The Things I Missed

Published December 16, 2024 by helentastic67

The Things I Missed

After the recent radio interview, I recalled other things that add to my disability, even I just take it on the chin and get up and keep going.

Shortly after my disability, I had a little fall at the front of my home. My left foot got caught behind the supporting post of the fence to the balcony of the front veranda of the terrace house. It was a ground floor only terrace before you get too excited. and when I fell, I hit my head against the brick wall, also hitting my left shoulder. When I fell, I hurt myself so much that I let out a mauling noise my mum heard from the lounge room, coming to my aid. She called out “what have you done now?” As she walked down the hallway, I levered myself up using the gate under my tummy to get my feet under me then stood up.

Across the road the friendly neighbourhood lookout was on his chair on his balcony. He looked poised to get up and come to my rescue. I waved him away that I was ok. My mum was only down at that time because I’d been in hospital having had my disc-bulge surgery. So, my shoulder has forever been dislocated, or Sub-Luxed. But not. Are you confused? Yeah, me too.

My shoulder is out more than not. If I’d hit my right shoulder, it would have been knocked out of its socket. It would have been put back in, had surgery, strapped up. It would have gotten better. But my left shoulder? It was pushed out of the socket, but the shoulder muscles stretched to move with the shoulder and because those muscles act like an old elastic band they stretched and the muscle tone no longer exists to hold the shoulder in place, if it was put back in.

Early days I went to emergency, I went to the counter and told the nurse behind the Perspex glass why I was there, I’m good at this stuff these days. FYI: Use all the trigger words. I’ve got an ABI and I was there this time for a dislocated shoulder. She turned towards the back of the staff area calling out “dislocated shoulder!”

It was rather amusing really; I was seen to eventually. Lots of “Does it hurt?” and surprised because it doesn’t but it could be on account of my complete left sided hemi. I have limited sensation on my left. Who knew that would come in handy? Fuck all that could be done. I was given a sling that barely seemed to fit and sent on my way. Basically, mum encouraged me to go see a shoulder surgeon.

I finally got to see the inside of a beautiful building in The Avenue in Windsor and he effectively started with “Now, what’s wrong with you?” and I asked him “How long have we got?”

He told me surgery wouldn’t help as I didn’t have the muscle tone to keep my shoulder in place and surgery would give me secondary problems across my back. When I’m out I wear my left arm in a sling called a Cuff and Collar, or a Collar and cuff. Physios all look to each other when I enter a physio/rehab clinic like who is going to explain to this one why we do not prescribe to wearing those, I remind them I’m carrying around dead weight that drags and pulls on all the muscles up to my neck, adding to my migraines and the added secondary problems I think I have already across my back. Seems I got those without surgery.

So, if you haven’t got it sussed already. Problems arise all the time you seek treatment, sometimes those issues are resolved, but there is always the potential of other undiagnosed problems you don’t yet know about and you are always needing to do the Pro’s versus Con’s game to work out if you fix the thing and hope there isn’t something else around the corner? Or can I live with this and for how long?

Ink Blot

Published April 11, 2022 by helentastic67

Ink Blot!

There are these posts that I put off writing because I never want someone who knows me in real life to look me in the eye and quote any part of it and while I could start this post different ways, here’s how it is.

You know those days a friend off loads all their shit and drama on you within five minutes of walking in the door? No? Just me then?

Well, I’m just warning people the next time this happens, I may cut them off with this. If you get through the day and you didn’t end up in your ensuite with your pants down around your ankles, your Thundies around your knees with poo (You heard me) on them and your face on the floor in the corner.

Oh, both shoes off, your AFO still half on (Being the reason you fell off the toilet in the first place) and this is the clincher. An ink blot poo stain on your floor and poo on the wall (still not sure how that got there), then you have what we call first world problems. Sometimes a friend will tell me, ‘Oh Helen, everyone has problems.’

From now on I will direct them to the above highlighting ‘ink blot’. It’s a great image, isn’t it? If you’re not sure what it is, it’s the weird prints on the wall in a shrinks’ office walls, clients (sorry) ask “what is that anyway?” and the shrink returns, “It’s whatever you think it is.”

Usual answers

“Oh! It’s 2 people making love”
Or “It’s a butterfly”
Or “2 cows”
Lol.

There’s nothing worse than being on the floor in a compromising position and having to work through what you must do in order to get up. That’s that!

I need to eventually roll over onto my right, straight onto my ass, naked ass, I will add, knowing exactly how cold that would be and then wriggle over to the hand basin. More wriggling, onto my knees, right elbow on hand basin then after pulling the second strap off my AFO, try to wiggle my left foot behind me and lever myself up.

Mostly, my right side leads on these adventures and I demand my left leg eventually pulls some weight. Add Pine O’ Clean, toilet cleaner/Napisan and Sard stain treatment, clean Thundies and pants and some serious cleaning in Aisle 2 (Don’t overthink it!) and I’m upright and ready to face the day.

Yeah! This happens to be the best of us and if someone tells you this kind of story, don’t pardon the pun – It’s pretty shitty.

I once had a carer arrive on a Saturday morning and when she saw my ensuite she asked, “What happened here?”

I’m telling you, I cleaned the bathroom, so there was no evidence of what had transpired in there the night before. I explained and to say it was of some similarity to the above and she asked, “Did you just sit on the floor and cry?”

I’m not saying you don’t want to, but it doesn’t help. You gotta plan your attack, do what you have to do to get up/get cleaned up/clean up the bathroom and get dressed.

If all you can do is get into bed to sleep off the trauma, you should. But sitting on the floor in self-pity doesn’t help.

Next!

And Next

Published February 7, 2020 by helentastic67

And Next

A few years back I went to my High School reunion (25 years) and one particular guy asked me these questions.

“Married?”
And my reply, short and sweet “No”
“Divorced?”
(in my head WFT) Again “No”
Then “Children?”
“What?” (again, in my head WFT) “No! Why?”

Now, I do not feel I’ve failed at life because I’ve not done any of those things. I have dated, not much dating. More meet a guy, spend time with said guy (No! Not bonk each other’s brains out) maybe a little, but the stuff you do to work at, if you want to be permanently attached to this person forever.

What? I am a hopeless romantic. I just am not willing to throw myself at every man out there to find a decent one.

Sidebar: Where the hell are the decent one’s by the way?

I digress, I’ve had relationships. Sure, they broke my heart. The others, I broke theirs, or they didn’t have a heart to break.

I have the mentality to not go back when a relationship is over. Alas, if it didn’t work the first time and the one’s that got away have never come back.

And NEXT.

Limits

Published December 27, 2017 by helentastic67

Limits

With the possible exception of relationships with boyfriends in recent years, I’ve learnt my limit for dealing with bullshit or ‘whatever’ is four years.

There are some houses I’ve lived in for four years and I’ve moved when landlords wanted to renovate and sell, or just sell. I’ve now been where I am for four years and about to sign a lease for a fifth year. The last three years, the rent has been inching upwards to ridiculous.

Landlord

But to other things, such as my voluntary efforts, I generally throw myself in and do that original assessment.

What am I doing?
What needs doing?
What needs to change so I can do this?
What can or do we need to achieve by being here?
Is it achievable?
Am I being respected and supported?

When you put it into those terms, four years seems like a long time, right? So, it is with great frustration at this year’s AGM of the Self Advocacy group, I’m part of that I’m resigning from my role as Treasurer.

Self advocacy