Handwriting

Handwriting

Handwriting can tell so much about someone, doctors writing is said to be hard to read. I’ve found often illegible, because apparently, it’s because there don’t want to tell you everything. But alas, my handwriting in recent years has proven to be absolutely diabolical.

I write very small and often times my carer pulls out the shopping list in the supermarket and states “Okay, I’m good except this one?” She points out what she can’t understand. Often, I look and can’t either. “I’ll give you that one!”

Another customer might be close by and she will not realise it’s my handwriting. I think others assume we are shopping together for someone else.

Today, my carer held the list and she said “Blinky Bill?” It was a kid’s ice cream back in the day (80’s) It was about 3 ‘B’ words and I problem solve like this.  Let’s just keep shopping, I’ll see it and remember I need it. We were in the dairy aisle, I called out, “Baby bocconcini balls!”

Luckily, we had already purchased them close to home. I guess I would put it down to my carpal tunnel and the sometimes RSI injury.

Osteo student and one of my Japanese carers who does a tape version of acupuncture, manage both of these issues for me but, it’s lockdown in Victoria during Covid 19. I’m lucky to have kept all my carers but, my osteo students who must cut their teeth with free clinic hours before they graduate. (They need to practice and cut their teeth in order to graduate.)

Expectations

Expectations

It’s really easy when you have an emotional detachment from issues that you can problem solve or find a solution to things when they are not your problems. You can assess the pros & cons and have a realistic expectation.

It’s easy to notice when people change and ??? when things in their live don’t go the way they would prefer.

I have found my circle of friends thin out over recent years, since my diagnosis and disability. Let me give you an example:

Once upon a time, well in last three jobs I worked in, office roles. Doing admin TPO Training Placement Officer) etc. The first job I ended up working up to having admin under my position and I was training them.

One woman, let’s call her ‘Sticks’ (she was tall and slim- don’t real any more it’s it) ‘Sticks’ and I worked there together and the next two places together. I saw her every day or had a conversation on the weekends of some sort.

She and I came from completely different walks of life. She still lived at home, still shared a room with her sister, yet managed to have sex. SEX! Every day with her boyfriend.

To be fair, her version of sex wasn’t mine, however that part is. When we no longer had that common thread, she got a different job (where she imagined she would have more time) and she would see me more.

Spoiler Alert: this did not happen.

For a little while after my treatment and before my hair had grown back and I’d started to see the ‘fall-out’ from my treatment, I’d go do lunch with ‘Sticks’ at the workplace I used to work at. I’d see the people I used to work with also. There was that sense of community I’d been part of, but no longer subscribed to. So for a little while the contact continued. I’d crank her (when you call someone and head up just as they got to the phone – which was something fun I used to do to her in the office, as I’d see her standing not far from her desk across the partitions in the office, so I could tell just how long to ring her and the conversations I’d have over the phone when she was forced to talk in code to have people around  her not know what she was talking about or who) and on a rare occasion she’d call me at midnight. Yes, I know, midnight, wait

Because we were both awake and she wanted to pick my brain about getting or qualified for a mortgage. Wait! I know, I asked myself that question already. What do I know about getting a mortgage? Do I have one? No! I do not. But I would have a credit rating.

I’ve been a renter for so long, to sit down and work out how much rent I’ve spent, not on a mortgage and I’ve had household accounts with my name on them and while I’ve not recently owned a car or ever had a car worth much.  (I had a poor art student car in the form of a Chrysler Galliant from the mid ‘90’s, but did I mention it was a mid 70’s model?) and I have had a Visa for some time.

So, the moral of the story is the less in common you have with your old friends, the less likely you will maintain that friendship.

And it is no-one’s fault, it just is what it is.

 

Family – Part 3

Family Part 3

Now, it’s a week later since I wrote the previous post, so having lost my train of thought, forgive me if this post seems disjointed. It seems that many people would claim their family is fucked. (had to be said) However, brain injury and disability brings out the worst in families.

You like to imagine, families can put aside their own issues to rally around the person with the shittier situation.

But, No! I have family members that don’t understand my brain injury, don’t want to, or just figure they will get on board ‘Team Helen’ when the only team player (my mum) on Team Helen is no longer here.

My mum is almost seventy now, I love her so and I don’t think it’s fair my much younger sister be expected to take over one day.

My father, who I also love and respect because he’s my father. I only see once or twice a year because I make the effort when in the part of countryside near where he lives. I can never stay over at his house where he has plenty of room, because I’m not having my father help me after my shower. Seems a fair compromise.

If my father has been to Melbourne in the last fifteen years, it doesn’t occur to him to visit and I’m the only daughter of three that has regular contact with him.

