Hi! My name is Ceej. I like to write stuff!

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Tag: Life

  • The Dust Has Settled

    It has been a hot minute since I sat down to write a blog. The last time I wrote a blog was here: https://domainsaredumb.blog/2024/02/11/lets-talk-about-cats/

    Feel free to read it if you wish. In fact, if you did read it, I would be most grateful. Some feedback would be appreciated.

    As I promised some 874 years ago – I would write a blog once the dust had settled. I’m pleased to inform you, dear Reader, that the dust has indeed settled and the continuation of blogging can commence.

    To begin with, Daylight savings has ended and after 6 glorious months of extended daylight ( and complaints that Western Australia is 3 hours behind the rest of the country) we have now resumed regularly scheduled AEST .. You’re welcome.

    You may note the little header picture I have chosen for this blog. No, sadly I have not decided to become an avid explorer off to explore the all four corners of the world – I simply wish to give you a breakdown of where I have been the last few weeks during my community access days and a little person looking like they’re off on an adventure seemed to suit the situation.

    I’ll be covering:

    • My Respite Weekend / Hublander
    • My Respite Weekend/ The Aquarium/ Work Visit
    • The Melbourne Zoo
    • The Botanical Gardens
    • The Melbourne Highlander Games and Celtic Festival
    • The Melbourne Museum /Exploring Carlton Gardens

    And anything else that happens should another adventure arise before this series is finished.

    On the homefront, since my Respite weekend ended, I have spent the last month or so tidying up all the loose ends since my last Support Coordinator – lets call her ‘G’ – up and disappeared just before Christmas. My current Support Coordinator – Miss K – is an absolute gun!

    We’ve been plowing through the mountains of paperwork, getting stuff followed up with and signed off on and ensuring all things are ship-shape and Bristol fashion.

    Now that all of that is done and dusted ( See? The dust HAS actually settled!) we can now focus on what the rest of my NDIS plan will look like till its review date in 2025.

    Mr Jetson has been with us 9 weeks .. and I must say he is proving to be a very interesting experiment in Cat ownership. He is unlike any Cat I have ever owned. He only responds to food. That is it. If his tail is up in the “Happy” position – it’s because he thinks he’s going to get food. If he’s purring – it’s because of food. If he’s vocal .. again, it’s because of food.

    He doesn’t like being petted or touched ( at least by me. Hubby can do so a little bit – but then, he’s the one who feeds him so there you go)

    He won’t come when called (He’s not given us his name yet.. We’re still waiting)

    He’s incredibly skittish. He doesn’t like loud noises or any sudden movements. He’s terrified of aluminum foil and hates the sound of motorbikes

    That said, he does like raw chicken ( goes bonkers over it) and, as it turns out, spaghetti on toast.

    He’s not destructive or rowdy – although he does have a penchant for digging his claws into the carpet – despite being told not to on a regular basis. He and Miss Floof are still working things out. For the moment it seems that despite being male and much larger Cat – he is abjectly terrified of the Floof. We’ll keep you updated on progress.

    Speaking of Miss Floof, the other day we took her to the Vet. She’s been having issues with her ears for a few months now and so off to the Vet she went. Turns out our wee Miss had a slight yeast infection in both ears ( She needed her ears cleaned out something shocking!) and so she now has ear drops – which she hates but tolerates regardless – to help get rid of any infection and prevent any new ones from occurring.

    In other news, my Aunty Bev who has been staying with my Dad since late November last year flew back home to Western Australia today. We’ve all loved having her here and it’s been great fun! Dad always loves her company and I think he’s really going to miss not having her there to spend time with.

    I have a few things on this week but nothing to stressful thankfully . Lots of indoor activities since the weather is predicting rain all week!

    Thanks for reading

    Ceej

  • Let’s Talk About Cats

    For most of my adult life, I’ve had Cats. The first kitten I ever owned was a black and white domestic short hair called Thomas .

    When my Husband A and I had been dating around 2 years, (so, around the year 1999) he moved into my Father’s house ( and immediately into the spare bedroom) with my Father and I. He had just gotten himself an new job and, no yet having a car or a licence, it was decided that he would move in with us and thus cut the travel time in half getting to and from work.

    Shortly thereafter, it was decided that we wanted a Cat. Naturally, my Father was against the idea but .. after much badgering ( erm, I mean asking nicely) we drove to a place giving away kittens for free and found Thomas.

    Now, as much as I want to say that Thomas lived a long and healthy life as my furbaby.. I’m afraid that would be a lie .. For you see, Thomas became my Father’s best friend and for next 17 odd years, they were inseparable and it really was a lovely thing to watch and , if I’m honest, I think my Dad still misses him to this day.

    In 2001, when A and I moved out and into a place of our own we weren’t planning on getting any pets. We’d just moved into a cheap rental and really didn’t want the responsibility of owning a pet.

    That is, until the day we walked past Pets Paradise* in Forest Hill Chase and saw this beautiful little black and white kitten with a pink nose, push his paws against the glass and meow at us. It melted my heart and about a week later A got that little kitten for me as a surprise after work.

    We named him Timozel -named after a character in the series of books we were reading at the time – The AXIS trilogy .

