Life

Published May 12, 2017 by helentastic67

Life

If you’re not living; You’re just waiting to die. I’m often forced to re-evaluate what life is all about.

My dreams

I used to think life would be about having my own family, my ideal picture more recently being a husband and cat and dog. A mortgage (likely) a career, a business of some sort and enough freedom to afford a holiday to foreign shores every now and again.

crazy disability

Since my diagnosis and then my disability, some of these things have faded from being possibilities or a reality?

In many ways, I do feel like I’m just passing time and I’m not sure what life is meant to be about, in the big scheme of things. I’m still trying to make a difference every day with the little things I do and the everyday interactions, but right now I’m wondering what I should be doing differently so I’m not found months or years after I pass away, unnoticed by the world in my armchair as an old lady surrounded by 20 hungry cats…

Cat lady

Who You Gonna Call?

Published May 10, 2017 by helentastic67

ghostbusters_who_you_gonna_call

Who Can You Call

No, it’s not Ghostbusters, if you’re feeling down, who could you really call if you need talking off a ledge? If you were to really think about it, I have both parents still. Not complaining, they are still around and I have two sisters, an older, who lives an hour away and a younger sister who lives with our mum again, 3 ½ hours away.

My older sister, I won’t even send a Facebook request because it would hang in limbo.

My mum and younger sister, I can’t call when Masterchef is on, or Survivor, or even Bachelor. I can’t call before midday and I can’t call certain days of the week after 7pm. They work odd hours and sleep worse hours than me and there seems to be an all-round they don’t want to hear from me, so I don’t bother.

Masterchef

Had a call with mum today with my Case Manager here and the call went surprisingly well. I was eating my breakfast at the time so had to be very patient. We were collectively discussing my application for the NDIS. Occasionally when my mum got distracted by the “problems” and couldn’t get to a solution, I found my words.

Phone conversation

I finished the call with my usual sign-off “Love you and leave you” and my mum gave me the phone equivalent of a “whatever”.

Hanging up I shared a moment with my Case Manager that he understood my pain and yet, if I need “talking off a ledge” my mum would want to hear from me.

My advice to anyone, if you’re feeling down, if you’re having a hard time call someone.

Feeling down

Don’t do anything stupid, just call someone. Start a conversation and if you’re that person someone calls and you don’t know what to say? Just say something.

Sometimes, it’s OK if you don’t know what to say, just talk, give them company.

Having said all of that, there is a rare evening the phone rings after midnight and I laugh when I answer. She asks “is it too late?”

I laugh again.

It’s often a very prompt, matter of fact call. Which is fine.

By that time, I’m trying to wind down and arguments don’t help.

Midnight call

Hot off the Press – 8th May 2017

Published May 8, 2017 by helentastic67

Hot of the Press

Ready! Set! Go!

Osteo Remedial/Mio. Chiropractor/Acupuncture. (B.T. Dubs, it’s called Wednesday, commonly referred to as my Punchy/Stabby Day!) Physio. Completely missed lunch 2 or 3 days this week. Mum was down from Monday Night & 2 nights we were up doing ‘Someone else” Job so late I got to sleep around 3am.

Chiropractor

Gave mum her early Mother’s Day gift. A cute little teddy bear I hid between her pillow and the doona in the spare bedroom. It has a little button on its Tummy and when you press it a child-like voice says “I love you Mum!” She was very coy but I think she really liked it because that night I thought she would wear out the battery. Totally worth it!

Mothers day

But we got there. Even made a decent frittata this week, haven’t made one in years and visited the local pet shop. The only furry beast in residence was Vigaro, a somewhat friendly young male with black and white fur, some cute black marking on its mouth. The pet shop always has one cat from Maneki.Neko Cat Rescue Neko.org.au. (Check it out)

He loved a good head rub from me and Mum even had a cuddle. This visit came about because it looks like I’m not moving any time soon. Not much around and none of it very nice in my price-range. so, why am I waiting to get my new In-House Mental Health Care Provider?

Black and white cat

Well, I could afford the $120 cost of a fully vet-checked fur-child but, not the cost of the food & kitty litter as I returned or gifted every bit I had 6 weeks ago. Meanwhile Vigaro bit my Mum…..Hope he finds a nice home all the same. I have also created the very short Pro’s (versus Con’s) list of not having a cat! I only spent $50 on people food last Friday.

