Dirty Old Lady
A month ago, I realised I was a dirty old lady as the title suggest. I don’t know how this happened, but it was when I was watching a film. There was a scene where the male and female “leads” were together – Hello!
And she said to him “What is your tattoo of?”
I sat in my lounge on the couch and spoke to the room.
“Please God! Have to take something off!”
And off came the t-shirt!
So, either I’m a dirty old lady or I’m clairvoyant…
Administrator!
So, sometimes I want to post a blog, just so I can tell people of my accomplishments. And I can but by the time you hear about them a month or more would have come to pass, but it’s the perfect Segway to me telling you about my process and intern my wonderful administrator.
My process starts with me trying to practice “mindfulness”.
Sometimes I’m waiting for the right thing to happen to trigger a post coming together, just right in my mind. I like to write with pen and paper. Old school.
Then, because of my many issues or deficits, whatever I have been stuck with that for about 5 years that I’ve been planning this blog and talking about it.
And I guess it’s taken a while for a few things to fall into place. Admittedly I was slow to get on the Social Media thing, and a bit longer to be introduced to the right person.
And that is how I met my Administrator!
She is my wizard who made my blog become a reality. More of this hero in a moment, but first I write long hand, copy and post about once a month. So far (Scanned once and emailed) and send to someone in Sydney who types my blog posts up, emails to me for final editing and then after she does some final searching for pictures and some networking “she posts”.
And she be my friend Noelle. And I’m not sure how much I’m allowed to tell you about her, so will pause here…..
Sometimes, I want to brag about the things I’ve just achieved, one-handed, but now there is no time.
I often debrief via text to check in with him.
Sometimes they go something like this;
“Had Chiro and Acupuncture today. And if I had a husband I’d be all over that as well!”
Over time I will tell you of my friends. I hope you will understand more about me and what I value by the friends I keep.
Also don’t be confused by the dates on my posts. I am a prolific writer and have been preparing and writing for this blog for years, so at times I will pull something out of my archives.
If and when I do it will be because it’s still current.
Or I’m still really angry about it….
The Horrors!!!
It’s Friday! Yeah!!!
In my house it means, wash my hair (it’s all grown back now!) and go out with my Young Janice and we go shopping.
So I took down my hair while my Personal Care (PC) carer started her chores and got undressed. Turned on the hot water and…….
NO HOT WATER!!!!
I had a day off yesterday. As in no appointments so no need to leave the house. I had lots of laundry to do so I did 4 loads.
I had notice my hot water service in the backyard had been leaking (from the top) and it seemed to get worse as the day went on.
I had finally sent a text to a friend to rate how bad this was from bad to worse?
The suggested broken thermostat, maybe. Which sounds not as bad (expensive) as having to convince my Property Manger it’s my God given right to have hot water and his job to take a yelling from my landlord if that’s what it took to have them part with the money.
I have those landlords who don’t want to maintain their properties, just want the money.
So, today my hair did not get washed and I had a bucket of water from the kettle and half shower.
Now, it’s the end of the day and a tradie ended up coming and he stated the Hot Water Service was Ka-put!
Glad he has to call my Property Manager, not me…
And the plumber is prepared to work on a Saturday morning because a weekend without a hot shower would just be a horror!
What is the game?
My favourite housemate ever and I used to have a game we used to love to play. Firstly, when I say ‘game’ don’t the wrong idea. And when I say ‘we’ loved to play, I mean I loved it and he dreaded it!
To give you some background this housemate, let’s call him “B”, and was very relaxed. He was a roadie and I considered him a pothead. He didn’t, but he smoked a spliff or 2 every night, but what do I know? I don’t smoke.
Ok, that’s the background out of the way.
Here’s how the game works. I would start at one end of the mantel piece in the lounge and touch a finger to the first ‘thing’ asking “What’s this and does it need to be here?”
“B” would pick up “this” item and we continued. Halfway along the mantle piece he would get ahead of me and remove all the things he knew didn’t belong there.
By the end of the game all that was left were the clean plates that sat in the middle and the Kuan Yin head.
My home is not always spotless, but I try to have a ‘home’ for everything. A tidy house is a tidy mind. I generally limit the amount of time I spend in environments that make me want to blow my brains out.
I can’t help trying to problem-solve and neaten things, because it gives me a migraine very easily.
More about my favourite housemate ever “B” another time.
The Worst!
Think I worked it out!
Haven’t ‘unpacked’ my whole story for you yet, but people often need to compete “my disability is worse than yours……”
I may have mentioned or not, but I always say, all disabilities SUCK!
Just in different ways. And it’s not a competition, but today I found a young lady on the tram in “my seat” and she had a black Labrador tucked in between her legs.
So, the answer is ….. The worst disability is sitting opposite said cute black lab and knowing I can’t pat it!
If you don’t know, the rule is, if a guide dog has it collar on – it’s working and shouldn’t be touched.
And it’s the worst because they are so cute and I just want to hug them and squeeze them and love them!
And I’m a cat-person…
The end…
Christmas!!!
So our Christmas lights have several settings. My sister the lighting tech support recently described one of the settings as the Epileptic Fit Setting.
I’m really lucky I’ve NEVER had an Epileptic fit!
At least not a Clonic Tonic (Grand Mal) seizure.
I have things that give me a migraine, but no epilepsy. Not complaining……just saying.
I once had an appointment with a room full of Neuro type specialists and they couldn’t believe I’d never had a fit considering the size and location of my AVM.
I told the Doctors I had been to my share of dubs and dance parties back in the day and stared at enough strobe lights.
