Hell on Wheels

All posts in the Hell on Wheels category

Comedy

Published December 6, 2019 by helentastic67

Comedy

You have all heard comedy is the best medicine. Well, it’s probably not going to cure cancer or get my Pap Smear done. But however, I’m just suggesting laughing is better than crying.

Patch Adams

I will record comedy on late night TV on my Toppy (Topfield) and these days as my kitchen, lounge and dining area is all in one. I will put on some comedy while I cook, for company. A young Aussie comedian is talking about how hard it is to get a fitted sheet on a bed. So,

 

In the last place I lived I had three bedrooms; I know rich right! No, it was a dump, it was hot and the landlord was a creep. But it allowed me to have a study and a spare room with a single bed for when friends or family stayed over.

The sheet changing day, I would have my morning carer take the sheets off, so I could get them in the machine, then on the line. I would usually get out clean sheets and put them on the bed so my next carer could just get stuck in. Mostly. This particular day I had gotten distracted, didn’t get them out. My next carer arrived, no sheets. She asked which colour I wanted and I suggested she choose. Honestly, I am in my ‘Oh white sheets place, I get it now’ faze and the other set I have is say a French Chocolate-grey. (Yes! I’m that chick)

Now, also whatever sheet is in the washing machine, the other goes on the bed. Two weeks on, two weeks off. I wear pyjamas, so it’s not an eeeww moment. I told her to pick.

She called to me from the bedroom to the lounge several times and not waiting to be distracted, I suggested she choose.

I thought I was empowering her to be independent. I’m like so, made to be a mum, right? This carer is still my regular and I really love her. She is often mistaken as my daughter, but that’s another story.

Eventually, she came to me with a barrage of questions and I put what I was doing aside and went with her to the bedroom. I got to the door and stopped.

“Are you sure these are for this bed?” she asked me.

The sheets were light purple, they went on the single bed. Oh, sweet Jesus! I just laughed.

I told her I was laughing with her, not at her and she informed me how hard it had been to get it on the bed.

But she didn’t find it as funny as I had. I suggested I wouldn’t do it to her again, however I did ask if she struggled again, could she come get me so I could watch.

I call this carer my Girl Friday and these days she is also my Girl Wednesday and once a month, my Girl Tuesday. We laugh a lot as we had built up the rapport to do that which is nice.

More about my Girl Friday another day.

Playing the Disability Card

Published December 2, 2019 by helentastic67

Playing the Disability Card

There are times when I have to play my disability card to get results. Sometimes I throw it out there and I have to hope for the best, because it can very quickly be taken out of my hands (in this case, just the once) as I can’t control everything once it gets away from me.

You know that time “You attract more bees with honey?” and I’m sure there’s something about putting innocent bystanders in a situation where they witness something happen and you have to hope someone comes to your defense.

Like today for example.

Buses have replaced trams on my tram route while roadworks are being completed. Today, while leaving my acupuncturist, I saw three buses go past and seeing none anytime soon. I walked about three tram stops. I’ve walked further, in fact the whole way home, but I had an evening adventure planned that I had to save some of my spoons for.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spoon_theory

So, I saw a bus (tram) pull up to a stop and I stepped it up a little to make it to the bus. If I couldn’t get to the front door of the bus near the driver, maybe I’d make it to the back door. I got to the door half way down the bus and I saw the teenage school boys (I presume they said nothing to the driver to ask he to wait for me, Yes? They had seen me coming) the door started to close, so I put my walking stick in the door. A woman stepped forward to stop the doors closing and yet the bus started to move.

Oh dear!

I tugged at my walking stick; it really was stuck. I could see some people on the bus standing in the isle call and look towards the driver. The bus stopped, thankfully and I put my right foot up on the floor of the bus using my right hand pulled myself up. My walking stick now dangling from my wrist strap.

A woman in a seat near the door moved to get up and I thanked her and told her I was only going two stops. The bus driver appeared at the door behind me asking what was stuck in the door?

 

I explained, I had wanted to catch the bus and my walking stick had been stuck in the door. He didn’t say anything, he just looked ‘put-out’. He got back into his seat and behind me someone else offered me a seat. Word passed down I wasn’t going far anyway.

Once off the bus, I saw a man in high-vis, when I asked him about the roadworks back in Clifton Hill and if it meant they would be completing the accessible tram stop on this route, he had no idea and had simply gone where he had been told and worse still, did not normally do this area, so really had no idea whatsoever. He just directed every question to the PTV (Public Transport Victoria) website and phone number.

Guess I’ve got another thing to add to my list tomorrow. But it just goes to show, people did come to my aid when I needed it and I don’t ever know who they are.

Now, while you read this post, who had a vision/image of an old lady like Mrs Magoo with the grey hair and grey dress being dragged beside a bus by her walking stick?

