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.

It’s Still a Win Right?

Published July 21, 2025 by helentastic67

It’s Still a Win – Right

You know those days, this is literally how my Monday went. I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.

Went to bed early, 12.30am, that’s early for me, trust me. Still awake until 5am, but I had an early start plus a full morning planned. First mission, fucking disaster.

Carer arrives at 8am, even my cat is listed off and confused. She knows when I should write off the day and go back to bed, but I had a specialist appointment that is every three months. On a Monday, at 11.30am, because it’s the last appointment for this clinic on the day.

This is often a Team Helen mission. Mondays I have a carer called Helen; she’s a Heavy Hitter! (I’ll circle back to that later!) We taxi to save parking dramas or me going in without her. Her agency also hits me hard for kilometres in my carer’s car. (ie. they hit me for it instead of my funding.) and the carer always is worse off. I digress, taxi to appointment, I inhaled my entirety of pills before I left and pack something to eat on the way. Learnt from the driver that burnt toast smell I always catch on the way is a coffee roaster. No, I’m not having a stroke. (Apparently, that smells like burning car tyres?)

Arrive safely and early. Hear a Code Grey while we wait this triggers a Google search of the different codes that are used in a hospital. My carer is on my left and that is my worst blind spot. I regal her it’s a story of a visit to hospital over ten years ago when a code was called for me when I’d tried to get a sleeping pill at 1am when they kept putting me off. “Just close your eyes and you will go to sleep!” I was told, like I’m a four-year-old child not a forty-year-old woman who never slept at the correct time. Anyway, started to feel a little seedy while we waited. Helen asking if I was OK, did I want a drink?
You know when you just want to power down and not be present? Started to feel sick. Suggested Helen should move to my right side. We had discussed it, but we went with it anyway. So, I threw up. (Just saliva! Not my breakfast even but worth noting!) and peed my pants. Honestly! This has never happened before in public.

I used the bathroom and when I returned Helen mentioned the Doctor had asked if I was still OK for my appointment? Like, I didn’t come all this way to throw up in the waiting room and not get Botox in my leg? It’s also usually these times my carer comments on how pale I look and after throwing up how much “better” I look. I am generally sun-averse anyway, but “pale” is normally fine by me.

My recent visits for Laser hair removal start with the question “Have you had any sun?” And my witty response. “Not if I can help it?” Anyway, asked for something to put on my seat on the way home. This was granted and off we departed for home. She asked me if I was OK, and I reminded her if I wasn’t I’d come to the right place. It was a hospital after all. Mission to get home, half showered and into clean clothes and back to bed my only goal for the rest of the day.

My lovely carer departs and I manage to sleep for two hours. Wake in time for an appointment with someone that thinks my appointment is on Thursday. Don’t know why this keeps happening, but it’s about the only thing I can read in my diary. Lazy standard rest of the day. Prepare the next week of pills, while standing in the kitchen. Feed Mika, eat standing up to better utilise time. Hope the Botox doesn’t kick in while I’m moving around my home. My leg will give out mid-step. Botox in my leg doesn’t make it look younger, just work better.

Botox puts over worked muscles to sleep for a few months, so other lazy muscles have a chance to build and take an even balance when the Botox wears off. This is to manage my drop foot and hyper extending knee so, I don’t need a knee replacement one day and I move and walk better. Who knew right? So, that was my Monday. Am I done yet?

Magnificent – Continues

Published October 11, 2021 by helentastic67

Magnificent – Continues

Later that night, I discussed my legendary stopping traffic in Burgundy St Heidelberg and my mum was all like “Omg! You could have been killed!”

Seriously, now she cares, I’m kidding, she cares.

I mentioned again the above to my Heidelberg taxi driver Sean (is his real name!) and his reply that was simply put “Cabbies like pro-active clients!”

Nailed it!

I like to imagine I’m aware of my surroundings enough to not put myself in danger. I also like to imagine (call me crazy!) that nobody has enough insurance to hit someone with a disability.

And if that Gold Merc driver had been any danger I wonder if he would have appreciated a walking stick imprint in his boot?

I knew he would have been all “I’ll sue you!”

I would have been all nice like “See you in court!”

I wonder if the judge would have been empathetic.

So, yes! I’ve thought it all through.

Magnificent

Published October 4, 2021 by helentastic67

Magnificent

I have to say, today was magnificent! Wait!

I went to my first of two appointments today in Heidelberg. I have made it a habit to walk to a local take-away shop to pick up a vegetable pide and I book a taxi from there to scoop me up and get me home.