Consider this as a silver lining.
I’ve never had an epileptic fit!
Once upon a time our family had a cat which had kittens. There was a Ginger cat which was called “Ginger Biscuit”. It very briefly had a rather wry misname of ‘Crumb’ when Mum baked out of the drive way and it didn’t get out of the way. It sustained a broken leg and after a very expensive trip to the vets, came home with a metal rod in its leg. He survived to sun bath on our concrete for his vitamin D, but alas that’s just background. The temperament of this particular cat was really sweet. I once picked him up and sat with him on the couch. At the start he didn’t much go for my need to sit with him on the couch, so I had to hold him to my chest with both arms. Poor Biscuit didn’t have a chance really, however luckily within 2-4 minutes he was touched in and fast asleep purring…
There is something about having a disability and being taken away from your home where you can maintain some of your own independence that is like being held hostage.
When at home, I can pretty much fend for myself. I don’t leave the house every day of the week if I can help it and I prefer to have the help of a carer on the days I do leave the house, but when I’m out of my comfort zone I have to rely on the volunteer assistance from family or friends. I cannot do my own hair, trim my own fingernails or toenails or dry and dress in a timely manner and endeavour. Eventually, like Ginger Biscuit I just accept fate and take what I can get, make the most of it and go to sleep.
And this plays on the depression.
If you think it’s a 1st world problem that I can’t do my own mani/pedi, I should be so lucky! My nails are soft these days and bend back causing pain, my left toenails if too long get stubbed and badly damaged. My left fingernails get in the way when I’m trying to exercise that hand and keep my fingers flexible. So, yes? My fingernails are an issue. But if you want a stronger example: try this.
Met a woman from the Barwon District, who had come to tell us of her experiences of the NDIS being piloted in her region.
She was in a wheelchair and probably in her late 40’s – early 50’s. She had a package to provide her carers and as she needed a Carer to go from bed to her wheelchair where she spent her day and to a toilet and back to her chair or bed, you might like to imagine the timing of her carers could be rather critical.
She gave the example that one particular day, she couldn’t wait to go to the toilet and her carer was some hours away, so she rang her service providers to request her carer earlier.
They could not provide it to her.
As she sat in her chair on the stage, she told us she couldn’t wait and in the best of spirits announced to us that when her carer did arrive at the rostered time she would have more of a mess to clean up!
Now, I’ve had some “shitty days!” But she was so brave to announce it to us like that and can you imagine it’s a way some people get held hostage to a situation far from their control…
Social Isolation
Sometimes, I try to socially engage with people wherever I go. I do this at the places I go for appointments or the supermarket for groceries. No lifetime friendships, but connecting all the same because it’s how I encourage people to get to know me and see that I’m “Normal!”
At my local supermarket, my favourite checkout chicks have gotten to know me over the years. Even from before my disability.
On Friday, I encountered a newish guy in the Deli/Freezer area. He was restocking the dairy case with milk.
Now, for those who don’t know – Melbourne has had a heatwave the last few days and being in the freezer section of the supermarket is the place to be.
This is the perfect example of how I try to engage with people and retain my sass!
This guy was wearing a big jacket to wear into the cool room. I asked if that jacket was really necessary in this weather.
He tells me it’s for when he’s in the cool room.
I inquire, “What’s a girl gotta do to get in that cool room? He didn’t really reply.
I grabbed my cream and as I moved away I told him,
“I wasn’t trying to sexually harass him in the work place”
I saw he had a big grin on his face and I did a circular motion towards his smile and told him “I was going for that!”
Meet Jamima ‘Patch the Pirate Cat’ Puddleduck!
So called for my patchy left eye & my pen chance for sitting on shoulders(until Uncle B comes along, his shoulder h helps me get higher)
I’m the mental Healthcare Provider for a Crazy Cat-Lady. Housemates, boyfriends & even Uncle B have come & gone but my Mum keeps up with the Tuesday Tummy Rub’s!
Stay Tuned……….
There are many things I miss from the era before I developed my disability and I’m not referring to the stuff you would miss because you can no longer do them, because sooner or later you can’t go clubbing all night and not feel like crap the next day even if you don’t drink. That shit happens because you have gotten older and I miss feeling like a valued member of society. I miss intellectual conversations with people.
Once upon a time, I worked for an N.G.O. as I will have mentioned and a supervisor came to me with a problem. I gave him the answer, he didn’t want. That was “NO!” Then he had a follow up question to circumvent the first answer. To which he got a further answer of “Yes, but NO!” then for safe keeping I answered his next 4 questions; something like this “Yes, no, no, no, yes, no!” I know I could tell you the scenario to help you better understand and while it was 10 years ago, I no-longer recall the clients name but let’s call him Fred!(was definitely not Fred) but recall the situation perfectly, it’s not going to help you to bore you with all the details.
His response to my answers was “What was that for?” And I told him they were the answers to his next 4 questions because I knew exactly where he was going with his line of questioning. The moral of the story was Fred had been lax in starting his obligation. He could not come back as a new referral for the outstanding hours he had missed before his contract ended. He could come back for a whole new obligation before he would be eligible for the allocated funding to go toward studies & further training. Hope you can tell from this that I knew my stuff, despite the terminology I’ve just used. (Obligation/contract,etc)
I do miss those days. I miss having people respect my knowledge and think to ask me for my wisdom.
FYI: My mum hates it when I do this even though I think it slightly amuses her…That is to predict her questions and answer them before she has had a chance to ask.
Hell onWheels/Life One Handed 