AVM

All posts tagged AVM

Busy

Published October 18, 2021 by helentastic67

Busy


I have never known how to not be busy. I’ve always been busy. When I was 16 years old (yes! back when there were dinosaurs!). In the 1980’s, I was a full-time high school student, I worked part time as a checkout chick. I was doing hours of art folio preparation to get into college, I was a live-in babysitter to baby sister and I definitely didn’t have time for a social life or boyfriend. I did the household ironing and more than my share of the housework.

All while planning to be a poor art student, didn’t do a 4,000-word assignment until my first year of tertiary. I was still living at home then and it was all hand written. No computers, so many drafts, then only the battle of whiteout back then. You kids don’t know how good you have it.

So, it shouldn’t be a surprise that when I moved to Melbourne to be a poor art student when I was nineteen, that while being a full-time student, I transferred my supermarket job so I was working part time and being 100% responsible for my shopping and cooking. I introduced a little social outing in the form of going to clubs. I met one woman at college that went to a big commercial club very close to me. In simple terms, it was a very big wog club that was like a meat market. Huge dance floor in the middle of the room, upstairs, you spent much time going for a walk around the perimeter with a friend. As you travelled around a line forward and you just kept to the left. To your right was a line of people going the other way. As people passed on your right A guy’s face would loom into you to go for a kiss. Brushing them aside, all of a sudden, they would be pulled away by their girlfriend who had them by the hand and asking why they seemed to be holding them up. This is not why I stopped going to this kind if club.

The first few years I studied in Melbourne (two years actually) and I would go home long weekends and maybe a week of term break.

At Christmas, I’d transfer my supermarket job back to the country and also pick up seasonal work in the farm of blueberry packing. The last season I did some picking too, but while very stressful, packing paid better.

But to take a break from study and be at home in the country over Christmas meant I was literally working from 6am until 9pm with only a few hours off in the middle. Not even after college, I picked up some work in retail and clubs, which I literally set the hours according to what I considered it required to ‘get the job done’. So, my weeks, day and night were full.

I guess I’m saying life before my disability was always hectic, maybe why little symptoms I could later contribute to my AVM diagnosis went unchecked. So busy, my life has always been busy and I’m sure it’s not the last time I will cover this topic, or topics.




Who Am I?

Published September 13, 2021 by helentastic67

Who am I?

My name is Helen, I started blogging in 2015. Since then, I’ve written over 600+ blog posts and acquired over 280 followers all around the world.

I’ve really let my blog speak for itself and not really marketed myself in any commercial way to gain a larger following.

Pre-Covid I was sharing three posts a week. Hellonwheels, is me doing brain injury differently. I’ve had my brain injury for over 48 years, only learning I even had my Arterial Venous Malformation (AVM) at aged 34 when I was really stressed, as a result of workplace bullying. After diagnosis and treatment, I have been left with stroke like symptoms.

It’s not easy being a high-functioning Acquired Brain Injury (ABI) and it’s even harder to explain. I have a good memory, a love for music and food – things some people with brain injuries can’t enjoy.

I’m a single-barren spinster, often including further descriptions, straight and fucking fussy!

I have strong opinions, which may or may not appeal to everyone. This is why I include stories of my past, little moments of life, foodie posts and beautiful things from nature. 

Life is short and often few moments or opportunities go past, so I try to share the ones that I have.

I hope you will take a moment to look up Like, Share and Follow. 

Emphasis On ‘A’

Published February 14, 2020 by helentastic67

Emphasis on ‘A’

Then, for the first time really ever, I dated. I dated a guy, the emphasis on ’A’ and like usual, some bitch had gotten to him first and he was more Roadkill than anything else.

We did the date thing for whatever and I had, had my diagnosis of my AVM and didn’t know what life and treatment would bring, but I had hopes I meant something to him, more than nothing.

After a third date that was more about us being ‘friends’ and watching films at my house (because my house had a heater and a cat!) etc.

*Sidebar; Imagine watching ‘Blue Dress’ with a new boyfriend, awkward!

So, I set about solving the boyfriend’s issues, trying to be a supportive girlfriend, hoping he would do the same with my treatment and recovery.

Let’s do a stocktake: –

  1. Alcoholic – fixed that. 🗸
  2. Separated, not divorced. 🗸
  3. Permanent Resident in Australia. 🗸
  4. Support him parenting his daughter. 🗸

This is starting to sound really bitter, which I’m not. In reality, he had his plans and I had mine and his did not include me.