Managed to catch up on some admin today. Even read a comic. (only one this week) in the constant battle to clear my couch which is more like my in-tray. Received some emails from some blogger colleagues this week which was lovely, wondering who is responsible for the T-Birds & Purple Tree’s posts from some time ago (You know who you are!) and when I might see another?

At the age of 40 my mum finally got around to making her second daughter a quilt! My mum is a Mad Quilter. Ok, she says passionate, I say Mad! Same/Same! That was four years ago it’s finally been on my bed for the last 2 nights! Couldn’t have had the quilt on my bed with Jamima……she was a scratcher, when it came to bedding.

Quilt

Have been watching Homeland and 13 reasons why, the second reminding me of the painful years of High School. Not quite finished, so no spoilers please! Would be a great soundtrack.

Wondering if these Hot off the press updates work for people? I enjoy the routine & that it works out to be current for everyone however I find as life is always busy I make the excuse not to prioritise some time to write down other ideas into actual laid-out posts.

Feel free to comment & provide feedback? Please keep it positive?

It’s the start of a new week all over again!

New week

Census

Published May 5, 2017 by helentastic67

Census 1

Census

Going back in time to the Australian Census…

Well tonight, sorry last night was Census night! I’m going to presume you know what that is?

I made a joke to Noelle tonight that I turned away a booty call to make filling in my Census form easier. But as I said that was a joke.

Booty call

Ten years ago, when I had the best housemate ever, previously mentioned as ‘B’ (Fred’s been overworked).

At the time, I worked in Admin and B was a roadie. We both sat on the couch on Census night and handed the form back and forth taking our responsibility, seriously. It hard to justify and explain what you do for a living when you make people do work for the dole.

Job description

Answer phones, encourage client to attend, set up sponsors, host and negotiate with other Government agencies. Basically, make unemployed people do things they don’t want to.

How to describe what a roadie does? We learnt to simplify.

Lift heavy things!

Lift heavy things

12.53am

Published May 3, 2017 by helentastic67

12.53am

So, my day is still going! I’ve been writing for a few hours, inspired to write about the day and while on a tangent getting through the backlog that has been plaguing me.

creative-writing-final-meme

I write when inspired and I write when I’ve got stuff to say and it all seems to come together at the right time.

Feel free to ask questions and I can see if I can get to them.

Asking questions

Hot off the Press – 1st May 2017

Published May 1, 2017 by helentastic67

Here is the news 010517

Shock horror! I’ve kept to the self-challenge of a weekly post fresh from my brain to the iPad to Noelle. Woo-hoo!

We have had two long weekends in a row, one was thanks to Good Friday and last Tuesday was due to ANZAC Day.

Good Friday

In very simple terms I found myself explaining to one of my two youngest carers the significance of this day admittedly, this carer is not Australian born.

Anzac Day

ANZAC day is when we commemorate/celebrate the Australian and New Zealand diggers efforts in WW1, now 102 years ago. To be completely fair, it’s been pointed out to me I would not pass an immigration test on some Australian topics and I was born here. But I had to explain to said young carer they would not cancel or postpone the March through the city because of a little rain. Rain was the least of the problems faced the day they landed in Gallipoli.

This year they emphasised the younger generation of soldiers who seem to be over-looked despite them dealing with fresh PTSD and re-entering society. And there is no excuse, we now know these things exist.

My two youngest carers these days are both half my age, I occasionally have to remind them and thank them for making me feel sooooo old!

This weekend I dug out some clothes from my former lives working in clubs and an office environment. I have not been a size “tiny” formerly known as “petite” for some years. It’s not like I would ever wear them again, it’s just been a process of letting them go. Maybe after a wash, iron and photographing I can sell them online. Worn by people far, far away and I can continue living in the style that I have become accustomed to.

Petite

Haven’t seen any new properties this week. We started the week feeling a little like summer wasn’t completely over and by Wednesday it was ‘full winter! What just happened?’ So yes, the woolens are now out!

Oh, this week despite getting back into my baking and my plan for World Domination through people’s stomachs, I put a rib out!

rib out

Did you hear me? I put a rib out…….oh, how I hear you ask? Well, I get to ride shotgun when ever in a car, due to motion sickness dating back to day dot! And because it’s more room? This means in OZ, I sit in the front on the left. My left arm doesn’t work, so I twist and reach with my right arm to close the door. That’s how I do it.