    (His full name being Timozel Alexander P… for Puss Cat.. but moving on. )

    We had him for 7 years. Over that 7 year period, Timozel became Timmy. Timmy became Timmy Puss and Timmy Puss became simply Puss-Wuss. Puss Wuss was largely an outdoor cat – but never went any further than our neighbours garden over the fence. In particular, her flower bed. From there he would while away the hours with his favourite pastime – watching her clean her house through the window.

    Our neighbour enjoyed his company immensely and they became friends until our neighbour moved away to live closer to her Daughter.

    A few years into the 7 years of Puss-Wuss – our little guy let us know he was lonely and really wanted a friend to play with ( Shut up! Cats can do that, you know) and so the hunt was on. We searched for weeks and weeks and weeks but to no avail.

    Then, one Thursday night after work, we wandered into Pets Paradise in Eastland and decided to have a look at what was on offer. I had decided to choose from the little domestic shorthair kittens on display at the front of the store. I had almost made up my mind when my Husband called to me and said, “Hey Darl, come and have a look at this funny looking thing!”

    So I did.

    And there, up the back of the store, slightly off to one side, in a glass case were two very odd looking kittens. A white one and a black one. They were small, had oval shaped faces and their fur was short and curly. I almost turned away but then the little black one looked at me – His big moon eyes staring into my soul.. and in that moment my life changed forever.

    “Do you want to hold him?” the store attendant asked as she opened the glass case

    “Yes Please!” I said and as she handed me this little black Selkirk Rex kitten covered in his own poop – I knew he was mine. He started to purr and fell dead asleep in my arms. “You are coming home with me!” I stated matter of factly.

    And he did.

    Initially, I named him Snuffy after Mr Snuffleupagus on Sesame St because he waddled when he walked due to a broken tail. ( They told us he was the runt of the litter and the others walked all over him) but Snuffy ( Snuffington Cornelius Xavier III) made way for Mr Snuffles- when exactly, I can’t remember- and that was that.

    It took a few months but it wasn’t long before Puss-Wuss and Mr Snuffles became best mates and did almost everything together. Played together, went outside together, slept together and more often than not, got into trouble together as well.

    Dinner time became the “Me Me ” and “I want” show ( You had to be there) and it wasn’t long before we had a wonderful little family unit.

    When Mr Snuffles was 5, Puss-Wuss became unwell with a blockage that made him unable to urinate. We took our little guy to the local 24 hour Vets and the only solution they gave us was to put our little man to sleep. They refused to do surgery unless we could pay $1300 there and then on the spot and even though we said we’d have the money – they just needed to give us till we got paid, they said no … and so.. We had to say goodbye.

    The 5 years that followed, Mr Snuffles was largely on his own. Oh, how we spoiled him. With treats and toys. With cuddles and snacks. With adoration, love and affection. All day. Every day. Did Mr Snuffles miss Puss-Wuss? Of course he did! In the days that followed his passing, Mr Snuffles would sit at the back door and wait for Puss-Wuss to come inside. But ultimately, once he realised Puss-Wuss wasn’t coming back he kinda just got on with things and, in a way, so did we.

    Facebook has been a thing in my life since 2007. From throwing farm animals at your friends – to never ending poking wars – Facebook has been at the forefront of just about everything there is . Facebook is how I found Miss Floof.

    In 2016 I was browsing Selkirk Rex rescue pages on Facebook and I came across an ad for a female Selkirk Rex Tabby – 1 year of age and looking for a forever home. I immediately put my hand up to take her. She looked absolutely beautiful and her description said that she was well natured, gentle and loved to play.

    The arrangements were made via FaceBook DM’s and about a week later, Miss Floof or “Casserole” as she was known at the time, was a welcome addition to our home.

    Casserole took to our place like a duck to water and immediately began to act like she owned the place. Mr Snuffles was none too impressed to say the least and BOY did he let us know it!

    The name “Miss Floof” wasn’t supposed to happen. We had decided to name her Isobelle ( Isobelle Prudence Guinevere to be precise) and despite weeks of trying, she just wasn’t responding to it. We tried “Miss” and “Little Miss” with limited degrees of success “Belle” fell on deaf ears entirely.

    One day Casserole was wanting smooches and jumped up on the back of the couch to greet us. Her fur was mental and sticking up everywhere like she’d just has a run in with a fork in a power socket “Floof Nugget!” I exclaimed, thinking nothing of it ” How are you?”

    Well, her tail went up and her ears did the same. She has ( finally) chosen her name and thus Miss Floof was and still is.

    In the 6 years that followed, the relationship between Mr Snuffles and Miss Floof wasn’t exactly what you’d call easy going.

    Many a times they’d play and chase each other around the house only to suddenly fight and get cross with each other. Mr Snuffles earned the name “Captain Clean Air” because whenever she got too close to him – he’d make like she was polluting his personal space.

    Ultimately though, they figured it out and had the kind of relationship where they tolerated each other.. well, Mr Snuffles tolerated her anyway. Which was better than not at all.

    Mr Snuffles passed away in November 2022 a few weeks shy of his 16th Birthday.

