Grief/Acceptance

Published January 12, 2017 by helentastic67

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Grief/Acceptance

The hardest things to accept are the things we can’t explain. Death is something I make some dark jokes about as I’m often around people who don’t accept that it’s a natural part of life. Here’s a brief explanation on Life and Death.

Birth Life Death

All the shit in-between we make up as we

We go and it’s what we make of it!

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But the ending is going to happen at some point, no matter what we want or how much we plan. It’s unavoidable.

People we love will die! They just leave us! People we have never met or would meet will die! It’s what we do while we’re here that makes the difference in the bigger scheme of things.

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To be blunt; The less time we have to prepare for someone’s passing, makes it harder to grieve.

Someone dying unexpectedly or by accident or before they get “old” (not young) makes it more challenging to deal with.

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I’m sure I’m not done on this topic.

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Competition – WTF

Published January 9, 2017 by helentastic67

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Competition – WTF

I don’t know what it is with some people and their Brain Injuries. They get very competitive.

“MY BRAIN INJURY IS WORSE THAN YOURS!”

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And I’m here to stay….. YES IT IS!

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Being part of a community of people with Brain Injuries and the community mentality that we can all be grouped together (socially and otherwise) means everyone thinks their Brain Injury is worse than the next person.

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No one seems to have any appreciation for how the next person’s situation is completely different to everyone else.

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I find it very frustrating that people are actually competing about who is getting the NDIS first. Let me tell you, the pilot regions got it first and in the scheme of things “took one for the Team” and ironed out all the kinks. (well most of them).

Ironing out the kinks.

I live in one of the 4 council districts in North/East Melbourne that are getting it on July 1^st 2016,

I have a friend (loose term) who loves to tell me he’s getting it before me!

Um! Let’s call him Fred! And remember, his name is not Fred and I really hope I don’t meet a Fred, be or have a Fred follow my blog because then I’ll be in trouble!

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So, let me give you some background re-Fred. He owns his own home, he has family close by who include him in their lives, he can work and study.

He most importantly has a package (ISP Individual Support Package) which pays for carers, he chooses NOT to use because he finds them inconvenient and uses the funds for other purposes.

I know people who have TAC funding. (Funded because of car accident) who won their own home. Some are happy to brag about how poor they are while they have an excess. Some who have their own home because of TAC who are quiet and humble and very kind.

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To be clear, TAC funding and people on Workcover because they were injured on the way to work, there supports will end when the NDIS takes over.

Some people with TAC funding are getting on board to find out what to expect.

Others I’ve tried to tell them they need to catch up and learn about the NDIS because it will affect them. They are burying their heads in the sand.

Sink or swim right.

You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make them drink it.

But in the meantime, let’s be a bit nicer to each other.

It that too much to ask?

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The Look

Published January 6, 2017 by helentastic67

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The Look

I get some really odd ‘looks’ from people when I’m out and about. Today I got that disgusted look from a “young” lady who seemed to think (from the expression on her face) I was somehow a representation of something or one she would never be.

Maybe I’ve gotten old, but I find the attitude of this young snot to be a complete opposite of what I had at that age.

I think I was open, happy, respectful towards others and myself. So really didn’t much appreciate her grumpy attitude, I chose to ignore her.

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I otherwise find when I walk past people in the street, they look away when we are close and passing. When I make the conscious effort, always to make eye contact. I always like to catch their eye, smile and acknowledge people no matter where I am.

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I don’t need to stop and have a conversation, I just like to think life could be a little better if we could connect, even in this tiny, minuscule way.

I also think it’s respectful.

Is this wrong to think like this?

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Handy Hints #467

Published January 2, 2017 by helentastic67

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Handy Hints #467

I don’t know how many handy hits I’ve had so far, but it’s definitely not 467. This advice I was given from a Naturopath friend who is now retired. She also had a lifetime of wisdom as a Nurse. Her advice was this;

You may not realise your biggest organ is your skin! And if you are sick with a cold you might consider putting garlic inside your sock’s. Your soles of your feet will absorb the garlic and you will breath garlic very soon, enough to keep away Vampires!

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Pop Quiz!

Who knows what your biggest organ is?

If you answered “Your skin!” you would be correct. I ask my carers the first time they have a shift with me as part of their induction.

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Most people might be familiar with Arnica being used for bruises. I use it for brain swelling.

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Arnica is really good for bruises. Helps draw them out so they can get better and go away quicker.

But you can really slather your head with it, it’s easier to put some on the “soft spots” of your body because they absorb quicker.

The soft spots are as follow’s

The inside of your elbow.
The inside of your thigh.
The underside of your belly. (About 3 inches below your belly button (just guessing).
The underside of your breasts (Ladies)

My carers do the cream inside my elbow. Specialists cleared me of brain swelling years ago, however a little dab every day can’t hurt and I really notice the difference when I do too much, stress too much and the pressure behind my eyes builds, every bit helps.

Arnica can be bought from Health Food Shops and I think it’s a staple for every bathroom.

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Life – Part 2

Published December 30, 2016 by helentastic67

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Life

“If you are not living you’re just waiting to die!”