My chiropractor puts it back in. First on my back, then the front. Finally putting some tape on my ribs under my left ‘girl’ (breast) it both tickles and hurts.

Lastly, I have felt Jamima’s presence (if you believe in that kind of thing) several times since her parting. Most recently, this morning, while I was in bed trying to sleep. A pressure of the blankets pushing down against my legs. My shins to be more exact. I didn’t move, but accepted the presence to be her checking in on me. One of my blogger cohorts said good bye to their Rumpydog last week bringing it all back. At least Meimi now has the husky dog keeping her company up there.

Rumpy Dog

Nearly midnight, must be time to single task!

Lots of love

Guinea Pig

Published April 28, 2017 by helentastic67

Guinea Pig

I find I’m often asked to take part in trials because I seem to respond well to treatments and I’m articulate enough to tell people what’s going on.

There are Pro’s and Con’s to this.

The simple ones being I get to do things I can’t afford and aren’t available through the public medical system. The down side is, I get given less than spectacular equipment that helps them get the results, ongoing funding things they need after lying to me about all the great things they will do/give me.

Guinea Pig 1

All while sabotaging me from getting what I need. Case in point, I was part of a Botox trial to stretch my calf muscles and improve my walking and fix my hyper-extension, so in the time I wouldn’t need a knee replacement.

I was told I’d be put in a cast and if I managed to not fall over, they’d send me home. I’d be recast after a week in a slightly more uncomfortable position (calf to toes) and maybe again for a 3^rd and 4^th week. During the 1^st and 2^nd week I left the hospital in self-funded taxi’s (taxi’s I couldn’t afford) and went back to my neighbourhood to appointments I couldn’t live without.

I did get good coffee.

In hospital, I was bullied and not given pain meds my own GP prescribed me. I had supplied my own meds and while kept under lock and key, they refused to give them to me, adding to my stress.

But even after two weeks, they refused to let me go home. They insisted on keeping me in despite knowing it stressed me and I didn’t need to be there. They kept insisting to keep me in because they thought I’d get my cast wet if I went home. My cast got wet! EVERY SINGLE SHOWER I had in hospital.

Eventually, I think I growled sufficiently at a new doctor at the rounds and they set me free.

Public hospitals: They have a body in a bed and they get funded!
Every person their cat and dog came to visit me, access me, learn from me, all so they can tick their boxes and get more funding.
They told me they’d send me home with shoes they would fund. I could no long wear my beloved shoes.

Orthotic shoes

On the way home mum took me shopping for some temporary shoes, as there had been nothing but excuses. They eventually did fund me shoes that wore very quickly, I nearly twisted my ankle and it meant after 4 months needed replacing, I could get another pair funded for 12 months.

Expensive shoes

My mum paid for the cost expensive pair of shoes, I’ve ever owned and they are medically approved shoes. That I then had to find someone to reimburse my mum. She is not wealthy.

I still have my hyper-extension 2 years later.

Guinea Pig 2

Hot off the Press – 24th April 2017

Published April 24, 2017 by helentastic67

Hot off the Press 240417

Hot off the Press!

Another weekend has passed. Sadly, there is much ‘admin’ I still did not get to.
Including going back to revisit and edit last Friday’s post.

Autumn has settled in Melbourne and I had my first weekend of my lounge resembling a Chinese laundry. Right now, it’s Sunday night and I need to go to sleep before 3am, as has been the habit the last few nights. I have just not been able to switch off. I have however been catching up with some old friends. Making new friends, getting to know them and saying good bye until another season. I am, of course referring to my TV shows. Been doing some serious catch up. The basics go like this;
The Shooter, meh? It’s good. But you can live without it. If you are scratching around for something to entertain you, then give it a go. It’s 10 episodes so not a huge commitment.

Watching TV

Next, Blacklist Redemption, if you haven’t seen Blacklist then get it together. If your debating the spin-off. Must watch! It’s 8 episodes and you will want more but be ok that it’s a short and sweet season. Lastly, I caught up on Suits, I kinda save the best to last with this one. If you haven’t seen any of it I’m not going to tell you too much except to say watch it. Nice guy screwed over by the system? Trying to do good, not in the mood much for critiquing sadly.