    When he passed away, it left A and I bereft with grief. Our whole world shattered and fell apart because our little baby boy was gone. We loved him more than words. More than anything in the whole world.. and to move on without him seemed impossible.

    The morning after Mr Snuffles passed I sat in my office and cried. I cried until I screamed. Then I screamed myself hoarse until I couldn’t anymore … and then I cried again until I had no tears left. **

    To the credit of Miss Floof, she was right there for us being cute and fluffy and trying to make A and I laugh through our grief and sorrow. It was during this time the decision was made – No More Cats.

    It hurt to much. Once it was time for Miss Floof to join her brother over the rainbow bridge – that was it. No more Cats. No more pets of any sort. It was to painful. Besides, pet food cost a fortune. We can hardly afford to feed one cat – let alone two! We’re a one Cat household! Miss Floof will be better off with just us!

    Somehow, we managed to justify all that and more to ourselves and over the next 12 months we focused on making a family with just the three of us. It was odd and awkward at first as A and I missed Mr Snuffles terribly ( And I believe Miss Floof did as well in her own way) so, there was a very long adjustment period while we all got used to this new dynamic.

    No More Cats Indeed!

    Which brings me to the now and the reason I wanted to write this blog.

    There comes a point where you have to not only admit – but accept – that you are better off with two cats in your life than just one. Not because you don’t love the one cat any less … It’s just… Two cats seem to complete you. Two cats make you feel safe. Two cats are just that ..Two cats.

    You can’t describe why you feel better with two cats in your life … You just do. It works and somehow, you know, that everything will be OK.

    We recently adopted an 8 year old long haired domestic Cat named Jet. We found him via Urban Feline Australia ( Shout out to Daniel from UFA for all your help) and immediately took to him. We were told he’d had a rough life – going from pillar to post, from adoption to adoption ( the last one dumping him at a Vets door all matted and messed up after deciding they didn’t want him.) and so, we discussed it and decided to take him in.

    His full name is Jetson Oliver Periwinkle. He seems to answer to either Mr Jet, Jetson, Mr J, Little Man or Buddy but has yet to let us know he’s preferred name of choice. He’s such a chill little guy and in the four days since we’ve bought him home he’s settled in quite well.

    Miss Floof is put out, obviously but… She’s slowly starting to come around and realise he’s no threat.

    It’s early days but I must say things are progressing nicely. We are convinced our two kittens will soon become friends … or at the very least tolerate each other without the hissing.

    At this point we’ll take either

    Keep you updated as things progress

    Ceej

    *Pets Paradise was a pet store chain back in the late 90’s early 00’s . They were all closed down after struggling financially and went into receivership

    ** Even though it broke me to pieces, A was with Mr Snuffles when he was put to sleep.

  • How Can You Write – When You Don’t Read?

    Is a question I get asked alot.

    “You can’t be a writer – because you don’t read!” claim the avid book readers in my life. To them, because I’ve not a book in my hand at all times, I am considered a heathen. I am wrong. In order to fully understand my love of the written word, first I must devour every book ever written – regardless whether I like the genre or not. Because then and only then.. will I be able to write well enough to be taken seriously.

    When I was a child, I loved writing poetry. I would spend hours and hours and hours writing poems about all manner of subjects. The fact I was 11, my favourite babysitter, the way my room looked. It didn’t matter. As long as I could write about it – it was worth it. Nobody taught me how to write poetry ..I just figured it out. Poetry is like song lyrics without music. As long as it rhymed and had a beat to it – I was proud of it.

    I kept all of my poems in a purple plastic A4 folder. It had stars on it. Whenever we had guests, my Mother would ask me to bring it out and she would show everyone my silly little poems. (At the time I was embarrassed but, looking back on it – I can only assume she was proud of me as well)

    Pretty soon poetry made way for story telling. My favourite time in school was when the class was asked to write a story (on anything they wanted) While most kids managed about 2 pages each – I would walk into class with 20+ pages, still incomplete, hoping that we’d be given time to work on it some more because I still had more chapters to go.

    In fact, I wrote so much that my teachers said ” Can you shorten it a bit? I just won’t have time to read all that!”

    When I started High School, English was my favourite subject and I always got fairly good grades. (Even managing an A one year – which to this day remains one of two A’s I have ever managed to receive throughout the entirety of my 12 years Public School education. The first being in 4th grade for a project on France and the second being of course, the A for completing year 10 English with flying coloursGod bless you, Mr Walter .. wherever you are. I hope you and your glorious teaching hat are well!*)

    That is, until my senior year, Year 12. 

    In my final year of highschool, any confidence I had with my ability to write was shot to pieces by my year 12 English Teacher. Mrs *B* { name redacted} was an old overweight woman with fat ankles who made wheezing noises when she walked. She also drank tea. A hell of a lot of tea. Whenever we had a doubles class – she would slurp away while we worked on whatever it was she’d prepared for us that lesson. The truth of it was though, no one liked her. So much so, that many of us, including myself, would get up and walk out of her classes and wander across to the school canteen to grab a bite to eat. She would complain that we were never attentive in class – we would complain that she never taught us anything so what was the point. By the second half of the school year however, all of our shenanigans came to a halt when the school principal told us to pull our heads in and knock it off – after it got back to him that Mrs B had been heard shrieking “If you don’t want to learn – You can get out and play in the trees!” Before locking half the class out of the room for the rest of the lesson which, as you can imagine, raised an eyebrow or two indeed.

