman is sliding into the pause. My crazy lady hormones are playing up and I can’t do person properly! Good thing I stayed at home Wednesday.

Crazy lady hormones

Thursday, I more than made up for it. After my carer did my cleaning I went out for lunch. A nice local, I used to do lunch at 15 years ago when I worked not far from where I now live. They specialise in Lebanese pizza’s. so, haloumi cheese. I always order a vegetarian pizza (don’t judge me) with salami. Plus, I settled in for 2 medicines to deal with my migraine that just does not want to go away!

Vegetarian Pizza

Latte

Latte 2

Upon returning home I got down in to B1, where my scooter shed lives and dug around in my gardening supplies to pot some of my bulbs. Some things went home or were thrown out when I moved so it’s going to take time to restock.

Pot plants

While I can already predict next week will be chaos, hopefully I’ll get back to my regular haunt to see familiar faces.

Chaotic week

Cheers,
H

Great week

Good Times

Published September 3, 2018 by helentastic67

Good Times

So, I’m the first to tell you, my mum and I haven’t always enjoyed our time together which is harsh to say, because she is my biggest, well, most of the time, the only family member to support me. There are times we really don’t hold back in telling each other where to go.

Mum and I

My mum is known to give me her first “whatever” within minutes of arriving and then I inform her exactly how soon she has given me a “whatever”. Mmmmmmm

Whatever

Today, while out in the car. No Young John, as I had my mum taxi. Out on the road, she asked where we were going? Yet she chooses when she wants directions for how to get there. Everything was fine, she insisted if she needed directions, she would ask.

Mum Taxi

Not much later she was driving into a carpark and she fudged it and I said nothing. Until, she insisted I could have “helped her”.

Parking car

So, I started to commentate “I wouldn’t have done it like that!” “Too deep.”

That really was just the surface. “She laughed”

I had previously explained my younger carers that take me shopping, often feel very self-conscious about their driving, so I feel the need to explain I didn’t drive before my disability and there have been moments when I have been sitting in a car in my own driveway diagonal to the street. And I have been wondering “How the fuck did this happen?” But all I could do was take a deep breath and pause.

How the fuck did that happen

We arrived at my chiropractors and I shared this experience with my Chiro, who explained it was hard to drive into carparks (parallel carparks) and I replied. “Mum used to drive into carparks when she drove a Ford Falcon station wagon on Chapel Street!” followed be “Game on wench!”

Parellel Parking

She just looked at me and laughed.

On the road again and mum spies some guy crossing the street, she comments “see that guy with the backpack on?” I looked confused? “You mean that guy with a child on his shoulders?” Oh, so it is!” mmmmmmm

Child on shoulders

Have I mentioned my eyesight? And that I’m not allowed to drive? To be fair, I wouldn’t drive with all my other physical deficiencies. It would just be stupid.

Blind

Helpful

Published August 31, 2018 by helentastic67

Helpful

It’s always odd when I’m thinking to write and cover a particular topic and something really nice or sweet happens, that pushes me over the line to cover a particular topic.

Something nice

I am often faced with people asking me if I need help and if I’m offended when people do because I so rarely take people up on their offer, but would prefer people to offer because I won’t always ask if people don’t think to.

Do you need help

Helen, can I help you get to the toilet?

Helen do you need me to wipe your bum for you?

Wipe your bum

OK, to make a point, one of those (which has never been offered to me) is too much. I hope you can tell which.

People don’t really offer to do much at all for me. Family, friends, anyone, because they assume I’m OK. I mean I’ve dropped my purse in the entrance to a train station and I was going to struggle to pick it up again. The train was pulling into the station and a younger woman hell bent on getting that train just stepped over my purse and I took a moment to compose myself and thankfully someone else stopped to pick it up for me.

Catching train

I missed the train, but seriously, catching the train without my purse was not going to get me far.

Today, while in the city heading to my new Real Estate agent, I had gotten off the tram one stop too far and had further to walk, as I was walking up the street, a guy stopped to ask if I was lost or knew where I was going? I would have managed with some trouble, but I gratefully accepted his assistance.

