Spitting Chips

Published August 11, 2025 by helentastic67

Spitting Chips

Now, this post should come with a warning, there will be swearing or alluding to words I normally will not so much as utter, but I feel you will allow considering the circumstances.

There was one particular Monday, I went down to fang it to a 12.30pm appointment. I had another appointment at the same practice, so Hellonwheels comes in handy. Even allowing me to scoop up take-away on my way home and maybe some items from a supermarket. Fresh milk anyone?

I went into the garage and had two sets of keys in my hand as well as my walking stick and the flag for my scooter. I keep the flag inside as it’s not my first flag. If it’s a selfish person or a low hanging branch they seem to walk.

I walked in the direction of my scooter and looked up, my step slowed when I realised it was not where I expected it to be. The transformer cords dangling loose out of the EV cabinet. Eyes wild, I couldn’t decide if I leave the flag where I expected to find my scooter.

But time was short, I only had 20 minutes until my first appointment, I couldn’t afford to reschedule. I had to get to both that day.

Mother trucker!

What kind of LOW LIFE Scumbag steals a Mobility Scooter? I’m still months later yet to cry. What’s the point? Too angry! One-handed without pockets I was juggling two sets of keys, my walking stick and the flag. Don’t even know why I was still holding on to that.

All while calling my lovely Young John. No time to talk. Was he free? Could he help me get to my appointment? Use the key to get from the carpark into the foyer and then the lift.

Next call to who Young John would refer to as my Indian boyfriend. Basically, any other taxi driver I call to be my transport.

I had to problem solve getting to my appointments. Unlock my front door after going up in the lift. Put flag and scooter keys inside. Back downstairs and out to the street. Get in taxi. Call Owner Corp regarding CCTV Footage. That process alone should have been easier. Made it to my appointment only fifteen minutes late. So grumpy, I did not manage to sleep at my physio appointment. So angry I was.

Swearing – Part 2

Published October 8, 2023 by helentastic67

Swearing – Part 2

What, did you think we were done on this topic?

This is how seriously times have changed. I still remember the first time I swore in front of my Mum, it was a Big Thing. I mean, it just slipped out, she was washing dishes in the kitchen sink and I hadn’t meant to say it out loud but obviously she pulled me up straight away with a “Hey!”

In the olden days the first swear word we used was “Shit!” These days I might let outta a “Excrement!” It’s the same thing just better educated. To the younger generation, use more creative words. Get educated.

And can you drop the long annoying acronyms? So happy to not be parenting in this day and age. One of my recent younger carers, let’s call her 25. Guess what her first swearword was? Yeah, rhymes with Punt. Exactly!

The context here is she was arguing with her brother and she felt he had been and he deserved to be told and their mother heard. Oops!

I think we all know my favourite is still a good “go forth and multiply!” I will let you work that one out for yourselves.

Swearing – Who Me?

Published October 2, 2023 by helentastic67

Swearing – Who Me?

It should be needless to say; I’ve become a bit of a potty mouth in the last fifteen years since my disability. With the best of intentions, I’ll be swearing a lot here today, but all within context.

Hope you can cope? Note, not a question.

When I worked for that shitty NGO (Non-Government Organisation) twenty years ago, it was a Christian Non-Denominal Not for Profit and the grumpy ex-chef taught me one of my favourite swear words that he made work appropriately. Sort of, he would sit and behind his desk, pull up his pants and state rather loudly, “Jesus!” Brief pause “Mary! and Joseph!” I don’t know if my more Godly followers are still reading. But if that’s offended you? You should probably stop reading now. It’s only going downhill from there.

I don’t even know what I wrote for the more devout to follow me to start with, but hang in there, I’ve got something for everyone.

Meanwhile, I express, the above workplace I only refer to these days as Voldemort! If not familiar? He’s the evil person in Harry Potter and they do not utter his name for fear just doing so will bring forth his evil, I will circle back to that one day but it’s a dark place I don’t often venture.

Occasionally, I’d be out with a carer and witness stupidity from another driver on the road and I would let out a “Jesus!” Just that and my driver/carer/wheel woman would complete the saying. I’d compliment her with a “Your training is complete!”