    From that point on, regardless of what I wrote – it wasn’t good enough. Mrs B found every excuse under the sun to belittle and humiliate me. ”What is this?” she’d say ” It’s rubbish!” or “Why can’t you write like *Insert authors name here* or, my favorite “* Person in class* can write better than you”

    I can only imagine I wasn’t the only person she heaped shit on- but her criticism of the only thing I knew I was good at .. Cut me to the quick and I vowed to never write anything ever again.

    In the *counts* almost 30 years ( Ye gads I’m old!) since I finished High School, I’ve dabbled here and there . Written other blogs on and off. The odd bit of fan fiction. Pieces for online publications and the like but never been able to fully commit to writing full time.

    What would I write about? I haven’t a clue!

    Would anyone read it? Probably not. ( But does it matter?)

    Will I have to read a million books .. before anyone would bother with anything I put to paper?

    The answer?

    No. Because I don’t NEED to read anything to be able to write. Do those who read books need to be able to write an essay on the subject matter before they can read a word? No. No they do not. Why? Because it’s not required.

    The answer to “How can I write – when I don’t read” is simple. I have a creative imagination. The only mistake I’ve made is allowing people to stomp on my creative ability and believing them when they’ve said ” In order to do this .. .You have to do that” and ” You can’t do this because it’s stupid!” Because I can! The thing with creativity is .. .There is no order by which you do things … because you just do it. It happens naturally. And that’s it. Creativity comes from within. It’s not taught in school ( although, if you find the right teacher- it can be polished till it shines – Thank you, again, Mr Walter!) and there’s no instruction booklet or how to guide.

    Whether you write, paint, draw, play music, knit, sew, make things or sing.. It all comes from the heart first.

    The sooner people figure that out - the better.

    I love writing.

    That is all

    Ceej

    *My year 10 English teacher had a white, wide brimmed hat. He would wear it whenever we ‘misbehaved’ or got to rowdy. He would silently put it on and wait. We would all just look at him and then he would lecture us on acting like two- year-olds. Truth be told he looked silly in that hat. But honestly, he was the coolest teacher ever and to this day remains one of my favorites. Thank you for believing in me Sir. It meant a lot.

    ** While the cover photo for this blog has nothing to do with the subject matter -They’re books I’ve actually read. 😛

  • That Time I Found A Thing In My Drafts Folder – So, I Used It For This Weeks Blog …

    *Blinks*

    Oh, it’s that time again.. OK.. Cool.. Where am I? Are we still in January?

    We are?

    Oh Good.

    It’s currently just after 11am on Saturday morning and I’m absolutely exhausted.

    The last couple of weeks have been a major turning point in my life in regards to socialising and frankly, while I am happy that I have done all these things – I need a break. I need a rest. I need a Bex and a good lie down.

    First, there was my friends 50th Birthday party. M and I have been friends since we met in … 1997 while we were doing a short course in something .. Office Administration I think, and we kind of just hit it off from the moment we met. We’ve known each other for close to 30 years .. ( Bloody hell, that’s a long time!) M was my Matron of Honor at my Wedding – 3 weeks after giving birth to her first Child “Pixie Nose” ( IYKYK) and so, when she pinged me on FB with an invite to her Birthday – of course I said I’d go .

    We went to a Cafe/ Bar/ Restaurant/ Function Room place called CRAVE in Boronia. A and I decided to take Eleanor Whillie and see how she’d handle moving about a room full of people. ( Mind you, I’d spent the day in Eleanor already at Hairhouse Warehouse in Knox getting my hair done for the occasion. Shout out to the team for being super helpful and lovely while I was in there!)

    And you know what? Everything went OK. M’s Birthday bash was a success and a great time was had by all.

    Yesterday afternoon, was my Niece’s Engagement- which turned out to be a surprise Wedding ( A/N: My Aunty B and I called it months ago when we first received the invite in the mail. It’s not hard to put two and two together when the invite reads “Formal Attire” you know?)

    And well may I say, the Bride and Groom looked lovely and happy and the afternoon/ evening was a success. Again, A and I took Eleanor Whillie to see how she’d handle the terrain ( It was at Settlers Run Golf and Country Club in Botanic Ridge) and I have to say she took to the grass and things fairly well over all.

    When all was said and done, A and I were home by around 10:30 pm. Once all the things were done and we’d scoffed a pot noodle – It was around 1am when we finally face planted into bed and fell dead to the world asleep.

    I don’t think we’ve got much of anything else planned for the rest of the weekend -which is good.

    Next weekend is a long weekend … As its Australia Day long weekend . Haven’t got much planned either – but we’ll see what happens

    Thanks for reading

    Ceej

  • When a Sunday becomes a Thursday

    Look, to tell you truth, I’ve not had much in the way of spoons this week and so trying to do anything has been a monumental amount of effort and frankly, the word NO features heavily in my vocabulary ..

    That said, I am here with this week’s promised blog – Albeit a short one.