Are you lost

He quickly did a Google search and told me it was another half a block. He suggested it was another half kilometre and asked if I could make it. I told him I would be fine. He had a bag of bananas and offered me one. It was very nice of him, but I turned him down. But it kinda made my day.

Getting directions

Today’s Lunch – 29th August 2018

Published August 29, 2018 by helentastic67

Todays Lunch

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

First, I must share my adventures of yesterday. That being Tuesday. I went on a trip down memory lane! I went “South-aside!” That will mean much more when I get around to writing my post on basic 101 of Melbourne and many, many months before my posts catch up on the backlog I’ve already written. However, in short, I went to a part of Melbourne where I thrived back in my 20’s in Prahran and South Yarra! (Pronounced Prah-Ran! And South-Yarrah) Good times for sure! Chapel street once a thriving cultural shopping hub is now rather lacking and my friend Susanne and I went on a mission to A) Relive my memories. B) find me a new streetwear bag and without meaning to. C) unravel the mystery of why Chapel Street has died? (Many shops are vacant)

Adventure

Let me say, tick, tick and tick! Mission accomplished.

A. So many shops no longer exist! Sad face. One shop does still exist and when I walked in I was greeted by a very familiar face, bearded now and rather grey, he said he had only recently been thinking of me. It was Jeremy from Shag! (Not kidding!) the Windsor end of Chapel street became cool around the time Grant and Jeremy opened their pilot ship store back in the mid-90’s and I lived very close so often just after closing I would return and go upstairs where they lived at the time and Grant previously a hairdresser would do my plaits in the style I often wore in clubs and on one occasion a serious bee-hive! Also, around this time I decided only gay hairdressers should do my hair! Going to return to this methodology later this year. Attempted with Jeremy to give him the cliff-notes (short version) of what’s happened to Helen’s arm? Sorry, there is no short version.

Beehive do

B. Got my new bag in the last shop we went into and only $20. Done! (False alarm, the shoulder strap is not nearly long enough! Crap!)

New bag

C. We decided with the gentrification of the area and the obvious older population dying off, or selling up and moving on, a new generation has moved in. Apartments have gone up everywhere! I found the 90’s living in that area, the clubs, the street culture, the music scenes and perhaps the lack of the blond Kardashians, also the era where you would go out to dinner at one location and go to a club elsewhere, even a recovery somewhere else. Not even in the same area. Imagine being trapped in the one venue with the same people all night! This is the reality now with lock-out laws. Choose your own adventure gone to hell. In short, the yuppies moved in. Then complained when in the morning they would find someone had vomited in their doorstep and defecated! They would bitch/whinge and moan about it and the things that made the neighbourhood cool would disappear when rent would price the cool people out of the market! Hello, I’ve got my hand up! Lesson Number 1! If an area is really cool don’t live there! Go socialise there, party there. Then fuck off back to the suburbs whence you came.! Problem solved!

Yuppies

Anyway, eventually settled on a location for lunch and had great gnocchi with something-something beef and mushroom ragout, with shaved Parmesan. I know, I forgot, so no picture, instead here’s a beautiful picture of my fur-baby Mika!

Mika

D. (There is now a D) I did 8,000+ steps! Just to remind you a normal person should do 10,000 steps a day. So, having a disability and mostly I don’t get anywhere near that. Smashed it! And back in the 90’s I would have done more than that every Tuesday as it was the day I did my rounds on Chapel Street and Grenville Street, back in the day.

8000 steps

Tell me if you liked this extra little bit about what I like to call, Original Helen? Life from a lifetime ago. Before what life is like now.

So, while this has not even my normal offering on a Wednesday, it was a bit more into the life and times of Hellonwheels and definitely good for my mental health!

So, Today’s offering, a nice Moroccan chicken salad with turmeric and a little sweet treat called the Montague and Capulet plus my medicine!

Morrocan Chicken

Montague and Capulet

Latte

Cheers,
H

Hump day

Email Madness

Published August 27, 2018 by helentastic67

Email madness

Email Madness

There are many problems with being part of ABI groups for your social/advocacy/empowering blah de blah, or any disability group maybe.