It’s not always needed but when my boss used it, I would look in his direction and enquire, “Is that our caseload?” He would be cleaning his spectacles in quiet contemplation and I asked, “What is it?” He would quote a number that was not good.

The term caseload indicated how many clients we had currently referred to us to get in the door, get Placed or get Exited for one of many reasons. But mostly, it indicated how we were doing a lot of work and if not being efficient enough we were not actually getting paid for it. Other favourite swear words since, have been Sassafras, it’s actually an outer Melbourne suburb where it’s rather nice and lovely, but really, it’s just my creative way to swear. What does that mean? I don’t know. Whatever you think it should? Alas, I should stretch my other creative genius on swearing to another post.

Fun Exercise

Published July 9, 2023 by helentastic67

Fun Exercise

In recent years my once family proud handwriting has gone to shit! (As diplomatically as possible) I know, I can’t understate how terrible my handwriting has become illegible. Even hieroglyphic. Is that a word?

I mean, I write it and even I can’t read it. It might be when I swear the most in the week and that could be saying something.

Who wants to play?

Here is a portion of my shopping list. Take it as a challenge to decipher my handwriting? I feel I should tell you now, for my own amusement, I call my shopping list “Shop Lust!” Because it amuses me to do so and on the top left corner are the grocery items I require.

It goes as follows…
Lasagna sheets
Vanilla Essence
Marmalade
Betty Crocker
***************

Honestly. WTF is that? My carer states “You really wanted them; it’s got several exclamation marks after it!” when this happens, we play it by ear and as we do the aisles getting me some steps in my never-ending battle to get some tiny amount to compete with my blog administrator Noelle.

8pm Friday night……
Me: How many did you get? I did 3,000.
Noelle: 27,000 so far!
Me: how many can I have?
Noelle: 5,000
We both know this is not how it works but it certainly amuses me to ask.

Doing the aisles I reach for the items I remember I need just by going down the aisles. It’s my carers job to check the list as we go to make sure we haven’t missed anything. The ********** remains. We give up as it doesn’t jolt my memory. We head home. Unpack.

My carer departs, the tasks are completed. I’m pulling towels from the clothes dryers hours later and I let out a swear word. The one ending in “Me!”

I get my phone and text my carer those exact words followed by, “sultanas!” At least I worked it out, it would have driven me crazy until I remembered.

How to improve my penmanship? Well, I’ve given up handwriting my blog posts and now I smash them out on my iPad. Not as cathartic but avoiding the issue.

And hit Like and leave a comment.

Being One-Handed

Published January 9, 2023 by helentastic67

Being One Handed

I must confess, I sometimes really love it when people take a moment to realise, I’m ONE-HANDED. Over Christmas I was at a small family gathering, which is to say, they have not spent much time around me since my disability/or disabilities.

We were doing a BBQ dinner and cutlery was scares. I confess, the knife is lost on me these days, I asked my cousin to my left to hold the skewer while I used my fork to pull the meat off the skewer. I tried, after a moment, she offered to do both. On my left, my younger sister reached over with her knife and fork to cut up a snag on my plate.

SNAG! Not just a Sensitive New Age GUY! But another name for a sausage.

A great Aussie line is “a BBQ isn’t a BBQ without a sausage!” and when my cousin came back sit down, cutlery was in very short supply. I offered my knife, still clean and untouched. I had to insist, holding my fork in my right hand and suggesting she had a few seconds to work out as to why I didn’t need the knife.

I explained who had helped me and how. When they got it, they got it pretty quickly and I gave them a smile as if to express, ‘It is what it is’. What can I do? Which made it ok that they hadn’t realised these are the simple things.

It has been strange spending time with family who in the last fifteen years haven’t been around me to know all the day to day things about my disabilities.

I know, despite the multi-layered name of my blog I haven’t covered it much. Mostly because, I’m one-handed and thankfully naturally right-handed, so I’ve just gotten on with stuff.

Often, even immediate family I need to remind them of things I just don’t do and this makes me pretty fucking grumpy.

Who thought I’d wrap this blog post up without uttering a swear word?
Not I!

Wrong

Published December 20, 2021 by helentastic67

Wrong

Sometimes having carers can go wrong. I know I’ve only had good things to say but occasionally in the past, but at times it has gone rather badly.