It wasn’t until after we broke up and he was moving out to interstate for work that I learnt his mother did not even know I existed.

So, lesson learned.

If he had loved me, he would have still been here, with me and lord love that child, but not being a co-parent with the family make-up of that family, I dodged a bullet. Really!

I would have given it a red-hot go but I’m lucky I didn’t have too.

 

 

Groundhog Day

Published December 30, 2019 by helentastic67

Groundhog Day

It fucking happened again. I know I started with my favourite word, but you shouldn’t assume there will be lots in this blog post. I’m just emphasising the fact that it’s like a new round of people are coming into my sphere, (didn’t know I had one like I’m a planet, right) but every now and again, I’m somewhere I wouldn’t normally be and new people will ask me ‘what have you done to your arm?’ Every fucking day, I leave the house and I generally mention it’s because of my brain injury, because it’s the perfect way for people to learn sometimes Brain Injury walks and moves amongst them like a normal person.

Sometimes, brain injury looks like this hot mess that I look like. So, I tell people, depending on their response I might, no will follow it up with my standard follow-on that my brain injury is NOT SELF INFLICTED.

Because, the second assumption is that all brain injuries are and I will describe a little more info. So, it’s understood how I have had my AVM (Arteriovenous Malformation) all my life and didn’t know it until I was thirty-four.

Then there’s the next round of questions. Well intended, sometimes the way I respond, I hope they read my mood correctly and stop asking questions.

Maybe? No! Don’t be ridiculous.

A few weeks ago, at my favourite café where I go because, well I love it. The staff have gotten to know and I don’t get treated like a weirdo/freak and I don’t get the questions about ‘what have you done to yourself?’

I was in the room, I’m a permanent fixture. Two men came into the room and asked me straight away. The question, don’t ask me to repeat it. And I did in layers of –

  1. Brain Injury
  2. Not self-inflicted
  3. Had it all my life, just didn’t know
  4. Bullied in a stressful work environment

After he had taken all of this in, I realised I’d disclosed way more to a complete stranger than I normally would have and it had all happened so naturally, I hadn’t stopped (he didn’t look horrified), but I felt a little raw and vulnerable.

I had a moment of weakness and almost cried. He obviously realised and he leaned forward and grazed the back of his knuckle against my cheek and told me “You’ll be OK”

And I was really surprised. Now, I don’t want to need to remind people however, if you made it this far? Please hit “LIKE”

Hate feeling needy, but we all have needs and, in this case, we all need validation.

Twenty – Three

Published March 4, 2019 by helentastic67

Twenty Three

Twenty-Three

Today, I’m going to take everyone back in a time capsule or a time travelling machine to when I was about twenty-three.

Time machine

Ah, good times, right? Well, we shall see. I’ll let you decide.

As you know, when I was younger in my twenties, I worked in nightclubs in Melbourne. Until recently, I thought I’d worked in clubs for a whole ten years, but when I did some ‘hard maths’ I realized it was only five years.

Nightclub

My club ‘work’ (it’s still the right team if my output of hours and efforts did not equal my income) was several day’s a week and as many night’s as 2-5 nights a week. Despite my best efforts, at one point I found myself without a roof over my head. I had been living with my older sister and when we finished the lease on a house, she found a place quickly and moved out and then I struggled.

Homeless

Apparently, it’s really hard to imagine when I said ‘I don’t drink, so won’t becoming home drunk and vomiting’ and don’t lay around all day is not much of a sales pitch when promoting one’s self as a prospective housemate to strangers.

Looking for a new home

Having a good club network of friends, I managed to find a space on someone’s lounge floor for a small amount of money so I wasn’t out on the street.

Living on the lounge

These kids were younger than me and the meals I cooked and shared were the only meals I saw concocted from their kitchen. Needless to say, I maintained my day/night sleep deprived routine.

Sleep deprived

After a month or all of my house-hunting efforts and my day/night work routine, the kids I stayed with asked me to go stay elsewhere, as the landlord (one of the girl’s father) didn’t want me there.

House Hunting

On the Tuesday, my day routine of distributing night club passes, took me to Chapel Street South Yarra and Greville Street Prahan. I dropped into visit my sister, who worked in that area. She gave me a very hard time, that I hadn’t found anywhere to live.

Sisters

I then ran into my cousin with her shopping bags of groceries. I was so happy to see a friendly face. I asked her to go get a coffee with me, as my sister had so upset me. When I saw her friendly face, I burst in to tears. When she went to put her groceries in the car and come back to me, the weirdest thing happened.

crying

I got a splitting migraine and plus I peed my pants. What? I know!

