Chronic Pain
Think I just became a poet.
We push and pull. I think we weigh our options every day.
We push and pull.
We borrow and loan.
We do this all alone.
Look, I’m a poet.
I wrote this comment on a social media post. I thought it was too good not to share on my own platform.
Don’t think poetry is my bag. To be honest.
Dear Channel 10
You fucked up! Not here to make friends just influence people.
A few months ago, people started reporting my favourite news program to be shit-canned. I thought there was time, not that I imagined I could influence some kind of reprieve. But only as a week later a deadline was announced and it was a foregone conclusion.
My favourite news program would include actual news, comedians and even musicians. So much wrapped up into an hour six days a week. I found if I was ill informed on a particular topic or just oblivious or naive it was explained in bite sized pieces so I could understand. I understood why there was a stampede at the Wall of Mecca back in 1015.
I know, what? There was a stampede where people were crushed and it wasn’t at some music concert or festival. But interesting and questionable how these happen in today’s modern times?
The most informed and completely unlike me individual host being Waleed Ali, someone I quote daily. He was often given the tough job to report like why there is another mass shooting in America. (he will start with how much he hates it) Because mass shootings generally don’t occur in Australia, we just can’t get our heads around why and how this can happen again and again and over again. Just how the fuck it keeps happening?
Have I mentioned we don’t have guns in Australia? Well, not like other countries at least. We have had some machete and knife incidents we are not well pleased with. You can search for Waleed Ali’s social media presence, but I don’t believe he has one. I didn’t check because it is well mentioned on the show he has zero interest in an online persona.
I believe he is part of a podcast which is something I don’t do. But in short, He is from Melbourne, Australia with Egyptian heritage. He was raised on Vegemite and the locally produced music program “Countdown” as I was.
He is actually younger than I am, by six years. I didn’t stalk; I just asked Google. Oh, he’s Muslim, which I am not. But in short, he’s a TV personality, Lawyer and sometime lecturer. I’ve met students he has taught. He’s married and has children. He’s a disability advocate and most importantly is credited by me daily for the line – “Bandaid on a bullet wound!” Because it’s often the best way to describe life with disabilities and how others try to shorthand a fix for a problem I must then revisit over and over again.
Anyway, way, back to how royally Channel 10 fucked up! Should I have premised this post with a swear warning? Or set myself a swear limit? As if!
I think Channel 10 executives were so trying to get the Millennial audience they lost the Gen X and older audience.
I mean, the Millennials as far as I can tell won’t take a job unless they get paid $100 grand a year and they holiday like retiree’s and spend their cash on smashed avo. But complain they can’t afford a mortgage or cover their HECS debt. They are not prioritising being sat home to watch the news at night they are out for dinner at expensive restaurants.
Had not intended to throw all millennials under the bus however, I spent my youth working and studying in the only course that exists where I wouldn’t get a job because I was a woman, a straight woman, without a car or a driver’s license. Ah, I am studying Visual merchandising. Because I didn’t get into what I wanted to study but I needed life to start in Melbourne, so I jumped. Had to get the hell outta Dodge.
FYI, Window dressing jobs at the big department stores were only employing older gay men! or when management was away, they might employ a female. I couldn’t do freelance without an ability to get around. (no car or driver’s license) And my photos didn’t turn out so no folio to find work.
I was also in my twenties in the 90’s when there was a recession. You grabbed any work you could find and you had to hustle. Hence, my commitment to Hospo and keeping myself busy.
Side Bar. I only learnt a few years ago when I was working in the club scene in my twenties I was working in Hospo. Which is short for Hospitality. I will circle back to this another day indeed.
Also, from what I can tell the Millennial generation is getting all their news from social media the algorithm’s giving them all the things they are interested and only that. It must be nice to have a belief system not based on history and legacy.
But going back to the stupidity of Channel 10 Exec’s? Yes, they bragged there would be a super awesome replacement. Paraphrasing somewhat. My bad, it wasn’t. I’ve watched it twice. It was dry. Bland and very boring. If I wanted that I could watch other channels. So, this now is to be replaced with a streamlined version of the 16+ year long program called the Project. When that will happen is anybody’s guess?