Finally switched off the brain tonight and forced myself to single task. I put on the 2016 reboot of the film Hackers. You know the 90’s original is how Angelina and Johnny Lee Miller met and later married. Great setting in New York and even better soundtrack. This version, not so much. I don’t think I’ll be watching it over and over again like the original. Next!

Switching off Brain 1

Off to the city to see my shrink tomorrow. I prefer to use that term (more fun) although to be fair she is a Psychologist/Social Worker. I’ve been seeing her for 10 years and I’m still not ‘fixed!’ (A little mental health humour)

My weekdays, are becoming very busy. Autumn has meant it gets dark around 6pm and that means I try to be home around 5pm. Most of my appointments out of the house are around what ‘normal’ people consider lunchtime to mid-afternoon. Lately, I’ve had to scramble home to be collected to go to an inspection to see properties while in my price range are tiny shoeboxes. I just want to hurry up and relocate so I can get my new fur-baby or just settle in and stay here.
Then of course, I’ve been getting another carer around dinner time to help with food prep. That could be actual food prep or admin or folding clothes to be perfectly clear. I’ve even started outsourcing the preparation of my pill containers. Everything in the effort not to be still doing emails at midnight. Such is this rubbish form of retirement I find myself doing.

On the upside, after an 18-month period where Stupidlink have struggled to do much right, they did finally decided I am still eligible for my Disability Support Pension. Good for them, right? I did walk into a Stupidlink with my Mum and announce who I was and that I was sorry I was late for my JCA (Job Capacity Assessment) appointment and the staff member replied that, that was for people with a disability! I motioned to my arm in the sling, my walking stick and the badges explaining my low vision. I’m sure I gave her a frown and she apologised. Hidden disability or just plain stupid, I ask you?

Anyway, the cold has gone but the little wheezy cough has returned, not happy at all.
Oh, one last thing before signing off, I visited a pet shop a few weeks ago. No, not the kind with cages and pets for sale, but the kind with pet food and grain and such. I knew they had a cat in residence perhaps to help with mice and such? I went to have a pat and perhaps some ‘Love’ (not meaning to be creepy) that cat was so fickle! Must have sensed the recent grief from losing Jamima wash over me and that cat wouldn’t come near me.

To the start of a new week! Charge!

New week

Young John – Part 2

Published April 21, 2017 by helentastic67

Taxi driver

Young John Part 2

Young John came to Australia when he was only 14 years old. He was from Greece, back then he was considered too old for school, yet he couldn’t speak English so he got a job in the factories.

Greek-Migration

Eventually, he got a taxi license and drove his own taxi. As a man of his era (he is early 60’s, but thinks I believe his is late 50’s) they were encouraged to reinvest their income into their taxi licenses. So, when they retire, they wouldn’t need a pension. They are the pre-super generation.

Yes! There has been a generation of taxi drivers who don’t speak great English or know their way around Melbourne or know how to use a GPS however, that was not Young John’s fault.

I know Uber has made some waves to the Taxi Industry and I like to image Uber was 1^st launched as a ride-share idea, not a way for people who don’t have great cars/need to substitute their income etc to make a living.

Uber driver

I have this conversation with many taxi drivers all the time and they tell me all the expenses/overheard, they pay for.

They pay for their security cameras, they are required to have for our safety and theirs, they pay for the system that links them to business/fares, not to mention the new car every six year, whatever K’s and insurance.

I now live closer to the rehab centre Young John first took me to and while I don’t go there anymore, anytime I need to have a taxi somewhere I text him. I tell him where I’m wanting to go and what time I need him. He will often just text me back and we often negotiate.

Every time I see Young John, he greets me by calling me “Princess” and that I’m driving him crazy and that he’ll “call my mother” I’ve given him her number and told him to go right ahead, he has yet done so.

Lately Young John has been telling me he regrets even coming to this country that has been his home for 40+ years. He has raised his family here and he has impacted so many lives in the positive, it breaks my heart.

Getting back to why Daniel Andrews deserves a good slap these days is because he had decided to make serious reforms to the taxi licenses.

I understand they are recalling all taxi licenses and paying the owners of said licenses poultry value for them, so they can re issue them out to more people.

The value of the license is supposed to be worth half a million and they look to only be getting paid $100 grand. And no chance to get a pension. And what are the older generation supposed to do?

