Chronic Pain
Remember when this
Remember when our grandparents had these and we thought it was a sign of being old?
OK, I’m going to be blunt
WTF happened?
Since when was 40 old?
Life one Handed
All posts tagged Life one Handed
Today’s Lunch 6th September 2018
Published September 6, 2018 by helentastic67
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)
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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
While I can already predict next week will be chaos, hopefully I’ll get back to my regular haunt to see familiar faces.
Cheers,
H
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.
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
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.
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”.
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.
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!”
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
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.
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.
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.
Helen, can I help you get to the toilet?
Helen do you need me to wipe your bum for you?
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.
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.
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.
Today’s Lunch – 29th August 2018
Published August 29, 2018 by helentastic67
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)
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.
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!)
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!
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!
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.
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!
Cheers,
H
Email Madness
Published August 27, 2018 by helentastic67
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.
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?”
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.
Delete, move on.
TMI – Too Much Information
Published August 24, 2018 by helentastic67
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.
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.
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”.
Today’s Lunch – 22 August 2018
Published August 22, 2018 by helentastic67
Today’s Lunch
Good Mental Health Day
Another busy week, and struggling to get used to the new Wednesday schedule. It’s my official Punchy/Stabby day! Ow, it’s my lazy/I might get to my favourite cafe where they all know my name (no, it’s not called Cheers) and otherwise, sneak in lunch at my more local cafe near where I get stabbed!
Mika has settled in, sleeping on the bed with me. I am gradually translating her different meows and noises. All I can tell is she seems to be calling me to go to bed in the same way Jamima my last fur-baby used to come out to the lounge room late with sleepy-squinty eyes with a meow that asked where I was and when was I coming to bed? She had generally been there sleeping for hours and my bedtime is so far past the normal bedtime……..
Also, in the last week my lovely administrator has been responsible for Hellonwheels having a Fanpage https://www.facebook.com/pg/hellonwheelslifeonehanded My goal there is not to bombard you with my fun and very cute cat/dog/bird everything posts but to have the opportunity to chat and be in contact with anyone that chooses to reach out. I hope to share some useful tips on how to survive one-handed, without losing one’s independence.
So, today’s offering, Ortolani quiche with the side salad and my medicine!
Now, off to get stabbed! No rest for the wicked!
Cheers,
H
Whose Job Is It?
Published August 20, 2018 by helentastic67
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.”
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.
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?
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.
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.
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.
I feel sick to my stomach that my family cannot put all of their own ‘stuff’ aside.
Because Life is Short
Published August 17, 2018 by helentastic67
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.
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.
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.
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?’
What term do you use?
Hell onWheels/Life One Handed 