In my early days, fifteen years ago, getting carers, I had a few older ladies who were due a hip replacement. One woman would do her shift later in the day with me and I noticed she was always a bit grumpier on those days. I nailed it and we discussed, it turned out by the time she made it to me her morning pain meds had worn off. So, I suggested she take another one? She was fine. We stayed in contact for a while, even after she was no longer my carer. She’d bring me her ground coffee she didn’t love and created a blend with what I had and coped better with a coffee. Coffee always makes a shift pass easier.

Another lady I had around that also needed a hip replacement, she was really sweet. I still see this lovely lady out and about. One particular day, she had put a big bag of kitty litter on the front of the trolley underneath, it had a little hole in it. There we were trailing a litre of Clay kitty litter around the supermarket. My carer got down on her knees to fix the bag of litter and she couldn’t get up, I got down to help her. She was really embarrassed, but I don’t embarrass easily these days. I laughed. And then a staff member, who mistook our relationship, came to help us. He thought I was her carer. Right? Seriously, she was this lovely Indian woman who had been in Australia fifty years or so. She has a son my age. In her car she had all kinds of Catholic ‘stuff!’ Jesus! Rosary beads! Etc!

So, while out driving I taught her how to swear.

The word of choice, Fuck Knuckle!

I know. So wrong. I greet these women with hugs. So lovely.

FU

Published July 26, 2019 by helentastic67

F.U.

I know, apart from the title of this blog being the acronym for my favourite swear words or word in this instance, it’s actually for ‘something else’.

I don’t understand this concept where I have to revisit ‘something’ issue/services, something over and over again and it’s still not getting done correctly. It is inefficiency at its absolute best.

You know, that old idea that if you work in an office and every time you deal with a certain issue or case (for example) you put a dot (.) in the top corner of the page. After a determined period of time (a month, a week?) if there are so many dots, you can’t see anything else on the page, then whatever method you are implementing is clearly not working and you should try something else.

Well, I have a new method or suggestion. How about PEOPLE DO THEIR FUCKING JOB! (C’mon, we all knew it would be in here somewhere, right)

For example

Arriving home today, just before 5pm, I respond to texts from my Plan Manager. (The intermediary that receives, approves and pays for all of my carers and services for my NDIS plan) They have received invoices from (for example) 2/1/19 – 2/1/19. Isn’t that the exact same date? Why yes, it is! For 100’s-1000’s of $$$$ and I need to tell them if they should approve payment. But how do I tell them if they should approve payment? How do I know if they are billing correctly if I don’t get and actual invoice?

SOLUTION: Call service provider for invoices. I get one of my ‘least favourite people’ (not my favourite) and because it’s so late in the day. The staff in billing have probably gone home. Prompting me to ask “Does no one work until 5pm anymore?”

Many places still have the 5pm ‘knock 0ff’ time or COB (Close Of Business) I imagine it’s a problem because I bet they still expect to be paid until 5pm.

I wish my day ended at 5pm. That’s generally when all my ‘housekeeping’ begins. Bring my washing in off the racks on the balcony. If not dry: rehang inside. (NO, I STILL DON’T HAVE A FUCKING DRYER), make dinner, filing, yes I do filing. East dinner, clean up, pack the dishwasher and some TV to keep up to date with who, what, where and when. Then emails, but I digress.

So, the woman on the phone gave me a number to call the following day. Was it so hard to get them to just post out my invoices? What? So, I have to ring again? And lastly, FU. In admin terms it’s Follow-up or to follow up.

I always seen to do a lot of this because people don’t know how to provide a service. Don’t get me started, I suspect to cover that another day.

My Kitchen, My Way

Published June 17, 2019 by helentastic67

My Kitchen, My Way

One thing that is a particular challenge being one handed, is how my kitchen is set up. I think I’ve moved four times since my diagnosis and every time I’ve moved since my disability, my mum has been there for at least a week after helping me set up. It’s very important for my kitchen to be unpacked before she goes, she makes that a goal before she will depart, knowing I will get the rest sorted in time.

It’s equally important for me to be part of the sorting of the kitchen. Mum will shove all my oven trays in a cupboard to get them put away, but it’s some time before I get back to it, so I can see/feel/manage what’s in there. What I need to use regularly and put the items I rarely use somewhere else.

