Neuro Psychologist

All posts tagged Neuro Psychologist

Helen’s Joke of the Week

Published August 30, 2019 by helentastic67

Helen’s Joke of the Week

Today as a very special one-off post!

As promised Wednesday because I was a hormonal mess! Proof that even on shitty/miserable days there is always a possibility of a joke/laugh/opportunity to go full wrong!

My neuropsych was at my dining table and I pointed to my liquor cabinet. I still don’t drink but I have to put the jars of cumquat brandy and the “cooking” rum somewhere. So, why not with my photos, I pointed to the cabinet and told my neuropsych, “I know it looks bad. It’s not a drinking problem, it’s a I can’t find a photo problem!”

ro

Just remember: neuropsych, not just for crazy people!

Have a great weekend! I’m going off grid!

 

Crazy People

Published June 14, 2019 by helentastic67

Crazy People

Now before anyone jumps up and down about the heading, just wait. I have again completed another Neuropsych test and I like to say ‘Neuropsych test’ not just for crazy people. The term ‘Crazy People’ predates the whole politically correctness, this and it often referred to people who were schizophrenic or other equally awful serious infliction’s.

However, I digress a neuropsych test is literally a series of tests, verbal, that help work out how well your brain works. If you think of your brain like a filing cabinet, different parts manage different tasks, artistic, creative, problem solving, decision making, etc, etc.

One of the first tests (without giving too much away) is with numbers and you need to keep in mind the woman doing the test speaks in a calm, quiet, monotone, unemotional tone.

She gives me two figures, let me give you an example: 1, 4
I repeat back to her 1, 4.
Sounds easy, right?
Then the number of digits increases to three, then four, then five, etc.
Still OK, right?
Then she gives you numbers and you have to reverse them. The first example, again 1,4.
Answer 4, 1.
Then she increases the amount again.
Note: I’m not giving you a cheat sheet here, if you are ever required to do one, however.
Then she gives you a random collection of digits and you have to put them in order of value.
For example: 2, 5, 7, 8, 1, 6.
Answer: 1, 2, 5, 6, 7, 8.
Don’t try this at home!

The woman who delivers the test and comes to her findings, has qualifications. I say woman, because I’ve never had a man deliver this test, finally a test that doesn’t include needles and feeling like I’m being punched in the head from the inside.

It is a test, however that is rather mentally fatiguing. If I don’t finish with a migraine, I usually need a kip afterwards.

Diagnosis – Not Crazy

 

 

Today’s Lunch – 17th October 2018

Published October 17, 2018 by helentastic67

 

Todays LunchToday’s Lunch

Good Mental Health Day

The wisest words I can share from my shrink! (Cough, just sounds cooler than psychologist) that I can share with you are these. “I don’t have to tell you how to suck eggs!” This is the advice she gives me when I debrief her on how shitty the world I survive in with a disability. I can already hear her saying this to me when I next see her.

How to suck eggs

But why? I hear you ask, you should recently have read about the world of funding in which I must navigate and survive? This year I’ve been trying to decide when to go with a new case management organisation.

NDIS funding

My bad, that’s a dated term. They are now called a Service Coordinator! I had just been handed over to a new one mid-year. I met with her a few times and decided it was time to move. I am funded 2 hours a week to help coordinate my services. You get that I do that right? (It’s a NDIA term, just go with it) according to my new C.M. (shuddup! And go with it, it’s shorter!) told me it was the equivalent of an 8-week review.

Service Coordinator

I’m overdue my review for my next NDIA funding plan, when I get to November 6th the current one ends and so do my carers and anything else I need.

NDIS Review

I met my new CM, and she was really awesome. She told me she was going to get me out of this habit of calling her a C.M. I told her that was fine because I would eventually stab her to death with a fork! Yes, she laughed. so, I’ll now refer to a case manager as a Service Coordinator or a S.C. Try to keep up.

New Service Coordinator

This cool S.C had seven funded hours to get up to speed, book me an appointment for my review and meet with me a few times and be there to advocate for my next plan. In layman’s terms it’s a lot to do in only seven hours.