Karen and the Motorbike – Follow up
So, remember the previous post? Hellonwheels – Part 2 | Hell onWheels/Life One Handed Where a female Karen thoughtlessly parked their motorbike in front of my shed? Yeah! Like we could forget?
So, I posted those photos to a social media page. You know the one? I had created the page pre-covid to help people network/help each other etc in my apartment building.
When people consistently find themselves on the receiving end of pure selfishness, they post photos of the results of said selfish actions. As I did, only after texting the likely culprit.
Oh My God! Help Me! It got some response. I even sent texts to my actual property manager who contacted the OC, who contacted the tenants, then the tow truck company. And an hour later I got a grumpy rant on the group chat making it sound like she was the victim.
I then had to Admin the shit out of her inappropriate use of the group chat. As I had politely asked her directly, because I had correctly guessed it was her motorbike in front of my shed. She deciding to ignore my messages I then posted it to the group chat hoping to get a little swifter action.
The fact that she got very defensive and stated she had only stopped in for ten minutes and ended staying longer was all completely irrelevant to the fact she had ignored my basic right to have what she takes for granted.
Hellonwheels, allows me basic freedom to go some distances and do local appointments without needing to rely on others and do a little local Hunter/Gathering of items I can take up to and into my home one-handed.
Making me wonder how often she does this?
Old Hell versus New Hell.
On Saturday night I posted to my Social’s this, “Its Saturday night and I’m Out – Like Out-OUT! It blew up well, it was well-liked immediately.
These days, Saturday night is my Single Girl Date Nite when I go off-grid and watch films or try to.
This Saturday I was OUT; I went to see a band I’d like since my days of working in clubs back in the 90’s. I’d not ever seen this band live. The gig had been rescheduled three times due to the Plague. Damn Plague and finally it was here. I should point out back in my club days, I was lucky to be home two nights a week, now I’m lucky to go out two nights a year. God, I feel old.
Preparation to get out in the dark (I can’t see in the dark, if you recall) starts earlier than normal and the ritual of getting ready to go out is harder due to that only doing the ritual twice a year. The Ritual being the excitement of getting ready, choosing an outfit. The make-up, etc, etc. and the pre-event tunes.
Anyway, once near the venue my friend dropped me at a corner to wait while she parked down a side-street, so I didn’t need to navigate dark streets and uneven terrain. While waiting some twenty-somethings walked past stating “what’s with all the old people out tonight?” Grrr, can’t be talking about me.
Sorry, I digress, once at the venue, my tickets not appearing to be on the door, I left my name and they were happy to let us in. The venue manger introduced himself and I will give him a Pseudonym as I do everyone, I hope he appreciates it. Both for privacy and a play on words. Let’s call him Sriracha. You know the hot sauce? I’m not into chilli and I can say, I need to get out more, even though I hit sensory overload really early.
Anyway, Sriracha lead my friend and I through the band room to a corner of the back where there was a raised area, he bought us two stools to perch on and told us if we needed anything, any of the staff could call him for me. My friend did the drinks run and had a little boogie beside me. She also got me my T-Shirt before my size sold out.
Annoyingly, being height-challenged I could get up onto the stool but it was still the right way to go. At concerts and Gigs I’m a wriggler as well as a light Head-Banger (Not the Heavy Metal kind) I’m not a dancer, even before my disability. Not after I found I could not do the Melbourne shuffle. Makes sense as I do have a Drop Foot.
Here is a link for the first song from my early club days in about ’92. Get ready for some Samples. This is in no way an advert for fast food, but still very catchy.
This song, I believe is German but translates as “I am a foreigner” You can look up what it’s about if you are interested. I travelled around the UK on my only overseas trip back in ’94 to this, good times.
This was their last song before they finished with a cover of the Prodigy paying homage to Keith Flint who passed away in 2019. Prodigy was also a huge influence in all the clubs I went to or worked for in the 90’s.