I’ve been questioning this lately because when I was younger I imagined life meant work, family and eventually “green pastures”. Meaning a comfortable retirement eventually after a sufficiently lengthy work life!

I’m pretty certain having children is never going to happen from this body. While not menopausal, I’ve done my time changing nappies for 2 younger sisters cured me of needing to make up for it now.

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I’m not apologetic to say that when I’m out shopping or in Cafes and I hear a baby cry or screech. It’s the sound of my ovaries drying up! I’m certain my body would struggle with caring for a baby, my back certainly would not cope. A second disc bulge, while pregnant? Pass! Hell NO!

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Marriage is an endless possibility, so yet to rule that out. I’ve always wanted a man who was more interested in my mind than my body and let’s face it, the last 8 years haven’t been kind to my body. Now I just hope life isn’t so cruel, that I meet the man of my dreams and he’s a Neurosurgeon.

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Wouldn’t that be ironic…

Because we all know surgeons are “cutters”. Cutters like to cut!

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No-one’s cutting into my brain until I’m no longer using it! All the careers I’ve had I can no longer do. Organisations love my knowledge and experiences, but no one wants to pay for this wisdom I have. They all expect I’ll impart this wisdom for free, because I’ve seen as some scourge on the community and it’s how I can give back to the community.

So while I’m not ready to give up and die, I don’t know what I’m living for. Does that make sense? I’m working that out!

Reassessing…

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The Good, The Bad

Published December 26, 2016 by helentastic67

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The Good/The Bad

There is a children’s book I recall reading as a child. I can’t at all remember what it was called but the story line and message stuck with me. It is literally a story about a little boy who gets into an aeroplane and flies up into the sky, then the aeroplane runs out of fuel. He flies it upside down and he falls out. And he falls out of the aeroplane and he falls in the direction of a haystack. But the haystack has a pitchfork sticking up in it. But it’s OK because he misses the pitchfork, but he misses the haystack also. But it’s all okay! Because he lands in a pond.

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The message is obviously to teach the young impressionable minded reader that life is good and bad in equal measures.

Sometimes, it feels like only bad things happen and not enough good. In recent years, I’ve developed a disability, on the upside, I’ve maintained my ability to speak for myself (when people listen) and I can manage my own finances. I might not be rich, but I’m not starving and I’ve kept a roof over my head.

Sometimes, the good isn’t completely blow you away, amazing it’s little things. But those little things all add up to.

Here are a few good things;

Winter in my house is a little brutal, however I can keep the butter on the bench and it doesn’t melt or go mouldy.
I am not reliant on a man in my life! I might be single however, I’m not bad at being single. I can survive without a male presence in my life.

ONWARDS…

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Winter Part 2

Published December 23, 2016 by helentastic67

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Winter Part 2

When Winter hit’s I’m always reminded of going clubbing during Winter. The 3-5 nights a week of clubbing has finally caught up with me!

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Those nights of walking up a narrow street in the city to one club where the buildings towered either side of us and acted like a wind tunnel blowing right through whatever you were wearing.

Usually a cute little Dotty dress, layers of tights covered by a long black leather jacket. My friend and I would catch our breath at a particularly cool gust of wind and convince ourselves once we were inside it would be better.

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Once inside we had the opposite problem, Jackets safely kept on the top floor with our favourite DJ in the booth.

I will leak some tidbits about my club days in time, but I find it ironic that these day’s I think it’s been 2 or 3 years since I last ventured out to a club. It was the 23^rd reunion of the first club I ever worked at. It was Spring and some people I hadn’t seen for all of the years since. These days, as of making up for a miss-spent ‘youth’, I spend every night on my couch alone, eating my dinner and watching TV. Alone, weird how life is right?

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Winter Part 1

Published December 19, 2016 by helentastic67

winter-1 Winter!

It’s the second day of Winter in Melbourne. (Although by the time you read this, I don’t know. I’ve just sent another batch of post to my Administrator). And I don’t know what it is but the last few years Winter has taken me a little by surprise. I seem despite no longer being a size-skinny, I really feel the cold.

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The first Winter after my “Stroke” (Stroke, but not a stroke!) I need to give up my flannelette sheets. I wear flannel pj’s in Winter and bedsox’s and flannel on flannel when trying to rollover when ½ your body doesn’t comply is like Velcro. I’d roll to my right and the top sheet would follow leaving my back to get cold.

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I moved to my current home, a spacious unit 3 ½ years ago and the first Winter I rolled the radiator heater into my bedroom and switched it on.

I convinced myself I would only have it on at night! Then, I told myself I would only have it on, on weekends! Then, I got my next power bill!

Nearly died! Took that heater, unplugged it and rolled it back into the spare room. Haven’t used it since.

I saw an elderly gentleman on A Current Affairs program a few years ago discussing how hard it was to live on a pension. I quote him when I say “It’s heat or eat”.

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It’s a horrible thought that I can’t afford to do both. I really can’t do eating disorders as food inspires me and gives me great joy to shop (Ouch $$$$) and even more to send out my texts to have people come collect my ‘treats’.