Last week I tasked one of my carers to get out a muffin tray and after she swore and carried on, I got up to help. As long as the carers aren’t swearing at me and I’m not swearing at them, it’s fine.

Danger – SWEAR WORDS AHEAD

Published April 29, 2019 by helentastic67

Danger – SWEAR WORDS AHEAD

FUCK ME! I know, I know! Inappropriate, but that is the worst thing I think I growl or mutter at people when I’m out in the city getting to an appointment of some sort and negotiating all the ANNOYING people who cut me off or get in my way, they trip me, etc, etc ad nauseum, all while they are too damn preoccupied with their mobile phones.

The “FUCK ME” I deliver to people a I’m carefully making my way about the city is only after I have exhausted every other grumpy less offensive comment.

I did encounter at one point, a guy walking up some steps (there were about ten and I was heading down as he was heading up) and I am completely about to switch the grumpy off to cheeky. He was looking at his phone too as he ascended the steps, as he made it to the top, I felt the need to inform him. “Now, you are just showing off.” He did have to stop a moment and give me all of his attention and I did need to point out that I was being cheeky. But people have NFI (No Fucking Idea) what I do to manage when I’m out and about.

To give you an idea, I make a habit of walking on the side of the street, so I’m going in the direction I need to travel. I walk close to the shop fronts, so my better eyesight (right peripheral) enables me to see people dart out of shops without noticing anybody else and I can slow my pace to not get bowled over. I cross the lights at the lights and someone will always cut across me to stand at my righthand while looking down eyes glued to their phones. That generally gets a growl.

ent

I was off to the city yesterday and in the course of the day I got a taxi (I love Young John) then a train, then a tram, then did way too much walking before doing another train out of the city, then finally a tram home.

By the time I successfully made it home, I had managed 5,000 steps. WINNING. And the whole day I COULD NOT FEEL MY LEFT FOOT.

Grumpy

Published May 28, 2018 by helentastic67

Grumpy

I confess to say, on some days I make my carers laugh before they even get in the front door. I generally sleep until my carer rings the doorbell and wakes me. I know, what a princess, I usually wake and go back to sleep from only hours after I go to bed, so it’s weird sleep and any coma-like sleep I get from 7am until my carer arrives and rings the doorbell is maybe going to wake me.

I stumble out of bed towards the front door, usually calling out “Hang on”. Beside the front door are panels of glass, so I sometimes see them raise their arm to press the doorbell again. I let out a low growl. I’m sure my neighbours must think these women who come and go laughing must think I am mad.

Getting out of bed

At other times like this morning, Aunty Christine (one of my carers I’ve had for the last four years) was grumpy. She has been overworked and recent leave, she has taken off work, to be a full-time carer at home for family and stressing about all of that.

Auntie Christine

I’ve been stressed about life, the Universe and everything also, so while sitting on the edge of the bath while waiting to get dried, I had time to have a little scratch.

Scratching

I scratch just about everywhere I could reach with my right hand. It’s kinda what I do when anxious, it’s also been hot, so some might be heat rash.

Anxiety Scratching

Out comes the Tea Tree Oil and the moisturiser. She prepares to do the oil on my back. The other carers have been neglectful.

Aunty Christine has a little swear about that. (We have set up a standard where she only does this with me and no other clients. I’m very much OK with it) We move to the lounge and she picks up my AFO. She picks it up by a part that was added on after it was made. It was meant to solve a problem that wouldn’t have existed, if they had made what they were meant to make the first time, instead of a ‘Piss-Arse’ effort that caused me more problems than solved.

Swearing

Christine has a swear about the AFO’s also. I tell her it’s getting completely replaced Thursday, one whole day away. She threatens to bring her glue gun to fix it.

She notices my toe nails are a bit long, we had already discussed my scratching, my heat rash on my weak arm, back and side. Basically, anywhere I could reach with my right hand. Again, my nails are being attended to on Thursday. Nothing too expensive or extravagant, just maintenance I can’t do and I’m not allowed to have my carers to do for me.

Long toe nails

Those humans I choose to interact with and the teasing make life all worth while. Make sure teasing is teasing though and don’t take it too far. That’s when it becomes bullying. Very fine line!

Tera Toons