It’s frustrating for me to need to explain to people who have only known me since my diagnosis and my disability that there was a different version of Helen, who experienced a different culture, lifestyle or had different social networks. That Helen is still inside me and is sassy, outspoken and won’t be pushed around. they just don’t want to be exposed to the great things that I experienced to appreciate this version of Helen they see today; they just want to stay with the normal and what they already know. Not learn anything new.
Friendly reminder, while working in clubs I barely drank, never did party drugs, possibly the only reason I made it to 34 before learning of my AVM. My disability as I like to remind people is NOT SELF INFLICTED.
Was home by 1am, still had chores to do after my friend helped take off my shoes and my AFO (Ankle Foot Orthotic), needed a stiff cuppa T, a Bex and a good lie down. Oh, I’m a 50’s housewife.
I feel a bit like if I didn’t get the Plague Saturday night I’m bulletproof. Still not had it, still not complaining.
Now, late Monday night I’m still catching up so apologies for my delay. Lastly, Queen Elizabeth II, may she R.I.P.
Punchline
So, continuing on about the whole Social Media thing, I think I just created a punchline to an old joke. Hear me out. Have you heard the one about?
A tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it?
Does it make a sound?
Then I confess, I forgot the next line and then a tree falls in the forest and lands on a mine, does anyone care?
Someone throws a comment out on Social Media and nobody likes or comments. Should I kill myself?
Ok, clearly not planning to kill myself, however people really take stuff seriously on Instagram and such, they really don’t cope if people don’t or can’t respond.
It escalated fast didn’t it?
I just think people should be strong, independent and learn to stand on their own two feet. Don’t be afraid to ask for help of course, but be strong in your convictions, learn, be educated. Have your own opinion.
You can listen to other people’s opinions, but have your own first. It’s also OK to change your mind, however only after you have all the facts.
Social Media
Ok, I think I made a joke, let’s see if you agree or just hear me out. Tell me your thoughts please.
You know the whole Social Media thing everyone else is on? That I am not. People on Instragram, Twitter and the like.
Yes, yes, I do have a blog and I did eventually get on board the Facey-thingy. Reluctantly.
But it seems some people only have conversations if they are being shared with 5,000 followers and of whom want to be in on the conversation, concentrate on other people’s comments and spread the hate.
I know I sound old, when I say some people are more interested in other people’s opinions than actually watching a documentary, or such to learn about it from the horse’s mouth (so to speak) than make up their own minds.
I’ve come to the conclusion, maybe people would rather communicate with people they don’t know, because they might live around the world from them and not in close proximity (is this safer?) or because they share a mind-set?
Because I guess there is the whole catfish thing. FYI I really am now a 46-year-old single barren spinster living in Melbourne Australia, advocating to/for people with brain injuries, with a cat.
Why anyone would make this shit up to get friends they may or may never meet is beyond me.
Tram Stop
I was standing at the tram stop the other day when waiting for a tram. In a perfect world every tram would be a flatbed tram (that’s accessible) and one pulled to a stop, but the doors didn’t open.
One of the other two women mentioned the tram stated it was not in service, I hadn’t noticed. I claimed poor eyesight and the other woman mentioned she’d broken her ankle at Christmas. Broken ankle lady stated she was doing a Masters in the effects of Social Media and the internet on society (I think). I got my phone out of my bag and looked at it. My phone apart from driving all the amazing things like text, phone, cull emails while out and countless other things. It is my watch, because I don’t have one.
I briefly looked at my phone then up and way down in to the distance, I saw a tram and commented that one was coming. Broken ankle/Masters degree looked at me and asked if I’d ‘Looked it up?’ I said I hadn’t but I had ‘Looked up’ and she told me I’d made a joke.
Even more amusing, was that Masters was older than I am, so she remembered a time without internet/computers and socializing online better than I do. So, for once I didn’t feel like the old one.
Fighting the Big Fight
You know those days you think “Wah” (like a baby) why do I have to be the one to stand up for when people are idiots? And if you don’t do something to make a change, they will keep being ‘idiots’. I had that moment as I often do a few days ago.