Today none of my regular taxi drivers could fit me in so, I rang for one. What’s the damn address? I get to tell my regular guys simply ‘the take away place’ and they manage to get a park across the street or call me to tell me they are around the corner. I waited.

I noted there were no free parking spaces for a taxi to pull in. It’s a very busy shopping strip where traffic is non-stop. Car spaces open up and are taken again very quickly. Some spaces become available. I message to see where my taxi was and had the option to speak to my driver that had accepted my booking. I spoke to him and told him I would step into an empty carpark and he could pull in.

I stepped into the back of three empty car spots, in a row of cars, a car went to back into where I was. I shook my head and moved towards the passenger window. I briefly explained my dilemma.

“Taxi coming to pick me up. He would need to pull in.”

This was fine. He pulled into the middle carpark and as he was getting out of the driver’s side (on the roadside not curb-side), another car also considered parking where I was standing. I stood firm. I looked through the car’s rear window. I could not make eye contact. I should point out; I should be wearing a face mask as Covid is a thing.

I stood firm, other cars were lined up wondering what was happening. I looked to the driver trying to steal my car spot. He was driving a vintage gold Merc.

Say it with me now, three things wrong with that sentence. Ok, two. Vintage is ok.

I realized the driver was an older (he was old!) Greek man, I shook my head, “no!” at him. I pointed to the Audi in the road, waiting for this situation to be resolved. I did my default stone face. “I’m not giving in!” and shook my head again. I asked the man who had parked by now if he could tell the old Greek man why I was not moving. He explained to me that he could not see me.

How could he not? I am dressed in the standard uniform that is Melbourne. BLACK & BLACK & BLACK, TODAY. It’s cold, the end of summer but finally we have some blue sky.

Quite frankly, just happy it’s not 40 degrees in the shade as it was a week ago, because I could not wear black.

So, where was I?

The Greek man in his vintage gold Merc drove away. I had indicated again to the Audi waiting for traffic to be resolved and traffic continued to move. The man and his wife got out of their car that they had picked and the husband told me the old Greek man had been none too pleased. I smiled and said I had noticed he was rather grumpy.

My taxi driver pulled in and I unloaded all my handful of yeah, bag, walking stick and things. And the day went on.

There are many times I stand my ground as a not young, hot and sexy something-something woman but I will always stand up to people like my disability didn’t happen because there are certain things I don’t stand for.

I am magnificent!

Tuesday

Published September 20, 2021 by helentastic67

Tuesday

Had a crazy Tuesday this week. Now it’s Friday and I’m sitting at my fave café for what has become my new normal day here to lunch and write. It’s the Covid normal.

In my early days of diagnosis, I felt the need to explain my life was less Brain Injury and more normal and my first specialist explained I was a high functioning ABI.

So, Tuesday was a bit more crazy than usual. This is probably a good example of me being high functioning. Keep in mind, Helen is not a morning person.

9:15am – Usual carer arrives for Personal Care. She does all her chores and I do mine.

I make breakfast and sit to eat. (Slam down my entrée of pills)

Turn my phone on. It starts, the bells and whistles, texts and calls and messages. I don’t know why I need to go off grid on the weekend.

I call and negotiate with my young John to get me to my first of two appointments. He can squeeze me in.

11.45am – I’m meeting my Neuro Physio. He sits on the floor trying to stretch out my left calf and front ligaments.

I have been diagnosed with a clunky ankle. It’s an official medical term. It’s causing and adding to my knee replacement one day. It’s already nice and crunchy! (My knee)

So, he’s doing him. I’m doing me. I’m checking texts, sending texts, then I’m required to stand favoring my left side and sit, twist my upper body towards my left to help my leg and foot do leg and foot.

To be clear, all this teases my brain. It’s not super fun, because my right-side brain is saying “you want to do what? Get firetrucked!” (Trying not to swear!).

And I’m dealing with one of my two agencies to fill a shift, the following day on the Wednesday.

It’s a 6-hour shift where I get escorted out, I do the things, we have lunch either out or at home and I set them chores while I scooter out to other appointments, they don’t need to take me to. It’s also when I fit other things in where I need muscles and things that I can do by myself or on P.T.

It’s a 6-hour shift. The texts from my agency go back and forth. Eventually, I’m offered 3 hours which I later describe as like putting a band aid on a bullet wound. It’s a great image, isn’t it?

I was responding that I could offer their shift to my other agency, as in the whole shift 6 hours. What pretty band aids on either side of that 3 hour. I need the whole 6 hours.

