Monday, April 20, 2015

Stigma in a name.





Stigma in a name


Handicapped.
Some people show distaste for those with a visible handicap.
The word handicap has many different cognations.
I don't see it as something a few people are afflicted with.
To me. Everyone is born with one, or another, disadvantage.
Sight is one. If not born with it blindness may form at a later time.
The same for hearing. Due to a reason, or accident, you lose your hearing. Hearing aids are needed. These are a curse of many people.
Bones and muscles may not form properly in the womb. Other problems might cause different, and difficult, reasons to cause an inconvenience for the child and parents. The cost of the health cover for years. The stress on both parents and patient. Wearing down of energy to cause health problems.
Then there are other handicaps for horse racing. Golf. Athletics. Car racing.
Different diseases which cause many people to become handicapped.
A car accident.
A fall from a horse.
A plane crash.
Dementia.
Stroke.
For many years, I cared for my mother. After years of hard work she became handicapped. Her problem was caused from smoking. Her body no longer made enough oxygen to keep her breathing without the aid of a machine. She had to walk around dragging a length of tubing to keep the level at the right percentage.
Even though I have my own handicaps due to Arthritis, I was expected to care for my mother. I hung in there until I was so exhausted I neared the edge to a nervous breakdown.
I broke into tears at the hospital. I was so tired I didn't know which way was up.
Until then I didn't know there were so many organisations available who might have been able to relieve me of the pressure of caring for my mother. Within weeks, my mother was settled into a nursing home.
Since my mothers death three years ago, I have tried to regain my life, energy, and dissipate with the excess stress which caused the body more problems.
I have just spent a few days away with a group of people who all had different degrees of handicaps.
Everyone was friendly.
Helped out each other on the bus, in the apartments, and with walking around the streets.
One young man had trouble speaking. When he couldn't make anyone understand he used hand signs. I have picked up the toilet and drink signs. He likes doing high fives with those he calls a friend.
I kept pretending I mixed up the names of two other males. Both seemed to feel left out. Needed attention. So I added them to doing the high five game.
Not once did I snub, or complain, about any of them I treated all of them the same way I'd wish to be treated if my difficulties deteriorate in the future.
A fear of heights, spiders, and many other such things can also be a handicap when you have set your heart on an occupation but can't manage your reaction.
Swimming is another fear. Because of something which has happened in the past you don't like water.
I know a lady who fell out of a car in the past. She formed a fear of riding in a car for months. I notice she talks a lot when she is travelling in any type of vehicle.
A child who has had a bad experience with a Santa Claus will have a fear for a long time. This is a handicap when Christmas approaches.
Derogative names are at times used by unthinking people. These people don't realise the damage they can cause. An act of stupidity when they treat the inflicted as a second, or third class, citizen. Each need to take a good look at their own life. Temper can be another handicap. Temper kills like any other handicap. Can cause someone to become more disadvantaged for the rest of their life.
Not one person is born. Perfect. With no flaws.



I have mine. But I still like to look on the bright side of life.



This is a piece I wrote on the topic of being "Handicapped". Didn't have some of what was needed for where I intended to send it. There wanted more of personal suffering while living with a family member. So I wrote another piece.