    Here it is in dot points:

    • I have new clothes! Hooray!
    • I am getting more confident using Eleanor Whillie – Yay!
    • I have sent all the emails, text messages and made all the phonecalls
    • Am watching the 2nd Season of ‘The Wheel of Time’ .. It’s OK. Not what I expected but it’s OK – watchable at least.
    • I am currently a size 20. This is the biggest I have ever been . I need to work on that and get to at least a 16 by years end.
    • Hubby goes back to work on Monday ( Where did those 3 weeks go?)
    • I seem to have injured myself again – but what else is new?

    And there we have it . One Dotty Dot points blog

    Ceej

  • In The (My) Interest of Being Disabled.

    (Authors Note: Though I am a 46 year old Disabled person- I am not expert on anything. I do not have a degree or fancy letters next to my name. I simply aim to look at my situation (specifically) with the humor intended.

    That said, not one Disabled person is the same. We are all different and each one of us has needs that must be met and it sucks balls that in the year 2023 (almost 2024) we’re all still here fighting for our right to be seen and heard. To be given basic access to day to day life. I hope one day that changes. I truly do. But for now I hope you’ll enjoy this blog and laugh along with me)

    This morning I woke up. Like every morning I hurt all over. My hurt seemed to be amplified . Radiating like some kind of modern day pain beacon. Come to think of it – if my pain becon made a noise – it would probably be ” Ow! Ow! Fuck! Ow! Ow! Fuck” but I digress …

    After grabbing hold of Penelope for support ( And before you lot get some idea – please get your mind out of the gutter! There is no Horizontal Blanky Dance afoot in my abode! Not for lack of wanting to mind! It’s simply due to the fact that my body is no longer able to perform accordingly *ahem* due to things hurting way to much) Penelope is my trusty bed pole that I use to help me turn over onto my side while in bed and, to help me sit up and get the legs out and the feet on to the floor in the mornings.

    Next, I grab Bert and Ernie . Burt and Ernie ( called so because they’re always together) my trusty el cheapo ‘got em from the Chemist’ crutches that I’ve had since Moby Dick was a tadpole ( My Father’s expression – Not mine. Although, Moby Dick was written in 1851.. which was inspired by a whale who died in 1838 -Which presumably was a Beluga Whale, which according to Google can live upto 50 years … means that technically speaking- and it’s one HECK of a stretch- Moby dick was legitimately a tadpole in the year 1788)

    Anyway…

    I use Burt and Ernie to help me go to the toilet. Depending on how difficult things are, Hubby may need to help me. I find that I am at my stiffest in the morning – So does my Husband funnily enough ( No… Not like that! Do we remember what I said about gutters?) and the two of us struggle to get me sorted before things get to the point of no return.

    As a rule Bert and Ernie are my main mobility aids to help me get around the house. I have Henry Rollins in reserve ( another pair of rather expensive, sleek, black , slimline, lightweight crutches) – but they’re no good when I need to open a door or turn a light switch on and off – as they have no cuff around the arm for support.

    I also have a sparkly blue walking stick that I’ve named ‘ The Doctor’ but I’ve not been able to use him for quite a few years. Now that i think about it – I’ve not used him since the very beginning of 2020. I hope to be able to use him again one day. He was always fun. He took over after Edna ( my pink walking stick) was retired after many years of use.

    (There’s also ‘Bernard- Brown McBlack’ my four pronged walking aid – but we never really gelled or got on so he just kinda sits in a corner gathering dust.)

    Thankfully I am not going anywhere today – but when I do I either take my red manual Wheelchair ( Bernard Barge-Ass) or Eleanor Wheelie

    One of the things I have noticed since becoming reliant on mobility aids ( and people) for support is the way society tends to treat you. You’re either invisible (not seen) talked at or over ( not heard) and it infuriates me when people assume I’m stupid because I’m sitting in a wheelchair. ( I plan to write a whole other blog on that subject soon. You have been warned)

    Whenever I do go out – I’m either with my Support Worker ( who can fit me, my Wheelchair and crutches in their car) or I require a Maxi Taxi ( shout out to Roy at 13cabs) to go somewhere. I am also the proud owner of a Taxi Card and a Companion Card – which makes travelling a hell of a lot easier.

    Currently, it’s 11:33am . Hubby has gone out to do the weekly grocery shop (I’ve tagged along a few times in Eleanor. So far I’ve not crashed into anything LOL) When he gets home he’ll make us both lunch. After which he’ll have to help me shower.

    Relax folks! It’s not as kinky as you think. ( Hello? Gutter HAHA) I know that when we Married we spoke our vows ” In sickness and in health” ” For better or worse” Yadda Yadda Yadda – but no where in there did it state that “When your Wife gets to her mid 40s she’ll be permanently disabled and you’ll be stuck washing her Foo-Foo McGoo for all eternity!” and honestly, the Man needs some kind of reward for doing it. (THE FOO-FOO- McGOO Award? Anyone?)

    Not many Men would wash their wives Foo-Foo-McGoo I’d wager. He is a wonderful help to me, (despite his constant complaints to Management that his role in things was to remove me of my clothes …Anyway, never mind! The way we do our laundry is none your business! LOL!) so in that respect, I’m very lucky.