Briefly, visited the café to use the toilet, then my cousin gave me a lift back to where I was staying. I made it inside feeling very seedy. I hadn’t eaten all day, other than my spirulina (for breakfast). The toilet was occupied, so I threw up on the carpet. What? Are you not meant to do it there?

Feeling seedy

Have you ever had a headache so bad you couldn’t make a simple decision not to throw up green spirulina on cream carpet? Yeah! It was that bad.

Bad Headache

I made it into the toilet only to collapse on the floor, one of my temporary house-mates actually had to come into the small toilet to lift me and get me out, because I just couldn’t move.

Collapse on floor

Thankfully, they put me to bed, closed the blinds and turned off the light and with a little instruction from me they rang my mum.

Call Mum

To this day, when the shit hits the fan, I call my mum. Have I mentioned, I love my mum?

Love Mum

Mum was on the road within an hour to come get me. Back then, mum still living in my home town in the North East of Victoria. So it took her three hours to get to me and once I was bundled in the front seat with a bucket (that I don’t remember using) we headed back home for another three hours. I don’t recall having much to say all the way home.

Mum to the rescue

Now, to be clear, at the time we put my migraine down to MSG food poisoning as it was and still to this day, THE WORST MIGRAINE I’VE EVER HAD.

Worst Migraine

I was bedridden for a week and I didn’t eat. I remember visits to a chiropractor most days and on one visit being muscle tested to work out what I could eat. One morning mum insisted I eat and she bought in some green grapes. Good, right?

Bed ridden

Mmmmm, we arrived at the chiropractor’s office, not far from mum’s in time for me to fling open the car door and deliver those grapes onto his driveway. A woman was doing her gardening and commented I really needed to see the chiropractor.

Chiropractor

One morning mum insisted I get in the shower, I remember getting into the small shower and just standing there unable to move. Eventually, mum came to help me. Did I mention I love my mum?

Assist in shower

During that week, you might wonder whey my mum didn’t take me to a doctor or emergency room? Yu know, those moments when you realise a ‘higher power’ (I refer to it as The Universe looking after me. I have few Catholic types who follow my blog) they will think it was odd but anyway. Every time my mum went to call the hospital or the doctor, they were engaged, so we got the message not to go.

Call Doctor

I did notice my head hurt less when I rested it on one side less than the other. Weird right? After a week, I all of a sudden felt a little better, at least good enough to eat something. What did I eat first? I’m such a wog, Salami, then Cabana, OMG I think mum thought I’d be sick, since I’d not eaten for a week.

Such a wog

I remember being very slow to get my energy back, all in all I stayed with mum and my younger sister a whole month. My older sister visited once, insisting I was being lazy and to get my arse back to Melbourne to get a job, so I could find a place to live.

Being Lazy

While at home, you might wonder if I heard from any of my club friends, since I would normally be there from opening (10pm) until the end (5am), I was usually out in those days from anything from 2-5 nights a week. One night, I started to my ‘good-byes’ to friends far earlier than normal and one guy asked me if I was dying. I’d had a cold, Ok. Can’t a girl go home early once in a while?

Have a cold

Correct! No one called me while I was sick to ask how I was. Admittedly, it was before the era of everyone having a mobile phone.

No one called

Interestingly, the Universe really was looking after me while at the time we thought it was MSG food poisoning, after my diagnosis, when I was thirty-four, one of the specialists I went to, was in Sydney and the young lady (who actually hailed from Melbourne) suggested back when I was twenty-three, I likely had a bleed or a leak from my AVM.

AVM

My mother and I agree if I’d been diagnosed back when I was twenty-three, the hospital I was born at in the country, would have had the attitude of ‘No Worries, we can fix that’ and it would have been the worst experience of a guinea pig ever.

No worries

Ironically, when I collapsed that day back in Prahan when I was twenty-three, I wasn’t very far from ‘The Alfred Hospital’ which is eventually where I had my radiation treatment. Mum and I both agree that I was diagnosed at the right time, because the early treatment options that were available to me came to the Alfred and was covered by Medicare.

Diagnosis

So, all in all, I think I was really lucky and my sister, to this day has no idea how serious it was.

No Idea

Confession

Published November 19, 2018 by helentastic67

Confession

Confession

Now, this may come as a bit of a surprise and I realise I’ve yet to do the ‘everyday person’s’ explanation of the difference between TBI/ABI/MY ABI/AVM so presuming I can keep it short and sweet (when have I ever).