ABI Groups

I’m really loathe to do the “Reply-all” option on emails. I avoid it at all costs. Because sooner or later one complete fuckwit does “Replay-all” and I get an email saying this – “That’s such a cool font. What is it?”

reply-all-fart

And I have to take a deep breath when I’m thinking “Why do I need to know that? C’mon!”

Sometimes, these are the problems that seem first world problems, but for me with my high functioning ABI, I can’t help it.

First world problem

Delete, move on.

Delete and Move on

TMI – Too Much Information

Published August 24, 2018 by helentastic67

TooMuchInformation

TMI

There are many times when discussing having a disability that in my last relationship, a relationship I started after my diagnosis and had no idea what life would bring, but before my actual treatment and disability, I had moments I had to suggest to him (he that is not part of my life anymore) where I may have disclosed a little too much to him and he couldn’t cope.

Oversharing

So, humorously I had suggested if I told him a little too much at times, we could have a ‘safe-word’, so he could quickly and politely let me know to stop talking.

Safe word

I’ll say, he never used, said safe word, but as it already mentioned “no longer part of my life”. So, humorously our safe word was “Sprinkles”.

Sprinkles

Whose Job Is It?

Published August 20, 2018 by helentastic67

Whose job is it

Whose Job Is It?

“How is it my fault, I’m smart enough to know they are doing a shitty job for me and if I’m smart enough to know, what about those who are not smart enough to know.”

Smart enough

I’m currently experiencing something where (because I don’t have a name for it) I’m being under valued by family and thrown under the bus as having a ‘brain injury,’ my intelligence is being dulled so, I seem to need more help than maybe I really do.

Undervalued

Then it opens the door to people thinking they can perform at a sub-par or standard level and half doing a job. Am I meant to apologise or monitor my frustration or bad behaviour, just because I may make them feel guilty or incompetent?

Feel guilty

I hate to say I told you so, but when I push so hard to get ahead of certain issues, there is a reason. When the fit hits the shan (you heard me) it’s then your mess, not mine to fix it and you must give it as much energy and time that it requires.

Fit hit the Shan

No excuses from having put it off for weeks as other ‘things’ seemed more important. Don’t all of a sudden complain to me when I need to rebel and spend money on things that are important to me, so I can feel better.

Spend Money

I seem to be the only person who is abundantly aware all of my family would see me homeless, then help me financially or offer me a place to stay despite how ridiculous or unrealistic that would be.

Homeless

I feel sick to my stomach that my family cannot put all of their own ‘stuff’ aside.

Put stuff aside

Because Life is Short

Published August 17, 2018 by helentastic67

Life is too short

Because Life is Short

Because life is short, we should sometimes write about the little things that amuse us, that might amuse others. Rather than doom and gloom all the time.

No doom or gloom

So, this week I have been introduced to a new term for when a woman has her period.

I like the IT Crowd reference to Aunt Irma. If you are not familiar with the show, you just got homework. Wonder if my male followers read to this point.

Aunt Irma

The term I’ve been introduced to this week is called “Shark Week” I mean, on this topic in general, men can be such bastards. Oh, they think we blame everything on our periods, but if they had crazy hormones once a month and had just one full on menstrual cycle, they would bite their tongue and be much more considerate.

Crazy Hormones

Where was I? The other name I’ve heard, this one Oprah uses, “You Know where Aunt Flo visits.” Oh Oprah, so love her… Then theirs “I’ve got the Decorators in.” What? That person also explained ‘You know the painters?’

Oprah painting

What term do you use?

Tell me

Today’s Lunch – 15th August 2018

Published August 15, 2018 by helentastic67

Todays Lunch

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

Have had a crazy week so far so really glad to have only lunch and my stabby appointments now on Wednesday.

Crazy Week

Have no idea how I’ve made it home the last two days! No idea, have walked and walked and carried (learnt nothing from my Milk post obviously!) so much! Got home Tuesday and weighed my bag before unpacking it. 5 kilos’! Unpacked it and it was still 2!

Walking

Friday is looking to be a crazy day, with an extra appointment with my guy who made my AFO, my GP and the chiropractor and that’s on top of the normal grocery shopping and my only food prep appointment for the week.

