Secret Message

Secret Message

Today, a little secret addition, a subliminal message, imbedded in each post for a bit, see if you can pick it and comment. Hang on there and all will be revealed. (No evil intent I assure you all)

As last week I promised an update on my latest fall and a surgery. Generally, when all I have to do Is put my left foot back, I will be guaranteed to fall. Without fail.

I had taken just a step out of my shower in my ensuite and noticing water snaking across the floor I twisted slightly to reach for the mop that resides there just for this purpose and I think I put a rib out while losing my balance, I started to fall. Like in slow-motion, straight down onto my Ass. I luckily manage not to flail my arms and legs about so that’s something. I did collect the shower stool on my way down on my left, in two places on my back. That didn’t tickle, even weeks later.

My carer came hearing the ruckus and asked two very important questions. 1) Was I alright? Yes, as I wriggled and made squelching noises on the floor of the shower having just missed the ridge of the shower base. That could have been very uncomfortable. And 2) did I want her to call an Ambulance? Hell NO! FYI, they do not get you up and set you on your feet then leave. They get you up and take you to hospital.

My left leg was caught on the edge of the shower screen, the bathroom heater had to be turned off as I would like, burn my left leg before I felt it. Wet! Naked! And trying to work out how I was going to get up. (Try not to imagine that.) It took half an hour for me to commit, the best way for me to get up is to make things worse before they get better. I had to grab my left arm and roll over onto my stomach. Then, up onto my right hand and knees. Bathmat under my knees because the tiles really hurt. I could not straighten my body and I called my carer who I had, had to direct to sit in the chair I had asked her to bring in to my already cosy ensuite. It ended up giving her something to do as the things she had suggested I grab hold of would have made things worse not better. Once more upright, I lifted my right foot to put it under me, my right elbow on the edge of the handbasin and I levered myself up. Ironically, by the time my carer was assisting to dry me, I was already dry.

I had two small patches on my beck, hip and near my scapula that required our family’s Gypsy cream. (To be explained later) Oh, bruised and sore, actually sorer than my bruises suggested I continued my morning as usual and my carer departed. I undid the appointments I had been scheduling at the start of my next shift just close to home. My next carer arrived and as I groaned and swore my way out of my apartment, down the lift, I got halfway to the front door to go out and do my shopping and my carer asked just the right number of times before it was crystal clear I should stay home and let her do my hunter/gathering.

Later that afternoon, I had my weekly chiro appointment, I did get out for and I couldn’t even lie down on the table. She was kind enough to bring the table up to me, before putting it back down. The powers I refer to as the rocket ship launcher she used a lot back in 2011 when I was awaiting disc bulge surgery.

So, I posted a comment about my fall to socials, you know like you do, I got a comment from a family member suggesting I get a bathmat. As in the rubber kind, I replied “have one. Didn’t fucking help!” Is it wrong I imagined family might call to check if I was OK? That did not happen.

On the upside, being sore and bruised meant I could stay home and avoid getting the plague. Elective surgeries get pushed to the back after all the crazy Covid restrictions, don’t need to get bumped by getting the Plague now.

Had the surgery at a Women’s hospital, so being that I’ll keep the details to a minimum. Not a question. Before the surgery, I was told it would hurt as much as surgery to my Virginia. Ladies, sorry if your eyes just watered. Any male readers? Deal with it! Um, meanwhile, thankfully I have not had that kinda surgery, so I wanted another example. She walked away. OK then.

So, a few more weeks I’ve been mostly housebound, happily catching up on TV and sleeping. There is never enough.

This was my second surgery I’ve had this year, but you will need to wait to hear about that one. It was far less torturous in compassion. To be continued…

Lastly, anyone asks what my surgery was about. I’ve been telling them these two words. “Boob Job! NOT GETTING A BOOB JOB!” But it leads to very amusing comments.

Can’t Pick ‘Em

Can’t Pick ‘Em

More recently when I had my regular carer away on holidays for two weeks, I had a replacement carer. This lady had three shifts that week of more than three hours each shift to cover.

On the Tuesday, I had carer “A”, she quickly unpacked all of her emotional baggage. There is a tendency for friendly banter. She was very new to being a carer and she was telling me all about her husband’s first wife’s impact on her marriage and how he didn’t understand why at her age, she had gone back to study.

She was in her fifty’s and she had chosen to change her career and being a support worker requires qualifications. She was expecting me to be her mental health care provider. 