    Thankfully, thanks to my new NDIS plan, which comes into effect in January next year – I’ll have Support Workers in to take over helping me shower – so that’ll be one less thing he’ll have to do – which will hopefully mean we’ll no longer have to get up at 4am every day and get some extra sleep!

    We’ve got a quiet day planned ( at least in theory anyway Most of the time my Husband is running around like a blue arsed fly getting all the things done.) Tonight we’ll have dinner, then watch another episode of LOKI -Se 2- while I sit with my feet on Mr. Wilson – The mean, green, peeing machine – for 30 minutes so I can work on improving the circulation in my legs.

    Now, because I know you’re going to ask – Mr Wilson is my Revitive machine. It’s a Circular Disk that you can put your feet on and it sends electric currents up through your legs ( which are at a 30 degree angle mind) in order to stimulate circulation and stop your legs and feet from swelling. I got it on the advice of my Physiotherapist who suggested it might help and so far, he’s right. It certainly hasn’t solved all of my problems – but it has helped. The only drawback is that the electric current tap dances like Fred Astaire across your bladder and *Surprise!* You need to Pee! Hence my name for it.

    You know, I had started out with wanting to write this blog with my thoughts regarding how I found Disabled Access to places and to start a discussion on whether it’s reasonable to discuss your needs with a venue or not – But this blog kinda went in a different direction and that’s OK .

    I hope by reading this blog, people will have some understanding of what my day is like.

    The other blogs will be happening over the coming weeks

    Thanks for reading

    Ceej

  • The One Where The Day Chair Finally Arrived (And Other Chaos This Week)

    Like last week, the featured image I’m using for this week’s blog has nothing to do with anything – other than its something nice to look at. In fact, If memory serves me right – I took it from the 22nd floor from 180 Lonsdale St not long after my place of work moved in. It’d been raining all morning and when it stopped- a rainbow appeared thus the photo that’s currently the image for this blog.

    Enjoy.

    Where to begin?

    My mental health fell into the toilet this week and has pretty much remained like an unflushed turd in the bottom of the bowl. With everything that’s been going on .. I simply wish to cease to exist for a bit, until everything goes away and/or I stop hurting.

    Since losing my Psychologist from the NDIS ( and if you wish to read about that – you can do so here: https://domainsaredumb.blog/2023/12/03/the-one-where-the-ndis-was-still-taking-the-piss-regarding-my-allied-health-providers/)

    I’ve not exactly been feeling like I could take on the world head on. It’s affecting my job ( I’m beginning to feel like I am a burden and am letting the team down) and I am constantly exhausted and tired. I’m finding it difficult to concentrate and want nothing more than to nap in the middle of the day. I take vitamins every day ( including extra Vit C and Vit D) and it makes little to no difference to my energy levels.

    Even writing this blog is a struggle. I mean I just sat here for 15 minutes watching tik tok videos for no apparent reason. (And please, don’t throw “You’re Neurodivergent” at me. I’ve not had an official diagnosis of anything of the sort and if I’m being perfectly honest, the fact that people just throw that word around like it’s nothing or as an excuse to justify really shitty behaviour – really gives me the shits)

    But yeah, I’m just not feeling much of anything at the moment and it’s really getting me down.

    That said, I have taken steps to help myself by reaching out to E.A.P ( Employee Assist Program) which is the free counselling service provided by work . 6 sessions at no charge – at anytime you see fit. It’s not the first time I’ve used them and I very much doubt it’ll be the last .. But anything is better than nothing.

    As well as my mental health being in the toilet – it’s entirely possible I have carpal tunnel syndrome in my right wrist. I’ve had a clicky weird thing going on in my right thumb and very recently pain began to radiate from my thumb down to my wrist so yeah.. That could be a thing.( From using the crutchers I suspect) I’ve also pulled/pinched a muscle in my back ( Right side – because of course) so that’s a thing as well. Thankfully, I am taking celecoxib.. A really strong anti inflammatory for all the things so hopefully it helps.

    On the NDIS front – My DAY CHAIR arrived! I mean, it arrived out of the blue, with no warning after 6 months .. Completely the wrong colour and a slightly different design to the one that I ordered – But, it arrived nonetheless. And given that it took 6 months of asking, emailing back and forth, invoices being lost, found, lost and then found again, payment being made and finally have it turn up on my doorstep in a truck just before lunch on Wednesday – I was hardly going to complain about it.

    The funny thing was, I was talking to my Support Coordinator about it that morning and we were discussing pulling the pin on my entire order as by that point, we’d both agreed that it was ridiculous and the company we were using had dicked us about long enough.

    Funny how things work out huh?

    As well as this, I’m still in discussions with my OT ( Occupational Therapist) regarding a lightweight wheelchair ramp and modifications to our bathroom. Will keep everyone posted about how that goes. As I’ve mentioned before, I live in a rental and anything that needs to be done requires permission from the Landlord .. Invisible man that he is.

    On the homefront, the alternator went to god on Wednesday afternoon and so we had to get it replaced. It was all pretty easy – thanks to the RACV – but yeah, happening just after we’d paid rent? Not ideal to be sure. Oh well, what’s done is done and there we are.