                 I had no help




Okay .Me. I was the daughter. Or I was suppose to be.
I had my own health problems with Arthritis. And stress related problems.
Being the only child everything was placed squarely on my shoulders. The weight of my mothers condition put a lot more strain on me.
My mother expected me to be able to carry the load as though I had no problems of my own.
We lived in the same house. I still live there.
My life was not my own. I was at her beck and call day and night.
I had to do the housework. The yard work. Shopping.
There were no one available to help with the care. Except for one of her sisters who came in for a few hours to talk with her. To give me a few hours to go out shopping.
Before my mother collapsed and still able to go out things weren't so bad. She was able to do some cooking. Did some crocheting and sewing. Was able to stand for a little while to be able to wash the dishes.
We'd just returned home one afternoon when my mother collapsed. She went to the toilet. She fell and hit her head on the wall. The oxygen level had fallen too low. This was a problem that hadn't been picked up before the collapse. She stopped breathing at the hospital. The doctors worked to bring her back.
From then on, she had to live on assisted oxygen. She couldn't leave home without it.
When she was stable enough to leave the hospital, the doctors organised to have a machine delivered to out home. Set it up. Giving me instructions on how it worked.
My work became ten fold more. I now had to be a nurse as well.
The cause of the lack of oxygen was put down to years of her smoking. Her lungs weren't making enough.
Help. No one told me there were options out there to take some of the stress from me.
Not that my mother would have accepted the assistance. She believed I was born to be there as her slave.
I just kept my thoughts to myself and soldiered on. My life and health flowing down the drain.
I wasn't getting my right amount of sleep. I listened to the dragging of the tube along the floor each time she went to the toilet. Listened until she returned to bed.
No one asked if I had help at home. They took it for granted she was better off at home. My mother thought the same.
Then came the moment of her last turn. The doctors put her on life support. She was flown to Brisbane. When she was reasonably well enough she was returned to the local hospital.
The time came for them to release her. That is when I went into meltdown.
Things moved fast then.
Someone came to assess her condition in the hospital.
Mum tried to lie her way through the interview.
I kept shaking my head.
The lady soon saw through her replies.
The day she was to go into rest care for a few weeks a place came up at a nursing home.
Looking back. The doctors should have let her be at the first attack.
My mother suffered through the next few years. Each time the oxygen level went down a few more brain cells died. She lived in the land of the fairies even though she still knew my name. We had to laugh at some of the things she said or we would have sat there crying.
The day she died was a blessing for her. And for me. Now was my time to heal. Catch up on all the years of missed sleep. To regain my life.
More information needs to be out there to let carers know what help is available. Where to go. Who to call. A booklet for the nursing staff to hand out to tell the family where they can look.
I was working in the dark. Only when I was close to the edge of a nervous break down did assistance come my way.

Information overload is needed.



Sunday, March 29, 2015

Antique collection

We went to a shed full of olden item from the past. There were a few thing I'd have liked to buy BUT I have no room to put them. So I took photos and brought them home that way at little cost to me. And I don't have to search for room to place them.
















 After our visit here, we got on the bus for the long drive home. We arrived home about six. Exhausted from the enjoyable day. We were away for nearly eleven hours. Had to rise before the birds to be on time for the bus.

Recent Trip



We stopped at a park to have morning tea. There was a Hippie Market not far from us. One of the stall owners had this joey. We all asked could we have a pat. It was very friendly.






This is Borumba Dam in the Mary Valley. I took these from the lookout.area. I'd hate to be those backing down the ramp to put the boats in the water. If the brakes failed the only place to go is into the water.
This was a very peaceful area. Everything green and refreshed after the past lot of floods.








We went to Imbil for lunch and to look around the town. We had a wonderful lunch at the hotel.





Sunday, March 1, 2015

Time with family.

After a day spent with extended families for the funeral of my uncle, some of us spent the day at the beach, before they had to return home. Some we only see once a year because they live in another state. The trip was long on the way up because floods had closed the main highways. An extra 500 km had to be traveled through back country to be here for the funeral. The sun shone down during the service.








Sunday, December 28, 2014

Happy New Year.



Santa and his mother. He drives the bus for our trips and she cooks the cakes for our morning teas. This was taken at out Christmas Party. Some went on the Christmas Bus Trip. I decided to stay home to rest.

My story of my Christmas. Some might say boring. But I've enjoyed the time spent resting, and catching up on jobs forgotten when I had a virus, and broken toe. At least I have found the plants among the weeds.

                                    Argh. Humbug.

