There is a weird thing in disability circles, people join groups to find their tribe. You know, other people like themselves.
There is this thing about power in numbers, etc. But I wouldn’t want to be in a room with a heap of people with depression. What do they call that?
A goth club?
Never mind!
Those miserable looking goth kids, from the 90’s? Happiest kids you will have ever met. But, some people with disabilities or brain injury have a tendency to compete. No, really!
Oh, you think that’s bad?! I have this!
In reality, it all sucks. People will imagine their experience is something like what you can imagine or worse than you experience. I like to remind people there is always someone worse.
A guy was in a coma for I don’t know how long. No idea the cause of his ABI or how long he’d had it or anything. However, he seemed very happy and smiley despite his lack of ability to keep his sentences on track or contribute in a big way.
In his coma he was kept company by the radio. I do know, he came out of his coma to a song on the radio, “Stairway To Heaven” by Led Zeppelin.
I always love a reason to get out on hellonwheels, my name for my mobility scooter. It’s also a great way for me to connect with people and change people’s idea of what disability looks like.
The adventure on this particular day, was to get to a dental appointment. I wanted to park my scooter inside but not in the waiting area, in anyone’s way, there is a small vestibule with two automated doors to navigate. So, I got a spot I thought was out of the way. Then I stepped back to assess and then saw this, can you see what’s wrong with this picture?
I decided it was still the best place for it. I stopped to mention it to the Covid Nazi just inside the entrance. She was making sure to check everyone in, take temperatures and quiz everyone on the likelihood they could have Covid. Don’t take my Nazi comment the wrong way, it is what it is and I still have not returned from overseas since 1994. Stop asking! It’s really starting to grate.
Anyway, I digress, I mentioned my parking location and suggested if firemen were to attend, they could pick up my scooter to move it out of their way. She said she thought it would be fine but I had to correct myself. “If they are *Hot* Firemen. Come and get me and have them move me on the scooter out of the way” Yes! It’s inappropriate but who smiled while reading that? She smiled, I got to tell her about my blog and I like to think it made her day.
When Melbourne came out of Lockdown for the blink of an eye.
Today is a very special edition of HellOnWheels bought to you by the letters C & not for the obvious reason.
Today was the first day Melbourne was coming out of the harshest lock-down reported in the world. Today was the return of cafes being open and being able to dine in. During lockdown my Girl Wednesday/Friday and I have been doing Car Cafe sitting out the front of, wait for it. Introducing https://www.cavallini.com.au/
Finally, I’m telling you all where I go to eat and caffeine. Also, I write and where even during lock-down I would walk in and be greeted with a “Hi Helen. How are you?”
It’s even more special today, because, anyone want to see Bruce Willis with actual HAIR? You’re welcome!
Now, today’s special offering. I previously just called this the salted caramel, chocolate, chocolate thingy thing, but it’s actually called a Maltalbarno. This week I would arrange several coffee dates here with friends so I can share a slice of this over coffee to help me celebrate and to share the calories. Calorie’s shared is calories halved right?
I wish I could say I’ve been laying low during CoVid lockdown however; you can leave the house for several reasons. Number 1, Medical appointments and I have had plenty. Including a Brain-Scrape (yes, Covid test) I passed. So, I could go have my first Colonoscopy.
Yeah, cos I’m “that” age and because my father had bowel cancer before 60. He survived. Not complaining. But it means, fifteen years before the age he was diagnosed I needed to start getting tested. Super! I was a bit overdue, but I’m good. I passed too. I’m good for another five years.
Just enough time to forget how disgusting the nasty prep drink is. No really. It’s hideous! I will do a post to share my great jokes I gave them before my procedure and the challenge I set myself after the procedure.
I hope you are all staying safe and getting tested for CoVid and well I guess bowel cancer too.
I will also add I’ve seen my father three times this year, I didn’t even see him at Christmas. It’s normally the only time I do get to see him. But I only got to see him because he had a heart attack. For Christ’s sake! He drove himself to hospital (in the country) because, I’m told it’s a “Wog-Thing”! Don’t worry, the nurse gave him a talking too and open heart surgery and three months later he is finally “getting there” so despite the “Fit hitting the Shan” in 2020, we could be coming out of it. Optimism, right?
So, one of the amazing things about having carers is they bring with them stories and a sense of community. They share stories about their friends and other clients.
One of my carers has been dipping her foot back into dating and she quoted some male online dating guru, by stating, “women need to get rid of their lists!”
I’m sorry (a little defensive) what? Well, yeah that’s probably right.
So, she gave me her short list of three.
1. Nice person
2. Got their shit together
3. Nice d**k! (Hint, that word is not duck!)
I think this is fair. It’s three rather concise, necessary requirements.
So, sometimes I get lucky with the right kind of sass and I get to share. You’re welcome.
There are days I have plenty of sad topics to cover but I like to find a positive from a negative. Take my ex-boyfriend. No really, take him!