I mention via text, I’m in the middle of something and I need to be present in my appointments, but then I get a rather long shitty text stating they had spent 4 hours messaging other carers and clients to find me someone. It sounds like they think I’m ungrateful. The grumpy text ends with an apology for the text. I am now getting busy – this is eight days after I started.

Hopefully I can do it justice. But otherwise, could be, I didn’t get to read her whole message. I got the gist and immediately texted my other agency and if the person was not in the office, I rang them directly.

When I rang, I could even interpret the pause and inner office convo that happened in the background. A carer they have been wanting to send me for some time, they were just waiting on an NDIS checklist.

I confess it’s been two weeks since that fateful day. So, while this may not flow seamlessly from the previous post, I hope you can keep up?

So, I text the agency who is choosing to do their job the hard way, that in the middle of two appointments I need to be actively present at. I’ll get back to them.

It does already look like I’m covering the following days shift myself another way. I flick a text to my other agency. In case that staff member wasn’t in the office that day, I quickly call.

“What’s that?” I’m on the phone while my Occupational Therapist, (OT) who I’m just meeting for the first time is with me. “No, I told her she could absolutely go pee.” Respectfully, that makes us friends for life.

I call the agency and I can tell exactly the conversation that’s happening in their office.

“Oh, send X, Y, Z!”

“Is that Helen? Just fill that shift!”

There is no better motivation than me missing a specialist appointment because their afterhours staff member fucked up my Monday morning. My Botox appointment was rescheduled for two months further away. Botox keeps my left toes from curling (I know. What?). Yes! Botox in my leg.

Anyway, yes. The NDIA survey has been completed and X, Y, Z can cover my Wednesday shifts until my other agency can cover it again.

After my OT appointment, I head out and call my Heidelberg taxi driver. Young John is best at this time and so is Sean!

I hoof it to my far local pide dealer. Pide is not code for anything. It’s just where I get my vegie pide from. Another taxi driver has arranged that I can wait around the corner to make life easier.

On the drive home (10-15 mins) I text the first agency. I confess I was pretty grumpy earlier and wished to call my support coordinator to growl at the agency because I just didn’t have the bandwidth to give the polite diplomatic response.

Yet, I messaged something along the lines of, ‘I appreciate how hard it is to fill shifts when my regulars are away or don’t have a weekend. Then something that I genuinely did appreciate her efforts. Despite that, rather than ring me first to ask if she could wriggle things so she could cover three of the six hours of my shift. Would it be enough?

Sometimes it is but this particular day, I had placed other things in around and in between the appointments that required wheels and muscle.

I did all of this with a migraine.

So, that shift was moved for a month or so to another agency.

The following Tuesday I received a message asking if I expected them to cover my Wednesday. I had to remind them I’d moved it temporarily. This is what happens when someone tries to cover a bullet wound with a band aid.

Efficient

Published November 23, 2018 by helentastic67

Efficient

In many ways’ life had prepared me to ready and deal with Life One-Handed. There were subtle signs when I was about sixteen and on nightly coffee/tea duty for the family. I couldn’t carry two mugs at once without spilling the left one. I didn’t have to carry it for 6-7 metres from the kitchen to the lounge, but spill it, I did.

Spilled coffee

Mum would watch me coming and say “Drop you left shoulder” had nothing to do with it really, but life went on. But there were those signs that screamed DO NOT WORK IN HOSPITALITY and occasionally, at work (I was a checkout chick at the Super Cheap Supermarket, so cheap they no longer exist) they put me on the left-handed checkout. No idea why, but there you go.

Left Handed

But until my diagnosis, when I was thirty-four, everything I did kinda moulded me to be very efficient with my time and energy.

These days, I leave the house just in time for lunch (by normal people standards) and I’ve made calls, done internet banking and gotten it “ALL” together.

Normal People lunch

Wednesday’s are a perfect example. I scooter to my last appointment, which is local to home (weather permitting), walk a small block to rendezvous with Young John. (I negotiate with him over breakfast exactly what time he can squeeze me in)

Young John taxi

On the way, I dropped a doona into the dry cleaners to be pressed ($6.00) Young John scoops me up and drops me down to Clifton Hill.

Today, I had to start at the Post Office to pay a few bills, I crossed to my favourite lunch location. Note; I do not mention it by name. Yeah, that’s on purpose. I have a few Melbourne followers these days and it’s sometimes hard enough to get a table and I do love the way they greet me by name when I arrive and when I depart. I mean, that’s what you get by being a regular. Right! Anyway, I take photos of lunch finalise my Wednesday lunch post and email to Noelle.