Have I mention my theory that government agencies and welfare services are not actually about providing service? It’s about making you run around a wheel until you give up and get a job. If you can, or you get screwed. Um, have you met me? My names Helen! I’m thinking about changing my middle name, to screwed!

Running in Circles

And I say this because I got a call from my (cough) S.C yesterday telling me she was handing me over to another S.C. We meet Monday! FFFFAAAARRRRKKKK! Not happy Jan!

Again, had no water this morning, by the time I finished with my carer I cancelled my stabby appointment as I would have been late. Definitely have to go out to get some food for my lovely Caroline as she’s driving me across town tomorrow for my Neuropsych appointment. Did I mention neuropsych appointments, not just for crazy people anymore. In short, the neuropsych test is about working out what parts of your brain have deficiencies or problems doing what they are meant to do. Can’t test too smart as I’ll lose funding, can’t test too slow or I’ll get heavily medicated so I’m bombed out and don’t get to make my own decisions anymore. Oh, oops. Did I say that out loud?
Looking forward for a quiet week, when does that happen?

Too smart

Running out of things to make with lemons.

Lemons

Cheers,
H

Blame

Published January 29, 2018 by helentastic67

Blame

Blame

I’m not sure if it’s just Acquired Brain Injury (ABI) or the whole disability, but I find I get blamed for all kids in my family or even just my home. I’ve had some new carers of late and one is my new Saturday/Sunday lady. She wouldn’t come for less than 90 minutes, so I figured I could make it work by giving her some odd cleaning jobs.

Clean fridge

Nothing major, but on a Saturday, I’ve asked her to clean a shelf in the fridge (it will be all clean eventually) and other things that rarely get done (cleaning the cutlery drawer or cleaning the front of the kitchen cupboards). The second Saturday, after washing went on the line, I know she didn’t do any of the other tasks as she had found the new foodie magazine on the dining room table.

Magazine on table

She commented to me I really liked cooking and Donna Hay’s recipes were easy. When I remarked to my mum, she said it was my fault, I left the magazine out on the table.

Donna Hay

The message was rather scathing, I didn’t know where else I was to have put it, in my own home…

It’s my home, I don’t leave out bills, cash, bank statements. I’m wondering if anyone else experiences this?

I can’t wait until I get my next Neuro psych, I’ve had countless, but my mum is insisting on being there next time. (pointless/counterproductive) and she wants to be there for the debrief.

Psych

She says it’s so she can better understand my ABI, but I know it’s going to lead to me better understanding my behaviour and then changing it to suit the family.

Behaviour

Nearly fell over on the tram today, Yes! It was the day I was carrying that darn cool-bag, but still number 1.

Why do people who don’t fit the criteria to take up those seats with signage stating they are for people who are elderly, disabled or pregnant. While I’m here, can pregnant ladies not sit in my seat in their first trimester. Please! You just look a little fat, sorry. Save it until you’re nine months pregnant.

Disability seating

Today, I wriggled up by asking a young woman to hold my walking stick, being weighed down by both my bags. It took an effort to push myself up.

I put my hand on the wall behind the driver’s cabin and had to balance so as not to fall backwards when the tram lurched forward. I stumbled and a woman behind me to the right, screamed out that I had trodden on her foot.

Stepping on toes

She dropped the F* Bomb to describe how much it hurt. I muttered an apology, but I had struggled to remain upright and had thrown my right hand up and grabbled the headrail. The woman holding my stick looked at me concerned, I think she wondered when to give me the stick and I had to wait for the tram to stop. I will often lean my shoulder or hip against that wall of the driver’s cabin to get my balance.

Falling over

I had to ignore the woman who complained I’d hurt her foot. I had apologised and I think her feet weren’t anywhere near her seat and she hadn’t realised how precarious my situation had been nor did she care.

I did notice she didn’t look like she had any of the pre-requisites of taking up those seats.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to fix this situation…

fixing it

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