On the way home from this shift, I received a text that this carer “A” would cover the rest of my shifts while my regular was away. I knew I would not cope so put a block on her. It seems to mean, but I’ve worked out in my short time which carers I can cope with and which ones I can’t.

Legendary

Legendary

There are times, few but worthy when I fall over. Now again, I seem like despite my disabilities you may think I wouldn’t fall over like a toddler or a chick. But I can, I do and I will.

It just always depends on where I am and the circumstances. Some years ago, I was standing beside my bed and fell over. No reason just went sideways to my left and landed like a sack of potatoes.

You may ask, you were so close to your bed, why not throw yourself at the bed, why not throw yourself at the bed? Yes, because that’s how it happens. When you fall, it’s usually a bit of a surprise, so in a way I’m lucky I didn’t land on the bed as I would have collected the hard timber on the side, which would have hurt despite not being as far away as the hard floor I landed on.

However, this Sunday night I had a bit of a tricky stumble. Tripping up on a slipper (it is tragic) and I stumbled backward. Have I mentioned if all I have to do is put my left foot back I won’t fall. Yeah so, I fall because I can’t trigger that response quick enough. But on this occasion, I landed with my back against the kitchen pantry door and made a slow slide downward to sit on the floor. It was like a slow slide, however halfway down I thought, “oh, I’ve got a plastic jug of cold water in my hand.” I briefly contemplated throwing it away from me onto the floor but ended up still holding it as I sat on the floor.

Beside me was a three tier Ikea trolley and I collected it under my right arm. The jug of water jiggled a little water out onto the floor. As I sat there thinking the jug was mostly still full, in my hand and I was dry.

I’M A LEGEND RIGHT.

My carers all agree. Hit like if you do too.

Best Intentions

Best Intentions

You know those things we say or do that seem offensive, racist or ageist and we didn’t intend it that way? Here’s one of those posts.

Years ago, my older sister sent me one of those really cool bags that you keep inside your bag or car, or you know, somewhere handy. When you go into a supermarket or shop you pull it out and unfold or open it to put your purchases in. Once home, unpacks fold and return it to your bag for next time. My sister called it a ‘nanna bag!’

See? Not intending to be ageist but nailing it. Nannas are not wrong, that bag was so handy, then it shrank a bit after years of torture and washing. I’ve replaced it with a new model. This one has owls on it! It’s pretty cool, I got it from Wilbur. 🙂

(20+) Wilbur | Facebook

The only problem it’s worse than trying to fold a map one handed, but I’m really lucky these days I’ve got two Japanese carers who live for this stuff.

Clap for Carers / Asian woman applauding at home in quarantine

See? Seeming racist.

Not meaning to be however, they seem to have infinite patience to fold, fold, tuck, fold and well, it seems to be their ‘Jam’. Like their ‘happy place’.

So, while not meaning to be ageist or racist, I’m noticing some vintage/nationalities have and contain certain skill sets or temperaments I don’t have and I have my own skill set and appreciate those that have the skills I lack.

Annoyingly, now I no longer have either of my Japanese carers so need a new one.

Wrong

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.

Advocacy

Advocacy

Recently, someone who doesn’t have a disability thought to share her rather shitty opinion with me that I was not an advocate. She’s not someone who has even met me, nor now will she ever. After she listed the reasons why she didn’t like me (when I say she told me she didn’t like me, I mean that she said ‘she didn’t hate me because I had a disability and she didn‘t hate me for other reasons but she hated me for some other reason she listed”) Interesting that during 2020 I was the only person she claimed she ever chatted to, now she has no-one.

Anyway, she felt the need to inform me I wasn’t a great advocate. So, while I’m not suggesting I’m creating world peace (gotta save something for later right?), I’m doing some of the little things to make life easier.

So, here’s an example:

I’ve been part of a self-advocacy group for 8+ years now. They do the big projects and some local day to day stuff. These things don’t pay. It’s monthly meetings and lots of emails and reading and things you do in your own time. It’s a good way to stay connected to a community so you can share problems and discuss with each other how we solve some of these problems. Some problems have systemic change required, some informing the public (who don’t want to know) and some is just how we are better prepared so when we get harassed by a ticket inspector on a train that we don’t move to scramble for our ID or ticket.
Anyway, during 2020, they started rewarding us with a pocket money incentive every month. I can’t get ‘paid’ as it;

1. Impacts the pension.
2. Would have my super fund completely taken from me as it would be imagined I can one day return to work.