    Tonight we’ve invited my Dad and my Aunt over for a Roast Lamb. So that’ll be a nice way to end the week at least.

    Until next time

    Ceej

  • The One Where The NDIS Was (still) Taking The Piss Regarding (my) Allied Health Providers

    To start with – The header of this blog has nothing whatsoever to do with the the subject matter – it’s simply a cool pic ( thanks to IG for the filter) and frankly describes how much I wish I could drink – Given just how much stress the NDIS has caused me in the last 5 days.

    Five days ago I received an email from the NDIS regarding the outcome of my S100 application and then, everything went to pot.

    (For those playing at home a S100 means a “Review of a Reviewable Decision” in NDIS terms. Frankly, after I read it, I thought someone was playing a cruel joke.. Although, to be fair… The NDIS is a governing body; ergo run by clowns .. so I really shouldn’t have been as shocked as I was)

    The NDIS – National Disability Insurance Scheme is designed to support Australia’s Disabled and Chronically ill – giving them access to all the things, all the time with a minimum of fuss. It’s to ensure that the Disabled and the Chronically ill have a fair chance at life and oh.. hang on.. That’s on paper..Heh. Oops!

    In reality however, it is a ginormous, twat-berking shamozzle of a shit show- that not only leave those of us who are disabled up shit creek without a paddle – but also our able bodied full time carers with nothing more than a leaky canoe with no lifejackets to help us out.

    At time of writing this blog, the NDIS is going through a massive overhaul of how it does things, why it does things and when it does things which means .. everyone and their dog is confused!

    Hooray!

    Here’s my story. ( And the reason behind today’s blog)

    So, I got to the NDIS in 2022. My funding was just over $75K for two years.

    Pretty much straight away, I began a “Change of Circumstances” because there was no way I could stretch $75K over two years.

    At this point though, my Allied Health providers( My Chiropractic, my Remedial Masseuse, my Podiatrist, my Psychologist, my Physiotherapist, my Occupational Therapist and my Exercise Physiologist) were being covered by the NDIS as enough medical evidence has been provided in my original application for them to be so.

    After almost a year of pushing for a Change of Circumstances – it gets approved and I end up with just over $159K over two years . This allows me to purchase Eleanor Whillie ( my Electric Wheelchair) a DAY CHAIR ( that I am STILL waiting on) and a pair of shoes from Dr Comfort. *

    On this plan however, ALL of my Allied Health services have been dropped..well, nearly all of them. They’ve kept my Occupational Therapist and my Physiotherapist in. This is great and all but… Hello? Really? Are you kidding me? They’ve also included ( as a money saver, they tell me ) a Therapy Assistant.

    I have no idea who or what that is.

    I ask around .

    No one has any idea of who or what a Therapy Assistant is. Like, literally nobody!

    No one on my team has a clue. There are questions asked :

    Are they a T.A.F.E Student? A Support Worker with benefits? Who or what are they?

    Eventually we turn to Google and look up this mysterious profession. It doesn’t take long to realise that a Therapy Assistant is a person who comes along attempts to be a whole lot of Allied Health providers all at once – (while getting paid less than an Allied Health provider, I might add – hence the “Money Saver” angle they try and sell you) and their job is to try and implement all the things your Allied Health provider does without all the experience that goes with it.. Or, something like that anyway.

    Joy.

    At this news I completely lose my shit and have a breakdown. I am at a loss as to how I am going to cope with having to pay for all of these services ( I mean, I have my Allied Health team for a reason, guys! And while I’m at it.. What in God’s name I am going to do with this Therapy Assistant funding??) given my Husband and I are not made of money and have only just managed to clear up our last lot of debt. I lodge a complaint with the Office of The Honorable Bill Shorten MP and a representative from his office advises me that my Allied Health invoices can continue to be submitted and paid for under the NDIS

    In the meantime my Support Coordinator and I take steps to lodge an S100 – A Review of a Reviewable decision. We have 100 days to gather all the required information to support our argument that my Allied Health providers are imperative to my continued well being and continuing to function etc etc

    We began that process in August this year. It’s now December. Five days ago I got the email. In this new, new, new plan I now have just over $206K over a two year period.

    As far as my Allied Health Providers are concerned – They’ve kept my Podiatrist, my Physiotherapist, my Occupational Therapist and 2023’s Money Saver of The Year – Therapy Assistant– in … While giving my Exercise Physiologist, my Psychologist my Remedial Masseuse and my Chiropractor the ass claiming either that “Not enough evidence was provided” or “We believe an Occupational Therapist will suffice in these areas” which is an absolute load of bull-twang. There were 40 very heavily worded, exceptionally well written documents submitted for my S100 .. and, frankly, what it all boils down to is one extraordinarily lazy NDIS person by the name of Neerusha who skimmed the whole lot because they couldn’t be bothered to read it properly.. Thus here we ( my Support Coordinator and I) are again. Another 100 days. Another round of reports and supportive letters explaining why these things are important to my mental health and general wellbeing .. Etc Etc Ect …

    It just never seems to end.

    Thanks for reading

    Ceej

    *I wish there was some kind of sarcastic font for this.