Mental health has become a serious issue for those taxi drivers who have worked hard all their lives here in Australia. Paid their taxes and raised and educated their children. Now, to be treated like they don’t deserve to feel their contribution has meant anything? Drive Uber?

Uber driver 1

I’m sure this topic is not done.

I’ve had some taxi drivers tell me, if they legalize Uber they will go on to the Dole (New Start!) and drive for Uber meanwhile, Young John won’t be able to get a pension in this country. I should point out, Young John’s day starts at 7am when he drives across town to collect some intellectually handicapped kids (when I say kids, I mean late 30’s) and drives them to a Centre they go to 5 days a week for activities.

I’ve often rang him when I’ve been across town at a rehabilitation facility to see if he could squeeze me in and conveniently, he was passing on his way to deliver another of his regulars to her home. In this case, a 35-year-old who was born mute.

I sat in the back as he chatted nonsense to her, entertaining her on her way home. Her interests were lollies (I know that sounds wrong) Young John singing the 1^st two lines of Old MacDonald, of which he gets wrong anyway. He is amusing.

I try to call on Young John anytime I have Cab Vouchers to pay him, since he mostly squeezes me in, in-between his other “Young People” and doesn’t charge me.

Young John is like my adopted father, he asks about my love life or lack there-of and we discuss the problems in the world. Ironically, the things I don’t discuss with my own father and on the days, that I’ve received the worst news ever, Young John has been there. For a kind word and a hug.

I’m sure I’m not done singing his praises.

I hope I’ve done Young John proud, as he’s been patiently waiting for me to write about what a blessing he has been.

I know, I probably would not still be here but for people like Young John…

Love you John

Young John – Part 1

Published April 19, 2017 by helentastic67

Taxi Driver

Young John Part 1

Now if I do this correctly, you will cry. Get your box of tissues and if need be, pinch yourself to cry if I can’t do it sufficient justice.

I don’t hate many people because it’s an emotion that is a waste of time, however most people wouldn’t be aware (should you need to know) that I went to High School with Victoria’s current Premier. His name is Daniel Andrews.

To be clear, we were not friends, he seemed an OK type, but I had nothing to do with him one way or another beyond a polite ‘hello’ in passing.

Daniel Andrews 1

But these days, if I saw him I would want to slap him. Probably not in the face, because don’t think Orange suits me, but definitely on the back of the head, like a naughty child.

I say this because I’m lucky enough to have a lovely taxi driver in my life.

His name is Young John. (Get the tissues ready!)

I met Young John about seven years ago, when I went to a local Physio/Rehab centre. He car-pool’s people into the centre. That first day Young John’s yellow taxi pulled up in front of my home and as I stepped outside he called out his greeting “Young Helen”, I instantly assumed I must be the youngest person he had to transport that day. I got in and we drove off. We chatted and when we pulled up for the next person, he got out and greeted the next guy “Young George”. Now George may not be his name, I can’t recall, but “George” was not a day shy of seventy and had, had a double hip replacement.

Young George was helped in and we started again, then conversation flowing easily.

Now, I suspect Young John calls everyone ‘Young’ so as not to offend them. Just like you see a Grumpy Old or vicious dog in the street and you want to pat them, you call them ‘puppy’ and they all seem to melt.

I probably should mention why I want to slap the current Premier for Victoria, said Daniel Andrews?

Daniel Andrews

Young John came here when he was too old to go to school, so he got a job in a factory until he was old enough to get a driver’s license and drive a taxi. He pays so much money to maintain his taxi license and has often driven 7 days a week for 40 years.

Currently, the Australian Government is trying to buy back all the taxi licenses for a fraction of their value. And reissue them to move taxi drivers for much, much more than the previous owners are compensated.

And this is just a tiny rant because I don’t have the time to unpack all the things wrong with Uber and the corruption that is Uber.

Uber driver

I will never catch an Uber and the many, many people from disabled, to elderly to intellectually handicapped that Young John ferries around Melbourne every day will not catch an Uber.

Young John is like my adopted father, often every week day I send him a text message suggesting a pick-up time and location to throw me out. Ok, deliver me in one piece. He responds with an offer. I continue the negotiations and often scooter on Hellonwheels to my final destination locally and walk a small block to where he is often waiting for me.

I get in to him saying “Princess! You’re driving me crazy! I’ll call your mother!” I respond with a prompt “Stop it. You love me!”

Princess