But it would seem I can’t afford to heat either.

To be completely clear, I don’t cope in Summer either! 25 Degrees C is my limit! 40 Degrees C means I stay in the lounge with the air con on! I have just officially become an old person.

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Life

Published December 16, 2016 by helentastic67

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Life!

So, it occurs to me that while I often have a humorous bent and way to write about things, I often write when I’m in the mood to write.

Right now, I definitely don’t much care to write. I feel on top of the usual “seedy” and left eye barely able to see, my stomach is really not helping.

So, it’s probably, with all the thoughts buzzing in my mind the most perfect time to vent my thoughts.

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Last Friday, I received some good news. I won my 2^nd appeal to Stupidlink (my friends G-rated term for Australia’s Government Pension Provider) for a debt and it looked like I wouldn’t have to pay it back for the next 25 God damned years of my life.

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I know, I hear you saying ‘Get a Goddamned job Cow!’ But it’s not that easy.

Keeping in mind, I have this ‘debt’ because I earn a small pension from my Superfund because my disability is permanent life-long injury and I’m unable to go back to work.

Part of the debt was forgiven due to Stupidlink losing my forms when I declared them, 5 years ago!

And for the last 5 years this ‘extra income’ has allowed me to afford (what I now term as simple luxuries) paying my rent on time.

Keeping the lights on.

Living alone because housemates like to free load, because they think I’ve got a sweet life and they want to hitch a ride.

No seriously, as fucked up as that sounds, it happened!

Apparently eating, I thought I’d be able to keep doing that!

And over weekend I took a deep sigh of relief that for once the Universe was looking after me and I could afford to continue/or return to be able to do all of the above.

Today, I received a letter. I decided to do call straight away to follow it up! The letter was to prompt me to do just that in the hope that I had miraculously come into some income or wealth where I could start repaying more of the debt every fortnight.

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot – I hear myself say?

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Um, I mention the letter I received only last Friday (today is Monday), that said debt had been waivered!

There was no note of it on the system and apparently after a call to the appropriate people came back with the information that they have until the 31^st May to appeal the decision and it looks like they will do that!

More questioning on my part and it looks like I have to cry ‘poor’ in another round!

So, feeling overwhelmingly tired and sick to my stomach, I did what I always do when life gets stressful.

I went to bed!

I woke hours later not feeling much better and questioning how I can live on less, what decisions I am supposed to make to make the Government able to cripple me a little more.

Let’s see;

Do I give up my Friday Custard Scroll? That’s $3.30

I really can only tell the week is over when I wrap the week with a coffee and Custard Scroll on Friday afternoon.

That will take a long time at $3.30 per week.

I guess I can live without those things, but they are literally the only nice things I get/do each week to make life in some way more livable.

I’ll just say, it makes me happy!

Is it too much to ask to be a little happy?

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Rant

Published December 12, 2016 by helentastic67

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Rant!

OK, I need to rant! Here are some classic examples of what totally shits me about Public Housing.

I don’t have it! To be fair I don’t want it! But I need it.
There are young perfectly able bodied people who could work, but don’t and they only pay A$80.00 per week. Government Housing is calculated by your income. It’s generally only 26%.

About 5 years ago, I lived opposite some Public Housing, it was only a two story building and all flats. Very 60’s and on some nights the residents provided some light entertainment and other times not so.

Here are some examples;

There was this lovely 70-year-old Chinese lady who I used to donate my compost bin to (not a very good compost bin, but all organic and very smelly all the same) and that woman had the energy of a 50-year old. Every year when the pot she gave me ‘flowers’. I think fondly of her.

Then there was the ‘other’ Chinese lady who at one point I think her daughter stayed with her. She had a red Carerra Porsche. But one morning there was a loud noise and when I went outside I saw a tow truck loading said Carerra onto it and departing. I imagine it was repossessed.

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Then there was an enviable vegie patch in the front single dad had planted. I also gave him some of the compost.

Then there was the night when I could hear a woman’s voice calling out over the upstairs balcony “Help! Please somebody!” Over and over again!

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After a short time and peeking through the blinds of the front bedroom. I lived in a single story terrace back then. I found a woman on the top floor balcony calling out while someone else was attempting to ‘move them out like Rock-stars!’ (that’s when you just throw everything out over the balcony)

I rang the Police! The woman’s cries for rescue took some time to abate.

When I rang the Police, I couldn’t give the exact address for across the street so I gave mine with the

express instructions not to knock on my door.

I had only just moved in and didn’t want to make enemies, but also didn’t want anyone to suffer abuse.

Disaster! The Police put a spotlight on the front of my home and a Policeman came to my door! WFT! Subtle? Epic fail.

I had also just had my treatment and I went to the door with NO HAIR! Very self-conscious, I peeked around from behind the door. Mr Plod’s clearly thought I was timid and hiding. Mr Plod’s clearly had sent Mrs Plod’s up to deal with the domestic.

I know my first comment is not supported by the rest of my points however, as you can imagine this subject is never closed. Next!

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