Now, by all means we all do it, sure, but then there are times it can be beyond painful.
Then there was yesterday.
I do like to upsize my meeting with my CM (Case Manager) to be help at my favourite café (Where I also go on a Wednesday) and then I wandered down to my GP appointment, so far, so good. Left the GP’s clinic and walked a short distance to the tram stop. I would normally walk to the next stop near the café so I get a little exercise.
Now the weather report. It’s a lovely day in Melbourne, it’s summer, there is blue sky and it’s not hot and muggy. T-shirt weather, everything is right in the world.
I was waiting for about four minutes for the tram, I could just hope the tram would be a flat-bed tram (Disability friendly) so I wouldn’t have to work so hard to pull myself up and get a seat. Then along came a woman, she literally huffed within a minute and she complained about the lack of trams. I told her they shouldn’t be far as I’d already been waiting a few minutes. I don’t normally check the timetable.
I decided to check the timetable myself out of curiosity. It was just before 5pm so trams run everything eight minutes. After 5pm, every six minutes. Not bad right?
A young lady came just as that time and checked the timetable and had her head in her smart phone. Then announced it’s twenty minutes until the next tram, but then there’s three of them.
Negative Nancy and her sore legs.
I asked the younger woman how she knew this? She mentioned some Apps on her phone. I felt so old. I have a smart phone, but it’s under utilised and I refuse to put Facebook or my blog email on it, because the excuse I use is that I’m not 14…
I have my personal email on my phone for convenience, but mostly so I can cull the rubbish and anything of value waits until the end of the day.
Anyway, I digress Ms Apps (not a negative term) mentioned there had been a medical emergency on the tram, hence the hold up.
Negative Nancy: “Oh those people on drugs! I just want to get home!”.
Seriously? Was there a Zombie Apocalypse I didn’t know about? I tried to level the situation by saying “You know, if someone is sick or ill or had a heart attack on Public Transport, they are legally bound to get them an Ambulance. If no one dies, it’s okay!”
Negative Nancy (you know she had something to say about that) “How long does it take to get an Ambulance?”
Don’t know if you’ve had to get an Ambulance, but I have and I wasn’t dying nor did I think I was dying and I was cosy in bed waiting, so it was no drama. It takes as long as it takes.
Again, I suggested whatever the commuters need, they would be triaged with everybody else.
Ms Apps stated she would walk to the next stop, it’s normally what I do and I nearly went with her, rather than submit myself to anymore shitty energy from Negative Nancy.
About a minute later a tram came around the corner down the hill. So, I decided our time together now had a deadline and decided she needed to be told. So, politely I started:
“I know you have maybe had a tough day and your legs hurt”
She attempted to cut me off thinking I would pander to her delicate temperament, but I did not let her.
“Yes, Yes, I know! But what you don’t realise is that right now, I can’t feel my left foot and most of my left leg.”
I started to also indicate a part of my left side and back I used to lift my left leg and despite my
“I have low vision badge,” she didn’t notice. I told her I had half my eyesight. Her demeanour changed instantly and she stated.
“I’m so sorry! Had I known I wouldn’t have.” and she told me I looked ‘Great’ and good.
Hidden disability is a curse isn’t it?
She really hadn’t had her eyes or paid any attention to my cuff and collar on my arm or my walking stick.
The tram arrived and she eventually stepped aside to allow me to get on first to get an appropriate seat for me to not fall over getting on or off.
Two people got up to offer me their seats and I took one of them up on the offer, very much appreciated.
Negative Nancy took a seat to my left in my blind spot simpering like she deserved the seat.
She started to try to make conversation with me but I was really over it, so pulled out my phone. Conversing with her on my left would have given me a migraine and if you think that meant the trauma was over, think again.
On my right was a guy on the phone, he was talking to a work colleague who was using drugs and driving around with his kids in the car.
Um, does anyone else want to hear about this shit on the tram? Unless it’s broken up with words suggesting they are going to get him help? No!
But instead, he punctuated every sentence with the biggest sniff and hark back, it was disgusting.