Difference

AVM

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m lucky I’ve not had trauma to my brain, I’ve not been cut into (not my brain anyway). This has allowed me the ability to retain a great many things. Memories from before breakfast today, my greater independence financially and my ability to plan and execute. All to which helps me stay independently living by myself. Kapish (I think that is Italian for ‘understand’)

Kapish

However, I think all of the above might work against me sometimes, when dealing with (is there a polite word for this? Anyone?)

INCOMPETENCE

Incompetence

Sweet Jesus!

No really, this week I’ve been asked at a train station if I was staff, and a staff member in uniform had just been talking to me and then this incompetent woman came up to me claiming to be doing a ‘survey’. FARK

Incompetance

What? I’ve gotta do your job too now?

I didn’t get enough sleep last night and by the time I left my chiropractor, my left eye was hurting (that’s my version of a migraine these days, hurts like hell, but allows me to keep getting around to do all my “things”) WHERE ARE MY DRUGS? I left asking the receptionist who was on over the weekend. Most good chiro’s if they don’t fix the problem in that visit and you still have symptoms the following day, they will see you again ‘free of charge.’

Where are my drugs

I was told the two girls (who own the practice) are away for Easter. I enquired who was covering? The Associate? The Associate, is a lovely younger guy I can bond with over “The Walking Dead” and GOT (Game of Thrones) Her reply – “Oh, I don’t know, I haven’t asked him yet.

Receptionist

Do I have to do everything?

Do I have to do everything

Rehab – Part 1

Published October 19, 2018 by helentastic67

Rehab Part 1

Rehab –  Part 1

Ok, not the NA/AA type. But the physio and OT type.

Being part of a Brain Injury community in Melbourne, like anywhere I imagine, I’ve met kids of people with all kinds of brain injuries. I’ve also heard many different stories of where people were and what they could or couldn’t do when they woke up.

There’s the guy who woke from a coma to a song on the radio, “Stairway to Heaven”

WT Hell?

Great song however, inappropriate.

Don’t know how long he was in this coma; however, he is a bit of the num nut. Likely never be independent despite his obvious ability to walk and talk. His thought process and thinking has obviously been affected.

Num nut

Another woke in rehab, unable to walk or talk. This person can do both now however, both are significantly compromised.

I was really lucky, because of the nature of my AVM and course of treatment, everything that happened to me, I had a say in and everything that happened as far as “fall-out” I was completely conscious for and aware of.

There was that moment when my boyfriend came through the lounge room and saw me in only my nightie, leaning down to do something on my laptop on the coffee table and he mentioned my left calf was (well, not there) compared to my right calf.

Laptop

I had been a little oblivious to that and I imagine I had been unable to rely on that leg for strength or stability. But, I have been lucky not to wake in a hospital bed somewhere unable to comprehend what exactly happened.

Waking in hospital

Now, I’m not saying my rehab has been all fun and games. I did struggle because my left arm worked some days and not others for a little while.

I recall days I struggle to do up my shoe laces an another I cried in frustration on trying to put on a bra. I choose not to leave the house without both and when I actually went to see my main specialist about six months after my treatment, he noticed my left arm, I was nursing on my left thigh. He noticed straight away and asked how long it had been like that? I didn’t know, it had come and gone so even my mum who was sitting beside me couldn’t answer. That day he referred me to physio.

Bra

I did some weekly physio and OT appointments and I was set up with exercises to continue at home. I luckily didn’t lose any of that. I do recall a question being asked of me “How do you manage with opening cans?” I told them I managed fine, because at the time I had a boyfriend. After he left I still managed fine.

Physio

Because I’d put the can opener on the tin, take it off, turn the tin a little and put it back on again. And repeat, until I’d opened the damn tin.

Looking back, how did they not realize this is how I would develop Carpel Tunnel?

My people to arrange this were very lax/lazy because funding requires a lot of paperwork and they know the NDIS was coming (one day), so they never bothered to help me get funding. I got my disc bulge and Carpel Tunnel.

Entering my brief time as an inpatient in rehab, I was an outpatient meaning I would go once a week across town to Caulfield. At the time I lived in Clifton Hill, where I can every Wednesday and I was referred to Caulfield, as it was in the “catchment” of my hospital. (The Alfred Hospital)

Notwithstanding, my mum would drive three and half hours to Melbourne, arriving just in time to scoop me up and get us both to Caulfield.

Long drive

Have I mentioned how much I love my mum?

I digress, where was I?