So I had to emphasise to the powers that be that not everyone can be paid. Not everyone will start a business, have a career (from their ABI) and life will not resume as normal and I was more than happy to take my pocket money in the form of a vouchers and I mentioned about four retailers where I could happily do some damage.
They are
        Coles/Myer
        Officeworks
        JB Hi Fi
There are options, all the things are there and the person with the job to find out if I could do this, got back to me with some calls and it was a yes. Now, ladies, if you get $150 once or twice a year, what do we spend it on?

That’s right! BRAS! These days I get new bra’s every two years, and it’s a painful and expensive endeavour.

My carer that I go do ‘stuff’ with is not one of my ladies who have seen me naked (well, in any way unclothed) mainly because, and it’s a reasonable reason and I’m sticking with it. I don’t want any of my carers getting between me and my need to buy ice cream.

Hot off the Press – 25th October, 2021

Hot off the Press

Today I thought I’d do a little old school style Hot off The Press.

Sometimes I share some profoundly wise words with someone and they want to share or quote me, now I’m like, “Christ! Now I’ve got a post to write that has a stick of TNT attached. Because they want to quote me in their XYZ, you know I can’t recall and it doesn’t matter.

So, here are some wise words.

“Carers need to be aware that they may not value the same things as their client, but when they are with their clients, they put their own values aside!”

Cheers,
H

Community

Community

So, one of the amazing things about having carers is they bring with them stories and a sense of community. They share stories about their friends and other clients.

One of my carers has been dipping her foot back into dating and she quoted some male online dating guru, by stating, “women need to get rid of their lists!”

I’m sorry (a little defensive) what? Well, yeah that’s probably right.

So, she gave me her short list of three.

1. Nice person

2. Got their shit together

3. Nice d**k! (Hint, that word is not duck!)

I think this is fair. It’s three rather concise, necessary requirements.

So, sometimes I get lucky with the right kind of sass and I get to share. You’re welcome.

Eggs

Eggs

We think money makes the world go around, but I think EGGS can build a community.

A carer started buying me eggs, I would get a tray of thirty farm fresh eggs for $14.00, then I would give a dozen of them to my masseuse as I don’t otherwise pay her.

I have other ways to pay her which I think she appreciates. The carer who would bring me the eggs had a collection of egg cartons. I started decorating them with a thick black texta in the hope that other people would join in. Add to the drawings, answer the question and posted inside by announcing what they intended to make with the eggs.

Mine stated “Destined to be Carrot Cake or Omelette or Bread and Butter Pudding” (Which needs eight eggs)

After a time, I found my own supplier which was two less things for this carer to do for me in her own time. I do like to be self-sufficient, but my contact has trays of twenty eggs for the same amount ($14). And again, free range and ‘Picked’ that day at 4am.

You should realize eggs don’t grow on trees, but are laid. The eggs are rather big, 800g and ‘twins’ or double yolkers are plentiful.

The issue is, I need to order two trays for my egg guy to deliver for free.

So, I asked around my neighbours and my ‘people’. My first order was two trays, one for me, one for a neighbour. My second order was five trays.

And this is how I’ve been trying to create a community.

Today’s Lunch – 4th March 2020

Today’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

R.I.P. last Friday, I lost one of my favourite carers. They are all my favourites they just all bring something different to the party. This carer I will likely write about in a future post. I’m going to refer to her as FP, I only had 5 minutes notice before she arrived for her last shift. I would have FP up to 8-11.5 hours for 1 week every month and often mistaken as my daughter. She has not passed on but merely gone to study for the next stage in her life. I had, had her as my carer for three years! I mean, I had just gotten her trained. She could accurately read my mind, finished my sentences and I got to feed her.

I’m a feeder! I love to send my carers off with something to eat on their way to their next shift. I used to ask FP if her mother questioned me feeding her and the response was this. “If I go home and eat my dinner she doesn’t need to know” I believe this is exactly how she put it. I think she might waste away and her mum might wonder why, I might need to prepare her a care package.

Now, Autumn has arrived in Melbourne and I’m never happier than when wearing full black. It’s a rather strong Melbourne trait and it doesn’t hurt, it’s very slimming. I was down in Cliffy Hill yesterday to see my GP and he loves to encourage me to get on the scales. I fight him every time! It’s been good to catch up on some blog writing, as I will do again today over lunch.

Today’s lunch is the brain grain salad, because sometimes I need all the help I can get and medicine!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After another long day I’ll have to go home and give Mika to sit her down and give her the talk. You know, the one about how one of her favourite people is now gone from our lives.