Yeah! Me too! That could have gone so much worse as the cord around my wrist often gets twisted on pretty tightly, making it rather challenging to get it off in a hurry.

 

Failing

Published November 29, 2019 by helentastic67

Failing

I am part of a Brain Injury group (if you have followed special links and such you would be able to learn the things these groups have achieved) I feel a little like everything I’m trying to achieve is failing or falling short, because I’m being undermined or sabotaged by  people who do not understand the meaning or importance of returning a call, a message or email (is it just me?), is it that other people with Brain Injuries or one other people are not as efficient as I am?

Think I’ve worked this one out.

BUT, WHAT THE FUCK! (Feeling frustrated) happened to common decency that people are all so busy they can’t respond in a timely manner?

I’m fucking busy, they are winning at LIFE ONE HANDED! I’m nearly ready to give up on quality control and giving a fuck, aren’t I?

I just don’t want people to slip through the cracks and then have to be patient while they complain how bad life is.

When do I get to care less? Unfortunately, that will mean I will feel like I’m failing.

Good Mental Health

Published November 25, 2019 by helentastic67

Good Mental Health

Sometimes having to rely on carers is detrimental to my Good Mental Health. So, in case you had been imagining having carers makes up for being one-handed in life. It really doesn’t.

It often requires a skill set, not everyone with a disability has. I mostly have carers older than I am. It’s not by choice, that’s what it is. I’m not complaining, it’s good.

However, I find older carers sometimes think they know best, so do things how they want to. The downside on occasion is when they don’t listen. They are not there to deal with the consequences.

Some carers only see me when I’m upright, chatty and engaged. They don’t see me when I’m not coping. They are not there when I have to bring my washing inside and hang it, so it has a chance of drying on racks.

Some items in Winter can take days to dry because it’s cold enough to need a heater on, but I have to negotiate spaces around drying racks. My left-hand catches on things as I move around, my left foot catches also. I can easily lose my balance and fall and trust me, no-one around when I have a migraine. Because they don’t limit themselves to the days, I have to suck it up and get shit done.

Migraines will come every day of the week.

Lesson

Published November 22, 2019 by helentastic67

Lesson

Well, today I’ve got a lesson in acronyms, I think it’s been a while, so I’ve got two new ones.

  1. CDC – Feel free to comment as to what you think it is or could be. Feel free to do this even thought you will shortly know what it actually stands for. “Client Direct Care.” Apparently, it’s from Aged Care mentality services. I was given this as a tool to use with one of my carers, who really doesn’t like being told what to do. I often let carers have the benefit of the doubt that they know how to do somethings. If I have a better way, I often share that way with them. I guess, it’s also when I expect them to do that thing my way. I guess it’s like saying “My home, My rules.

  1. BDM – A friend suggested it’s not an acronym I should be using with my carers. She’s probably correct. “BIRTHS, DEATHS, MARRIAGES” and I spent an hour on the phone, I may never get back, just to get my Birth Certificate. I think the moment I rang; I was in this automated loop advising me they had an unexpectedly high volume of calls and that I could do stuff on-line. I can’t fit it in to go in, in person and wait for an hour. But, employ some people, stupid Government. Can’t wait until not every household in Australia has a computer. To be fair, that’s already a reality. My dad’s only just gotten a smart phone. Also, several hours of my life I will never get back. But!

 

Aussie Slang

Published November 18, 2019 by helentastic67

Aussie Slang

It occurs to me I’ve not yet given any of the Aussie Slang a voice, or exposure. I’m sure other countries have words or phrases they use, that only locals use.

The evening cool news program I watch is sold as “News delivered differently” and it’s for the ‘young’ and by the young, I mean not old and by young, I mean me.

They will have a panel of different people who have different strengths and backgrounds. There is always a comedian to bring a bit of light and shade.

Then, there will be guests who often share terms that they have not encountered anywhere but here.

One such pearler… Shit-tone

Yes, you heard.

It means more than can be quantified.

You are welcome.

Dress Code

Published November 15, 2019 by helentastic67

Dress Code

I’ve received an invite to an event, I did put my hand up to go, so it’s not like I’m special.

The event is at a place called ‘Government House’ without mentioning what the event was in aid of, the point is it sounds special and impressive, right.

Also, it has a dress code.

Now, I don’t know if any of you realise, but I do not have an exciting wardrobe these days. If unsure, No, I don’t.

The invite states

“Men: Lounge suit.

Women: Accordingly,”

Um? Do I get free reign? I’m taking it to mean I don’t need to wear a suit or dress, but I should dress appropriately.

Not like I’ve got my Hoochie-on or a like a slag. I don’t know where ‘Hoochie’ came from but, a slag is rather 80’s term for a woman with loose morals.

To be continued…

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