But I think those early days of physio/OT for me were maybe too soon, or something, not sure. But I struggled with the “make your arm loooong” In an Irish accent to grab that thing. But eventually after about nine years, my walking and hyperextension was being addressed and it was on my side of town. Through a different hospital.

Over the last fifteen years, I think I’ve been to most (not all), but most of the public hospitals for one thing or another.

Hospital visit

Then I found myself at a rehab hospital for two whole weeks as an inpatient.

I’m just saying.

I do not cope well in hospitals where I’m not allowed to go home and seriously I had appointments I maintained out, several days each week and had visitors.

I would often return from my standard weekly appointments with my keep cup in hand and as the lift door opened to the nurse’s station, they would all look up at me. They had insisted with Botox in my calf and a plaster cast on my let.

Calf muscles

Yes, that’s right. Botox in my calf and a cast. They were afraid I would fall over at home. Well, and they didn’t want me getting the cast wet and after two weeks (two different casts) I argued I was getting the cast wet in hospital with the help of four nurses.

So what difference would it make if I was home?

Next

Why I Blog

Published January 26, 2018 by helentastic67

Why I Blog 1

Why I Blog?

If you have been wondering with a weird array of randomness, what Hellonwheels is all about? Wait no longer, this is why, here is the answer.

Logo Hell on wheels

Since my diagnosis in 2007? (I don’t know! It’s been a blur) I’ve met many people with ABI/TBI/general fuckwit-ism and it has led me to query, what means what?

Brain injury

Example;

When I first started going to ABI groups socially, because society loves to put you in contact with people with the “same” issues you have. (Please note eye-roll!) I walked in and young men and old flocked towards me, I felt like a Spice Girl in the mid-90’s. One guy, let’s call him ‘Fred’ (because it’s been a while) made it clear to take me under his wing. We got chatting, as you do and as you do you talk about your life before the ABI.

Spice girls

I mentioned my Club years and that’s always a big topic. But, push came to shove and after a little young woman joined us and I was introduced. Lovely younger lady, also with an ABI. Make mental note; got to be careful or might end up ‘paired-up’ with another numpty like me before long if I’m not careful. I didn’t say this reason/story would be simple so stay with me.

Numty

Totally worth it, Promise.

Over time, I participated in activities at this group and I supported people and they supported me, so all is well. Became friends with Fred and others outside this group. (it’s inevitable: stuff sticks sometimes) Fred had gotten his TBI from pure fuckwitedness (as I like to consider it) his girlfriend was lucky to be alive having been hit by a car crossing the street. But, unlike her boyfriend, she had not had a typical young adult life, like he had, had before his TBI, because she had, had hers at 17 years-old.

Fuckwitedness

He also liked to bond with me because I had been ‘there’ (Clubs/parties) and I remember it. I wasn’t drunk and off my face like nearly everyone else.

Overtime, I became a bit more of a mentor to Fred. I was friendly to his girlfriend, also she was none the wiser. He was also finding excuses to visit socially. FYI: I don’t socialize at 11pm at night, that’s my time.

Mentor

He even had a gay friend drop him over for a coffee one afternoon on a weekend and I was told to ‘look’ after him.

I hope you are getting that he seemed to have told people, I might have been a potential ‘whatever/girlfriend’ when in reality it was always a HELL NO.

Hell No

I decided to discuss this situation with a friend who worked in the industry who was familiar with all of us and our past history etc, her advice to me was.

‘Oh, you should go out with him, because before his ABI, he had four or five girlfriends at a time. Now he’s only got one or two.’

WTF!

Um, I hope you realise, I would not have dated more than one guy at a time before my diagnosis, let alone date a guy who thought he could date more than one woman at a time, I certainly wouldn’t now.

I am also aware I am no longer some Jennifer Hawkins type, now or before my disability, however I’m still not prepared to lower my standards and just accept some broken bit of road kill.

Body

Make mental note: Explain Helen’s definition of Road Kill later.

Road kill

So, back to my point. Yes, apparently it is said, people retain their personality after their ABI/TBI what did I call it? That they had before their (as above).

Personality

Now, this is why I blog.

If I’ve always had my ABI (AVM), have I developed this personality, because of my AVM or despite my AVM?

BAM! There I’ve done it.

Crazy Lady Hormones and AVM

Published November 15, 2017 by helentastic67

Crazy lady hormones

Crazy Lady Hormones and AVM

This weeks “Today’s Lunch” has been postponed until next week.

This post is going to be exactly what you imagine it will be. So, if you are a guy (not sure I have many male followers to worry about) but if you’re still reading, strap yourself in!