Favourite Cafe

Generally, I inhale lunch and my medicine (Latte) and maybe write a post.

Off I hobble to my chiropractor and if I’m early I will make a few calls, cull some emails, reach out to some friends as part of my “Good Mental Health Day” regime.

Good Mental Health Day

I see my chiro, then bolt for the tram, often texting whatever on the way. I arrive at acupuncturist get stabbed, eight times, have a little kip (that a bit British for a nap) then scooter home. Often stopping at a few local suppliers on the way.

Little Nap

Check the letter box, without getting off my scooter and picking up an empty box from the supermarket for recycling. (I’m a bit green, you see) The box also comes in handy to get things upstairs from the scooter shed to my apartment. I’ve even worked out a way to (once in the lift) put the box on top of the hand rail, put my leg against it so it won’t fall, using my ONE GOOD HAND, swipe my card and push the button.

Scooter

Once out of the lift and at my apartment door, I use the same technique to hold the box against the wall while I open the door. Putting whatever I’m carrying on the floor can be very stressful on my lower back and that’s the last thing I need.

So, efficiency is the key.

Efficiency is the Key

Today’s Lunch – 25th July 2018

Published July 25, 2018 by helentastic67

Todays Lunch

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

Well, my punchy-stab you day, with my lunch at my favourite cafe where I add the final touches to this post has just become a lunch and stabby day and my punchy part of the day has had to find somewhere else to fit into my busy week.

Stabby

My normal Wednesday would centre around my home tram line and my fantastic young John, my taxi driver and with a bit of walking in between it all falls into place without too much stress, expense or loss of my independence or my ability to work flexibly to solve getting where I needed to be when I had to be there.

Walking

I know I hinted needing to stretch my brain muscle again a few weeks ago and this is why. My punchy appointment, my chiropractor has relocated her practice to a slightly less convenient location. A suburb slightly adjacent to my tram line. I am planning to move my chiropractor to Friday’s I think, so I have my carer to drive me and I will have more flexibility on Wednesday’s, but today Young John dropped me to get punched (not advocating for any form of violence), I took a little walk to the train close by and caught a train only a few stops back to Clifton Hill toward the city so I could still get lunch out of the way and tram back towards home for some torture of another kind. No stabby today.

Brain muscle

Side-bar, was in the city yesterday down at the Docklands at an event, to be continued, however, Melbourne logistically is built on a port. Did I mention it’s winter right now? Let me print a picture just quickly in just a few words with pictures. Arctic winds off the bay! I don’t know who picked this location but they are not my favourite, still here are some pictures before I was nearly blown over!

Docklands 1

Docklands 2 Docklands 3 Docklands 4

I showed these pictures to my carer today who stated, Oh I love black and white. It looks great! (Eye roll) That’s not black and white, that was the weather. Oh, how she laughed so hard she cried! I love my carers!

Oh, yes. Where was I?

Today’s lunch, I rang earlier to ask something to be set aside. What can I say? There are perks for consistency. I’ve only been going there for 10 years. An Arancini Bolognaise with side salad with my standard medicine and a coffee Mignon because I felt like it. And like there isn’t enough to see today?

Arancini

Latte

Coffee mignon

Mika 1

Mika 3

I’m hoping this beautiful fluffy thing becomes mine! Or me hers? Soooooo smoochie!

Cheers,
H

Great Day

New Year

Published March 16, 2018 by helentastic67

New Year

I know you can’t tell because it’s probably July or August. Just a guess, in reality and certainly in my world it’s January 4^th, yes.

The crazy life, that is Helen begun. Went to bed early last night, OK, technically 1am, so whatever.

Jamima, lord love her, pestered me all night. Her nose and whiskers on my face, walking all over me not sure where to settle, scratching at my covers, the licks and fang-like bites = Pest.

Sitting on face

Also equals not nearly enough sleep. Woke at 6am and pressed the Mepacs Alarm so someone, somewhere knew I’d made it through the night, barely but I did, still qualifies.

Wake up early

My carer Miss Tina arrived before 10am and I fell into the wall when I got up. Definitely not a good sign.

Washed my hair today, even though it’s not a normal day to do so. It’s going to be hot today. Wet hair will help me stay cooler. Had a light breakfast and by 12pm I went back to bed for a 25-minute power-nap. Jamima came to me straight away. I could practically hear her say. “Hey, what are you doing?”

