Going Out, Then Down

Going Out, Then Down

There is so much people wouldn’t realise about my disability, because it’s hidden and because it seems I’m always upright and mobile when they see me.

On a rare occasion I might even get out in the evening for some extra-curricular entertainment. No wait! Not like that! (I wish)

I went to a theatre production called Kong. It really was a “One-off” adventure, so rare that they are. That night now some years ago, I had also been out and about during the day and had tried to plan for ‘saving’ some energy for the unexpected later that night. ‘Saving energy’ for later – what a foreign concept. The venue had a huge entrance of stairs.

We couldn’t get a park close by, so myself and another, plus our lovely friend who had hosted/escorted us for the adventure, walked us to and from the venue.

We had entered the venue through a very upmarket/snobby Café next to the venue and in a lift at the back. (would love to dine there one day).

Afterwards we ended up at a kebab place on Brunswick Street, our host stating many a night had ended there having kebabs. I ate something that came with a fork, just saying. I always go with at least the messiest option.

Once more, up the four steps into the unit I lived in at the time and success. Great night out. Good entertainment, good company, good walk in the city even.

Door to door service, almost.

Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick

Lastly, plan cuppa T and off to bed. No? Too easy. Ba-boom

Standing in the kitchen, put the kettle on and I feel myself losing balance. If all I have to do is put my left foot back, just a little step to support me.

No!

Don’t know if it’s the message is to slow the brain. It’s just a completely foreign concept. Make a half-arsed effort to grab onto something, but not enough to not want to cause more damage. I’m going down.

Timber!

That’s what people don’t see, when ever I have a fall and it’s not that often thankfully, once a year. I lie there and think to myself “This is NOT the time I wish I wore my Mepacs pendant.” Because I refuse and I do what I have to, to roll over and wriggle up.

That’s not pretty, but I haven’t been found the next morning on the floor by any of my carers yet.

So Winning.

New Year

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.

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.

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?”

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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…

Alone

Alone

There is nothing like a letter in the mail box that reminds you how alone you are in the world, to set you down a path of depression.

Every year, at my birthday I receive a card from Mepacs, it’s signed by all the ‘staff’ that work for them.

Remember Mepacs…..

And I am very well aware the staff signed a card which was sent to the printers to use as a template or “whatever” and then they printed off 50 thousand printed birthday cards and then one eventually gets sent to me.

Some of the facts and figures there might be a little off, however the facts remain the same. With the card came a letter basically asking for an update of my contacts.

Now, the first point of call, if I don’t hit the button by 9.30am in the morning is ME! I know, it sounds a little ridiculous. But my ‘in case of emergency’ contacts are my mum (3.5 hours away) and this letter reminded me I need to contact person is within thirty minutes from me.

I don’t have anyone….