I think my family are all in their own world and my mum is the only my family member to spend any significant time with me, to solve problems, do forms or paperwork and now she is older and because her memory has been affected by a rather lengthy medical procedure, if she starts something with me, but takes it home to complete it. It’s not getting done.

She will have every reason under the sun for why I can live with a half-baked solution even if it’s me being $30 short on my income for a debt I rightly don’t have, and she is happy to keep calling every 3 months when the government agency must be contacted to have them not take any more of this from me, but this is how it is. It’s easy for family to ignore what I need because they don’t need those things. They will offer solutions that don’t consider the big picture.

I’m the only person who lives where I live full time and sees the situation in its whole. All the fall out if something is overlooked and the changes to my environment that may impact my health and home. (Referring to build up of moisture in my home from wet laundry or even just if I buy the wrong kind of clothes dryer that leaves more humidity and moisture into my environment) And just how exhausting it is every single night in the colder months to re-hang my washing inside on other racks so they can continue to air-dry inside.

Winter is approaching and it’s looking to be my second winter here without a clothes dryer still having not recovered from buying my front-loader washer a year ago outright.

Now, I’m sure this subject is far from covered, but I’m sure to circle back at another time.

Procastination

Procrastination

People have a habit of problem solving my issues by trying to talk me out of needing the very thing I know I need. Anything to get out of having to help me do the actual thing.

We’ve all worked with those people who if they just did their damn job.

 

Wishing everyone a very Happy New Year… May 2019 be all you can dream of…

Busy Brain

Busy Brain

It’s not something I’ve been officially diagnosed with and I’m sure other Mental Health related conditions might experience these symptoms, but in my case my mind is always (for want of a better word) “ON”.

 

Planning, problem solving, writing, scheduling, busy, busy, busy! Bills to pay, rent due, incoming, outgoing. People I want to see, people I have to see, brain training, appointments that keep me mobile. And I’m very lucky I can do all these things, hear me?

BECAUSE THEY KEEP ME INDEPENDENT!

But at the end of the day, I sit on the couch, amongst my ‘In Tray’ and I attempt to catch up on my admin.

Attending to the mail, scheduling when bills are due, when they need to be paid, brain training (OK-pirating) and brain training (word finders, puzzles, list making) and often it’s around 9 pm, I have dinner.

And then I settle into email-mode! I know, ridiculous. And then I have to start trying to turn off the busy brain! And that’s why I like to finish the night with a TV show where I don’t touch a remote or my iPad or my phone or anything.

I call it ‘Single-Tasking’.

Impossible being One-Handed…

Week So Far!

Week So Far!

Monday went to a DDAC (Darebin Disability Advisory Committee) meeting as a BIM member (sorry Brain Injury Matters) and a local resident. As have recently participated in some training (VATT) Voice at the Table Training so I can attend meetings and have my opinion be heard and valued. Rather than just being a token member with a disability.

I’d be happy to go to a meeting and not feel inclined to go to a meeting and find myself facilitating. Impossible!

They asked me to be a member of the DDAC! There were some ‘Service Providers’ at the meeting who are obviously concerned they won’t have a job when the NDIS (National Disability Insurance Scheme in case you missed it), gets rolled out across the North/East of Melbourne.

They like to ‘bang on’ about being there for their clients who have little independent living skills or might be intellectually handicapped, but it take me to tell that person she needs to change ‘hats’ when she’s at those meetings. She needs to put on her ‘Advocacy-Hat!’ and not be wearing her ‘Self Advocacy hat!’

People seem to go to those meetings with their ‘problems’ and there never seems to be a sharing of how to ‘problem solve’ these issues.

People don’t know how to solve them or who to go to, to fix said problems.

Anyway, left DDAC and went to have 2^nd x-ray to find out what’s causing pins and needles in my right hand.

FYI That’s my good hand!

X-ray of the day was of my ‘upper back/spine/right shoulder’ (Note: despite having to go up a flight of stairs they couldn’t do the lower back x-ray at the same time. Had to book to go back Tuesday.

Had planned to ‘smash out’ the last Episode of Walking/talking Dead before Chiropractors.

Rang Darebin HACC (Home and Community Care) to arrange a Carer so I could get to 3^rd x-ray and spent the next hour being bullied because people can’t read the DAMN FILE!!!

Got a migraine and was in bed by 11.30pm. When I’m in bed that early for the night, you need to consider ‘Will Helen Wake Up Dead??’

So it’s now Wednesday afternoon and I’m still feeling seedy from the migraine.

Super week so far!!!