Wash hair

I confess I growled for her to leave me alone. Slept like the dead, scrambled up, got shoes on, brushed teeth etc and got on my bike.

OK, got on Hell on Wheels and full speed ahead to my parking spot at my last appointment.

Hellonwheels

On the way, encountered a young man (child, whatever) trying to drag his dog off the High Street around the corner. The dog was trying to ‘do’ something. I slowed down enough to tell him “I hope you’re going to pick that up!” Because I could tell he had no intention of doing so.

Dog poop

He muttered something to do with my mouth. I didn’t hear but he’s lucky I was running late for my pick-up.

Had the ‘Go-Slow’ all the way. Where people are just dawdling along, taking their sweet-ass time, chatting on the phones, I had a text beeping and reminding me it was neglected, but I went knowing full well it was Young John. I was late.

I parked at the Acupuncturist, managing not to smash my head into the pole at the front. (Because I don’t see it!) Took my flag inside so it wouldn’t get stolen. Make joke to have fun with the flag in my absence. You heard me.

Need walking stick today, can’t text, too many distractions around. Walk to the designated location and see Young John is waiting for me.

Getting into taxi

Felt like a Princess as I just walked right up to the taxi, opened the door and got in. He was on the phone to one of his taxi driver buddies on speaker.

Feel like a princess

Young John spent the weekend in hospital as he had a nasty infection that required surgery and had started to go septic.

Lift to my favourite café, it’s closed until Mid-January. Damn it! But really, it’s the only time they close, find alternative.

Coffee and huge Rumball – lunch. Rumball sub-standard, sad.

Don’t people know how to make a rumball? They should not be the size of a golf ball, for starters, but onward.

Rum balls

It’s now 2pm, time to hustle to Chiropractors.

“I’m well adjusted!” Yeah, she chants…

Short walk, short tram ride. Some serious texting, another short walk. Get stabbed – eight times.

OK otherwise known as Acupuncture. Made a call (I was in a separate room today) to register my ongoing interest in a Community Housing waitlist. Took four of my own needles out as I needed to pee. Not the first time.

Acupunture

Scooter ride home past the scene of the earlier crime.

Sometimes, just sometimes, I want to be wrong. He did not clean up after his dog.

Stopped down the street to chat to Matt who is building the apartments. His son 21, who has Autism was also there and his carer.

Building site

Brief stop at landlords to chat to their grandkids, “What did Santa bring?” And home around 6pm. Bring in washing and water the back garden.

Now inside…

Arrive home

Today’s Lunch – 14th February 2018

Published February 14, 2018 by helentastic67

Todays lunch 1402

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

Having to fight a migraine since Monday when I had a call from my mum while in the taxi. (Yes, I love her but we do not communicate well at times) and prompting Young John to ask why I let her speak to me so?

Cranky mum

Have had a final push with all things NDIS and it needs to be said, because on the upside and because my mum has likely now spoken to every single person at the NDIA, she squashed someone’s incompetence and stopped me potentially being blacklisted by the NDIA!

NDIS

Any wonder I have a migraine! So really intend to enjoy lunch today!

Today’s offering (forget the name!) is marinated Mediterranean vegetables with a side salad
and my medicine!

Lunch Medicine

And if no-one has said it today? Happy fucking Valentines!

Valentines

Cheers,
H

P.S. here’s a yummy frozen yoghurt thing I had last Friday!
I’m converted!

Frozen Yoghurt

Cheers,
H

Today’s Lunch – 7th February 2018

Published February 7, 2018 by helentastic67

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

Now, you all should be aware by now Melbourne is dealing with summer and while my happy place is 25 degrees, today it’s 37 degrees and I’m out in it!

These are the days hellonwheels serves me best. Particularly because I had to stop at a post office to collect a parcel. And then when I parked outside acupuncture I had to ask the lovely Angela to take the parcel inside. (For security) I already take my flag in so it doesn’t get stolen. It’s happened once, it’s not happening again!

So, then as I watched a tram go past I received a message from Young John, he couldn’t help me today! On that topic, was in the Young John taxi Monday when his wife rang. Young Betty told me they were not going to move back to Greece! (Thank God!) She calls him each day when she finishes work (she is a nurse) and they chat on speaker phone so I always get to give him some cheek and chat to Young Betty.

So, back to lunch.

Today with limited time to scramble, I have a lovely pancetta quiche with side salad and my standard medicine. No pretty leaf on top today. Tobey must be at lunch. No! He’s on holidays! How dare he! (note, not a question)