I will liken him to Wentworth Miller (actor). Are you familiar with him? I’ll help, Prison Break. Full body tattoos, yeah!!!! Deep breath and Gay. Yep, ladies can’t have him. He’s into guys, which is fine. I used to have a picture of him on a pinboard. C’mon, we all did. It’s nice to dream.
But gay? Gay! We’re fine. The other team scores another one but my ex, I digress, poster on my pinboard and my stepdaughter (yeah, it was brief, at the time I had a step-daughter.)
She asked her dad if the photo was of him? He looked at me and I smiled a little and shook my head. Now, I thought we had been together about four years, but apparently, we had not been. I guess because he sent mixed messages. I like provincial furniture and decorations. He suggested if I could save some money, we could have a trip to France.
Me, now? So, I can have another fucking holiday to the most romantic place in the world with a so-called boyfriend who didn’t have the same ideas for our relationship that I did. FUCK NO! Thank you.
Because we all need a bit if variety, and because sometimes we need a little light and shade. Do you remember jokes from your childhood that seem to have been lost?
This is maybe the first joke I remember as a kid in the 70’s in Australia. You are welcome.
There are two kids playing out in the street. Called Shut-Up and Trouble. They got separated and a policeman found one of them and asked him.
“What’s your name son?”
“Shut-Up!”
The policeman, thinking the kid was giving him some attitude repeated, “What’s your name son?”
“Shut-Up!”
The policeman, “You looking for trouble?”
Mmmmm…. Good times.
It’s a clean joke though, you have to admit it. I have not thought about this joke in years.
These days high density living in inner city Melbourne has become the norm just like everywhere else.
There are all kinds of short cuts developers take to get more levels in but at a cost to quality. I overhead a story recently while getting a treatment in Collingwood at my free clinic.
A patient (or client) in the next cubicle stated he had a friend who had paid $750,000 for an apartment in that area and when he heard the kettle in the kitchen next door to his place going off, he knew it was time to move further out. He’s lucky it was just the kettle.
Occasionally I will circle back to topics I’ve touched on before like apartment living. Yeah! That – and this is one of those.
As I currently live in a large apartment complex in an NRAS (National Rental Affordability Scheme) property. I rent, I do not own but, major issues still go to my property manager (she managed seven in this building) then go to the Body Corp. A faceless entity that do what exactly I can’t always tell.
After months and months of hearing all kinds of power tools coming from upstairs at all kinds of times during the day and onwards last night at 11pm, I heard the subtle pat of a mallet. Now, keep in mind as a carpenter’s daughter I can pick a drop saw which I’ve also heard but this was different and it was at a time when they damn well knew it was too late to be renovating.
Now, I think the tenants above me have had an equal passion for renovating as they do for an intense dislike of their bedhead, because they keep insisting on slamming it against the wall with annoying repetition at all-times.
So, I record the renovating sounds coming from upstairs, forwarded them on to my property manager, to highlight the poor timing of the work being done.
She has stated she has passed it onto the Body Corp. One of my neighbours is an Owner/Occupier and she has already fed the information to the Owner’s Corp. I’m not holding my breath. This seems to be how that works.
I think this gets filed under ‘people say the dumbest things.’ People often ask me about my falls? How often I fall? When was the last fall? When I fall, do I try to land on something soft?
What a stupid fucking question! Here are my priorities, when it comes to falls as anyone with a disability will tell you.
Don’t fall.
Don’t fall and break my one good arm.
Don’t fall and break anything, so I need a 24/7 carer, so they can toilet me. (Also, why I haven’t wanted to get Carpel Tunnel surgery yet!)
BUT LET ME (sorry, shouldn’t yell) assure you, when I fall, you don’t think, there is no plan. It is human nature to put out a hand to try to catch yourself.
This is why a lot of older people break their wrists. That (falls) and Osteoporosis.
However, the last time I had a fall and landed on something soft. I think I got up off my couch and my left foot was tangled in something (I couldn’t feel) and I went down like a sack of potatoes.
My arms were in front of my tummy and I landed on them n the ‘chaise’ part of my old couch. I hit that thing so hard with all of my weight, I bounced back upwards and landed on the carpet on my arse.
So, while not huge (my arse) I did get two soft landings.
So today I thought I’d give you some context for HellOnWheels, and why I blog.
After being part of a self-advocacy group for over 8 years, it would seem as different faces come and go, I still needed to explain to people who I am and what I’m on about.
And basically, why I deserve to have opinions so it would seem.
I asked and offered a blog post to contribute to a newsletter that has been rebooted by a lovely volunteer. So, I was surprised to find my blog contribution still not being included.
I had to ask numerous times. I do have a tendency to follow up and not let things go until I get answers. I think with kids it would be considered ‘pester power!’, but I am not a child nor do I want any.
I was told after someone read one of my posts that “Oh she’s got strong opinions.”
And that was why.
So, this is my explaining why I deserve to have the opinions I have.
Hell onWheels/Life One Handed 