Friday

I’m exhausted and it’s only Tuesday night when I do my prep-work on this post. Is this week over yet? I am always surprised that people have no idea how knackered I am once home. People must see me and assume I’m energetic all the time because that’s probably how they see me when I’m out. They have no idea I got home Monday on a whiff of determination that I had to get home.

Knackered

I even went upstairs to unpack my bag from my adventures in the city, then went back down to go to the local supermarket just to get milk and kitchen-tidy bags as I wouldn’t make it to Friday. I avoided what I call “Danger Alley!” So, or to buy unnecessary items and you pick which supermarket I live way too close to? It’s the one with all the weird stuff you wouldn’t find in the one place in any other country other than Germany? (Hint! Hint!) still ended up getting about 5 things!

Aldi

Oh, here’s a nice Lebanese pizza I had last week. Close to home. Can’t tell you how confused the girl was when I ordered Vegetarian but asked they put salami on it! What? (Handy Hint!)

Lebanese Pizza

And today’s offering? Because it looked too big to eat I ordered half a Mediterranean focaccia. So, yummy bitter green olives, eggplant, feta and zucchini. With my standard medicine.

Pannini Latte

Then because I decided I could eat more, this naughty little chocolate tart!

Chocolate Pudding

I stayed close to home before my stabby appointment as I didn’t have the luxury of seeing Young John. But will make up for it by walking home.

Walking home

Also, a picture of Mika my new fur-baby. Just proof she has settled in even sleeping snuggled against my legs overnight telling me she trusts me. Yeah, that’s the sign. For those who don’t speak Cat!

Mika

Cheers,
H

Have a great week

Milk

Published August 13, 2018 by helentastic67

Milk

MILK – for want of a better tittle.

Have you ever wondered about the cost of milk? Often there are lots of hidden issues with having a disability that the average person wouldn’t consider. Now, it’s going to annoy me to explain the intricacies on this very simple topic, but I’m by all means not crying over spilt milk.

Spilt milk

I shop with a carer every Friday, they collect me from home and drive us to my local shopping complex. It’s not a huge Westfield, so thankfully has the basics of what I need. Butcher, baker, candlestick maker. Supermarket, you know.

Shopping list

Whatever, foodwise I’m going to need I must get or I run out, paying more for it at a smaller independent supermarket, carrying it around for a period of time or risking it spoiling because it’s out of a fridge for too long, like milk.

Shopping list

About once monthly I buy an extra litre of milk, so I don’t run the risk of having to resort to using sweetened Condensed milk in my coffee. Year, nice but that’s diabetics right there.

Condensed Milk

The following Friday arrives and I check the fridge for my supply of milk. Sometimes I’ve still got an unopened bottle. The Use by date is the following day, now being unopened, it’s possibly going to last beyond the Use by date, but can I be sure.

Check fridge 1

Lately, I’ve been joking if I eat something I’ve had in the fridge a little too long and I ask if the worst that happens is I spend the night on the toilet and loose five kilos, that’s a lazy diet right.

Getting sick

So, I throw out the milk, which is wasteful and go shopping and get more. Maybe the guilt plays on my mind so I under stock milk and the next week, I ration a bit.

Ration milk

By Wednesday during my busy punchy/stabby/foodie , mental health post day, I need to debate picking up milk in my travels. I am near two independent supermarkets, one of which I walk past later in the day.

If I get one at either of the independent supermarkets, they cost more than a coffee. Outrageous. Aside from the risk of how long the milk should be out of the fridge.

More than coffee

Fun Fact: – Did you know, every degree milk loses (after coming out of the fridge) it loses a day of its shelf life.

Fun fact

The other issue is of course, how I need to carry the milk. I wear a bag that has a strap, which sits on my left shoulder and the bags sits on my right glute. My Gluteus Maximus.

Gluteous Maximus

Despite disc bulge surgery, my lower back is always at risk when carrying anything home, no matter the length of time I carry it.

My lower back twinges and when I get pain down the back of my good leg, it’s a sure sign any heavy lifting or excess carrying of heavy things is temporarily banned.

Lower back pain

So, while to the outside world I’m portrayed or seen as this confident, flexible and mobile semi-broken woman (my term), underneath the cost of a simple litre of milk is either my pocket or my back.

Strong Independent Woman