I Had an Oopsy

I Had An Oopsy

It’s 10pm Friday night. I’ve yet to check my email, but I’m also yet to eat dinner. Where did the day go? So much achieved. Even voted early. Without queuing, the few benefits to having a disability. Don’t gotta queue.

But even more important, on Monday I had a fall. AGAIN! This time when I was out in the city, without a carer escorting me. I had been attending some training at the brain injury group I had only weeks ago stepped down from. The training was Mental Health First Aid. If you need talking off a ledge, “Don’t call us!” Had a bit of an emotional day. Then upon leaving later in the afternoon I continued a beaten path heading north along DeGraves Street, a laneway known for its cafes and a path I’ve trodden since the 90’s at least once a week, in the last 15 years once a month. Where the laneway goes up into an arcade to Collins Street there are four steps with handrails, of which I take the middle one and take the steps right/left/right/left.

Although this time something went wrong. The second step I have to only guess, my left leg gave out on me and I fell down. On my right there were three punk kids. Well, I would guess early twenties and more importantly, old enough to know and do better. But they didn’t! When I fell, I landed on my knees, my right hand on the heel of my hand, although unscathed and I landed on my tummy. Weirdly, never going to complain again about getting the version of menopause of getting fat around the middle not skinny.

My issue with muscle memory being a myth is for another day, also that the late spring weather in Melbourne has seen me wearing half summer on my bottom half and at times full winter on my top half, I was in my red fury Raver jacket which gave me padding and helped protect me.

But alas, landing unexpectedly as I did my tummy felt sick, my knees both hurt and having the feeling someone was breathing down my neck and I needed to get out of the way of anyone coming up behind me I dragged myself off to the side. I later realise how shit this line of thinking was that I believed nobody would come to my aide and that I might instead be left to fend to myself. Like a five-year-old, I felt sick, in shock and close to tears I rolled over onto my bum and pulled my messenger bag around to my right side. I wear it on my left shoulder, so it sits on my right hip. Bit of a legend it had not fallen off.

I did need a moment and fought the desire to cry. In front of me, rushing up to me were three tiny, seriously petite ladies. They gathered around and spoke fluent Chinese to each other to help me get up. I pulled myself up using my right hand, but my whole body was like a stiff board, I couldn’t even bend my knees to get my feet under me. One of the ladies moved around behind me and lifted me to help, another tried to hand me my stick.

What happened to the three punk kids? Big fat nothing! If I see them there again I’ll be giving them a piece of my mind. I later messaged a friend and he told me not to worry about those douchebags and that is now how I think of them.

Even once standing I wanted to take a moment to get myself back together, but I also had the mindset, I had to keep walking to get to my goal. I was aiming for the tram on Bourke Street Mall destined north. The whole way I noticed sad looks from people in suits making me think I must have looked like I was about to cry and I thought I’d managed to shake it off. Got to the tram, got a seat my knees hurting. Thirty minutes on the tram and I was home. Once upstairs in my apartment, I pulled up my right pants leg and had skinned it slightly. Days later I was nursing a nasty bruise. Two days later my chiropractor was not happy with what I had managed to do to myself.

Later that day I had X-Ray of my right hand to rule out the Trigger Thumb my GP had arranged and my left wrist to see if I’d damaged my wrist.

My Friday carer checked the x-ray as I’d been messaged the link. Had I logged in the password might have been “Thisfuckingthing!” She diagnosed me as having 5 fingers! Obviously, 4 fingers and a thumb, I pointed out the slight gap between my first knuckle of my thumb and my hand. The pain in my thumb rhymes with Mothertrucker! If you think about all the things, you might auto-pilot using your thumb. You find using your thumb for everything, including the remote control. It’s just not right! To be continued.

I’m writing this early Monday morning; I know my carer will ask me if I’ve a quieter week this week. It’s a negative and my laptop could be in its final death throes so my future “Go Fund Me” is now Priority No 1, along with everything else only I can do. Keep an eye out for that.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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?

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

Crazy Lady Hormones and AVM

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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 2^nd 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…