Argh. Humbug.
Christmas has been. And gone.
All the hard work spend to celebrate one day.
All my cheer had left before the day arrived.
Joyful was washed away with exhaustion. The heat zapped away any remaining hope and little energy I had left.
Sound like I'd been preparing to have a house full of family.
No. This year I decided to chill out.
Not slave over a hot stove.
Not overeat.
I turned down all invitation to be with family. And friends.
The body told me to rest, and relax. To rejuvenate the system to be able to carry on into the mew year.
I believe Scrooge had the idea partly right. Except for working too hard.
I rearranged my time between pulling weeds. Watching houses. Computer work. With sleep and resting.
Not so exhausted, now. I'm catching up on my work.
I've decided to stock up what I need for Christmas well before the summer arrives. Have everything ready to serve out to eat. Cold. Less work.
The other option which came to mind was plan a holiday in a cooler climate. All service included.
No cooking.
No cleaning up.
No exhaustion, or stress.
The muscles won't be complaining of being over worked.
Even though I live on my own I don't have very much alone time. There always seems to be someone wanting a piece of my time. Time I might have to spend doing what I like to do.
I've sorted and filed all photos taken this year.
Edited a novel I have been working on. And have continued with the story.
Added work to one of my blogs.
Set more seeds to shot to give me more different coloured Desert Roses.
And still I haven't come up with a past, present, or future trait for a family Christmas.
This year, my Christmas Motel had a “CLOSED” sign on the door.
I ate when I felt hungry.
Slept when my body told me.
Worked in the garden when there was cool time.
Tried not to burn the skin when I stayed longer outside than I should have.
The battery is on charge to start my round of places to be in the New Year.
I even had an unexpected, flying visit from my son, daughter-in-law, and grandson, this morning.
Now, I've brought in the washing. I think I might take a “Nanny Nap” while the weather is at its hottest.
Maybe the brain will be back in working mode after the New Year.

Happy New Year.



These are Sunflowers grown by Mother Santa. Mine are only half the size. The seeds shot where I emptied the bird seed mess in the garden. I didn't intend for them to grow. I have left the plant grow for the wild birds to eat the seeds.

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Today I pay the piper



Why couldn't the sun have risen...later?
Every muscle ashes.
I rolled over to return to dreamland.
Oh. No. I wish the driver of the tilt train would keep his hand off of the whistle.
Ah. Well. I'd better rise to finish the job. Or try to.
Dressed. I gathered up the clothes to wash. Carried them down the steps to the laundry.
Once the washing was set I went to make a much needed coffee.
Slipping on gloves, I grabbed the handsaw on my way out the back door. I collected the rubbish bin on my way.
The parrots screeched. I had dared to disturb their morning feed. If anyone wanted to sleep in they'd be awake, now.
I had a job to do.
Anyway. I'd skipped my breakfast.
Picking up the pick I started the clean up. I kept a look out for toads. Or snakes. I cringed at the thought of either one appearing from the rubble.
My hands. And back. Complained.
Taking up the handsaw I cut the limbs into smaller pieces to fit in the bin.
I cursed. Why did I listen to Alice?
I had more work to do...now.
No more. I've had enough. They have to go.
The birds can complain all they like.
I need water. The ground is as hard as rock.
I looked. The hose too short to reach where I slaved. I didn't have the strength. Or energy. To carry buckets of water from the tank. When I need some rain its left the area.
Shoulder muscles burn from exhaustion. Tears of desperation aren't far away. Crying was out. I don't like to play the wimp role. Taking a deep breath I struggled inside for a drink. On the way inside I looked at the washing on the line. Would I have enough energy to make the bed. Or will the making have to wait until tomorrow?
Thump. Push. Groan. Remove the pick.
Thump. Push. Groan. Remove the pick.
The sweat trickled down from my forehead. I wipe my face on the sleeve of my shirt.
The bin is full. I pressed down on the parts to squish them down to make more room. I rake up the pieces to throw on top.
I'm exhausted. The heat from the sun has zapped away all my energy. My clothes are saturated and it's only nine o'clock.
I don't care if anyone sees what I have done I'll try to remove the rest. Later. Come rain. Hail. Or darkness.
I need a shower to wash away the...grime. The evidence of what I should not have attempted to do.



Sunday, July 20, 2014

Water Features

The topic for the month is slow exposure.
I hadn't had time to read all the information about to use my camera.
So how did I do slow exposure. Well. There was only one way to find out. Experiment.
I like snapping people - unawares. I get better action shots that way.
I decided to practice what I thought would work.
I focused the camera on the water feature. Zoomed in for a close-up.
Pressed down on the shutter button. I held it in place for a few seconds then let go. I took another one.
I switched to assessing mode.
I had succeed.
Both photos had a different shape in water which slowly fell.
So I stopped at each water feature throughout the ground which were on display. And another of a fountain in a lake from the sixth floor of an apartment building.
Following are some of the different shapes I captured with slow exposure.








Also the sun rising above the building next to where I stayed. Slow exposed.