My periods started at the usual time as most girls in my early teens. What we never realised is that those special blue pills that stop us killing men? (commonly known as Naprogesic) are blood thinners.

You add ½ a dozen of those, every month. Something probably happened more often than I realised, but didn’t realise exactly what, it meant was that in a perfect storm I was probably lucky I didn’t have a stroke.

Blood Thinners

One morning not long before my diagnosis I recall a bitterly cold morning, getting up to go to work. Conveniently a day Aunt Irma (IT Crowd reference) was coming to visit.

Aunt Irma

I conveniently had to wash my hair that morning and being so cold I made sure I had it hot.

Turns out water also makes your blood thin. When I had more blood in and around my brain, than normal I would get dizzy and I mean I was dizzy, I recall drying my hair a little with a towel and putting it up (in a bun that I still wear as my style) I recall drying and putting pyjamas back on, setting my alarm and going back to bed to sleep it off. I woke a few hours later to restart my day.

When I was finally diagnosed, I was told emphatically NO MORE BLOOD THINNERS!

After several years on and off the steroids (Dexamethazone) for brain swelling, sometimes my period just didn’t come for 6 months or more.

About 4 years ago, I actually went on the pill, because once a month I was an emotional mess. Rather than the previous five months, I just wanted to kill someone. I traded up to a whole day where EVERYTHING upset me EVERYTHING MADE ME CRY.

Crying

Get up, get undressed, cry! Get in the shower, cry! Get out of the shower, cry! Get the point?

Not let Helen take her second coffee in the cinema when she’d previously taken her first coffee in. Cry!

Have I mentioned, you don’t mess with me and coffee? No seriously!

Coffee 1

About a year ago, I came off the pill to find out if I was menopausal. Yeah, that word. I was only 43 years old and no I wasn’t and still am not, to my knowledge.

Menopausal

Turns out it was probably a good thing I didn’t meet my soul mate (yeah, I believe in that crap!) because I might have wanted children. I always imagined I would, but if it had I might not be here at all.

Soulmate

When you’re pregnant ladies. (presuming only the ladies kept reading) your bodies blood volume doubles. My AVM would not have coped. If my child had made it (there has been no child) I might not have made it.

So, babies, right? Not for everyone.

Privilege not a right.

Anyway, a lot of background to get to my point!

Had a bit of a tummy ache this week. Would have been mistaken to think it was Aunt Irma and except she visited last week for all of about 12 minutes. Felt that way anyway. Think I sneezed a few times and it was over.

Meanwhile the app on my phone last week had told me, it was due in six days, on the 2nd February, 2017 and its currently early October.

Don’t know when you’ll be reading this but my point ABI/AVM/Crazy Lady hormones.

Not happy Jan.

Oh, and with the no blood thinners, it’s hard, I just upgrade to Opiates – Oxy Norm!

The End…

 

Communication – Part 1

Published August 11, 2017 by helentastic67

Communication

Communications – Part 1

I’ve been told/accused really of being terrible at communicating. I think verbally and written I communicate my thoughts rather succinctly.

Some years ago, I was expressing this issue with a friend (let’s call him Fred). Now Fred to be clear has several TBI’s (Traumatic Brain Injury) from a car accident, but let’s not hold that against him.

TBI

He suggested I do a course he did in communications. Fred told me he had thought he was really good at communicating, but having participated in the course, he realised even he could improve.

I told him, I had no time to do a course, no cash and no ability to get to a College or University. He told me not to worry about it. It was FREE and she would come to me! What? Sounds too good to be true. Fred gave me her number and I rang her and it wasn’t an actual “Course” but I think it was more of a study. I had to explain, who I was how I had “gotten” my ABI (Acquired Brain Injury). Keeping in mind I was born with my AVM (Arterial Venus Malformation).

Listening skills

I thought I was having a decent conversation who actually seemed excited to be working with me. That sounded weird, but seriously.

Then she asked me when I’d had my CAR ACCIDENT?

Car accident

What?

I was not eligible for this communication course.

What’s worse than that is, this list of things.

  1. I don’t have a communication problem
  2. People have a hearing/listening problem.
  3. All of these “research” trials are based on people with TBI’s because they can dip into the TAC bucket of money.
  4. No one is doing any kinds of study on the different kinds of ABI/TBi’s and how they are different.

 

I think my communication is different to other types of ABI, particularly TBI (no offense to people with TBI’s). So many more things wrong with this…

failure_to_communicate_meme

 

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