Luckily for him, he got off about five stops before me, otherwise I could imagine I would have silently help out with a packet traveler tissues and if he had been offended and told me he was not a child. I would have growled at him. I’m too young to be his mother. But here we are.
Saturday
I like to imagine I’ve mentioned it but just in case I haven’t or you missed it. I go off the grid on a Saturday.
That means no mobile phone, none. No emails, hell no, no emails and no social media.
Despite the fact I’m ‘retired’, not bragging, I’m unable to do any of the things that used to pay me and I couldn’t manage what most consider ‘work’, so I am retired, but poor.
Yet I’m still busy with the phone calls organising things, the emails and the keeping tabs on other people’s ‘social media’. Damn I will never get through Facebook news feed, which I might look at twice weekly and hate myself for it later.
However, Saturday’s are the days I allow myself to do one of several things, I eat, I sleep and I watch some TV.
And I repeat.
Today, I’ve mixed it up a little. After I watched ‘whatever’ show while eating breakfast, I decided part of my new routine should be to read a comic.
This is generally something that makes me tried anyway and I am five years (you heard) I repeat, five years behind on my comics, so I read a comic.
Everyone celebrate and do a little dance, because I can’t dance.
And now sleep…
Last Friday, I went to the butchers, I don’t do it often admittedly and I normally save time be calling my guy “Jim” (OK, it the owner but still). This time I just decided to go get a ticket, stand and wait to order like everybody else.
Big Mistake…
Apart from the full body slam from behind I received from some bearded hipster dude because, I mistakenly stood near the ticket machine, I didn’t get what I asked for and of course didn’t know until I unpacked it later. The full body slam, I confess to say was the highlight of this experience, since it’s been some years since I’ve had that level of full body contact.
I know, but from a chick who chooses to be celibate, but misses all the ‘smoochie’ stuff.
What? I’m only human…
The celibacy thing, I’m sure I’ll cover that another time, but in short if I’m single, I’m celibate and now I guess that’s done for now…
Anyway, back to the meat. I don’t know if it’s my slight facial droop or that the woman wanted to sell a more expensive product or she was just deaf but, I was sure I said – “Can I please have four snags and a half a kilo of diet mince!” And what do you think I got? I got four snags – check and half a kilo of diced beef.
Guess I’ll be rethinking how I use it. Which includes defrosting in time for a carer to cut it smaller and perhaps a nice salad with Portuguese spices.
mmm…. Now I’m hungry…
Here is the News
About 2 months ago, I suggested to the lovely Noelle my administrator and biggest support. Without her http://www.Hellonwheels/lifeonehanded.wordpress.com would still be on paper and not live.
I have previously mentioned but just to remind you all. I write long hand on paper when the inspiration takes me.
Generally when I need to rant a little, or express my great frustration or want to share…..you get the idea if you have followed my blog long enough. I photocopy my writing and post to Noelle who is interstate and she types them up and we chat by email and social media. As this process, often means the posts that go ‘live’ there is a significant lag. Lately I’ve not written for several weeks, not been rather inspired to share, too busy living, dealing, treading water and keeping my head above water.
So, the plan to do a live blog at least once a week, the first few weeks just didn’t happen. And thankfully, Noelle didn’t push it. I was busy enjoying Jamima’s last few weeks.
I’ve also been house-hunting much to my dismay (there are no words to accurately describe how much I hate this) and dealing with the inadequacies of the NDIS. (Don’t get me started!)
Jamima has now been gone three weeks and obviously, that fateful week where I finally let her go, was just awful. It’s sad even now.
And now, I’m back at the plan of one live post a week of what is going on now…. and obviously, live, meaning I’m tapping away on my iPad and Noelle will edit my dyslexic efforts. I’ll give the final ‘Go ahead!’ And Noelle finds the memes and posts it live.
So, this week, this is the first post and no matter how my weekend goes. No matter how behind I am on my chores (emails, comics, admin, rest) I’ll tap out some words so I stay with my commitment to keep you up to date of what shit I’m dealing with now.
Hell onWheels/Life One Handed 