  • The Cafe With No Cutlery.

    This blog is a little late.

    Have not long gotten home from doing the grocery shopping with Hubby and running a few errands down at Chirnside Park.

    For those not familiar with Chirnside Park, it is one of many local shopping precincts near my house ( I live near 4 such places) and while its smaller and doesn’t boast as many shops as the others, it is the most disabled friendly by design and thus I get to zoom along in Eleanor Whillie and join in the fun.

    Today I also purchased a new handbag ( one that’s easier to carry while going out and about) a new hat ( more about that in a moment ) and a quick pit stop at SpecSavers to get my glasses adjusted, cleaned properly and get a quote on some potential transition lenses or sunglasses.

    Todays weather has been nothing short of spectacular and to be able to go out in it – despite the obstacles I currently face (and believe me, there’s a lot) makes me very happy.

    However, I digress. Today’s outing is not the purpose of today’s blog. By now, I would wager, you’re probably wondering what the title of today’s blog has to do with my shopping extravaganza and the answer, dear reader, is nothing. Absolutely nothing.

    It has everything to do with what I got up to yesterday!

    ( And if you’ve read you’ve read this far, then I congratulate you for sticking it out with me)

    Yesterday I went here:

    Park Orchards Market is held the 3rd Sunday of every month 10am -2pm at the local Primary School

    It was my first time at a local market and I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed the atmosphere. It was also my first trip back to Park Orchids (it’s literally 15 minutes from my house) since 1995. Back then, it had one bus that travelled there every hour and it was one of those small *blink and you miss it* places that no one really paid any mind to – unless you had to go there.

    In the 20 years since it has grown to be quite the affluent suburb where the locals know everyone ( and their business apparently .. but you didn’t hear that from me) and houses are worth in the vicinity of $1 million dollars + on any day ending in Y .

    The people of Park Orchids seem to be quite the snobs .. what, with their fancy cars, designer dogs ( in lieu of designer children) and the suspected illicit affairs taking place right under your nose – just as you sit down for lunch. (Long story, I’m getting there, I promise)

    That is, except the lovely folks at the Park Orchids monthly market. As I have already said, it was my first time at a Market like this and I was pleasantly surprised at what I saw there.

    Through my NDIS plan, each fortnight I am granted Community Access with a support worker. I have an allocated 5 hours whereby I can go out and do some small activity independent from my Husband -who is also my full time carer – and give him a break from taking care of me. I can pretty much do as I wish – Go to the movies, do some shopping, visit a reserve, go out for lunch, visit a friend – any number of activities as long as it’s none to costly and can be completed within the allocated 5 hours

    Yesterday’s choice was the Market. There were plenty of things to look at and peruse as well as live music from a local musician. Entry was free (bar a gold coin donation) and plenty to eat and drink .

    Members of the CFA popped in ( For my American Readers – CFA stands for Country Fire Authority. They are a group of volunteers who are trained as Firefighters to assist during our Summer bushfire season) which kept the little ones entertained for hours!

    Myself and my Support Worker “Miss B” spent a good few hours there . I went away with a lovely scented candle, some homemade Baklava and Turkish Delight and a jar of Christmas Pesto (your basic basil & pine nut mix combined with sweet chilli and cranberries – Bloody delicious!)

    Pleased with my purchases, Miss B and I decided to go and find a local Cafe for lunch.

    We found a small place just down the road and around the corner (Eleanor Whillie and I had an interesting time navigating the wee bumps, cracks and dips in the pavement) and although they had no disabled access to speak of – they were soon able to rustle up an extra table from inside and bring it outside.. which was nice of them.

    We placed our order ( Two Chicken Schnitzel burgers) and waited. ….. And waited ….. And ..waited. Almost an hour after we placed our order our meals finally arrived. We thanked the waitress?? Owner?? I dunno .. and began to eat.. Only to discover we were not given any cutlery! Not a knife. Not a fork . Not a spoon. Nothing.

    Thank God for fingers .. am I right?

    So there we were eating our meager meal, with our fingers, in the well do to suburb of Park Orchards, surrounded by snotty nosed well-to-do’s with their designer doggo’s (OK, so the one we saw was cute AF and super friendly) all the while listening to ( not deliberately I might add) a guy who spoke a few too many decibels above fucking reasonable – discuss his vacation plans with his (future ex – I could just tell. Girl was bored and annoyed as hell) Girlfriend/ Wife/ Fling to Singapore over a cup of coffee.

    While I won’t go into anymore detail – because frankly, it’s none of my business but ….Some things are best left discussed in private, you know what I mean? Not loudly at a Cafe with no cutlery ( did they even get a spoon, I wonder?) on a Saturday afternoon in a place where everyone gonna be knowing your business by the time you ask for the cheque.

    Over all, it was a lovely afternoon and I am seriously thinking of going back. Everyone was super friendly there and I was so sorely tempted to buy one of everything!

    If you’re ever in the area – do check them out.

    Who knows what you’ll find

    Ceej

  • The One Where I Was Tired ….

    I had plans of writing a blog today .. Instead I have no energy and my eyes are all puffy and itchy

    Anyway, I do apologize and we’ll try again next week

    Ceej