Monday, November 30, 2015

e-paperwork denied

I was bundling e-paperwork together for submission when I found I'd burned the blank templates to disc instead of the filled in ones.

I have to admit I had an angry cry (slash) shakes fist at the Gods moment when I discovered it.

I had a Valium and applied some CBT. I worked out the best way ahead and it just means a delay, not a re-do.

In the moment I was overwhelmed; angry, juddering tears at the bureaucracy mountain I have to climb.

But I will keep climbing; the only alternative is to fall.


Sunday, November 29, 2015

Twenty five years

It's been 25 years since I finished year 12.

If you'd said then that any of the stuff that happened to me would happen to me I would not have believed you.

Life; what a crazy, fun ride. 

We had our "schoolies" at Coffs Harbour in NSW. It was fun. Except I didn't have dress shoes so could not go to the night clubs. So I stayed back at the motel and read Commando comics bought from the local book exchange instead. 

Now that is me.

Saturday, November 28, 2015

The surprise was thinking there'd be no impact

There was a half-eaten Santa-themed Kinder Surprise (1) on the partial wall that surrounds the kitchen.

It was after midnight and I was peckish.

So I ate it.

This morning I realised I needed to go when still at the shops getting morning papers so made haste for home. When I got to go—and it was a close call—it was massaman all over again. And I blame the Kinder Surprise—the milkiest of all milky chocolate.

Actually I blame me. I shouldn't have eaten it. I mean why contribute to already disquieted IBS?

I'll tell you why. Because I am weak and because I honestly thought that such a little amount couldn't possibly have an impact.

How wrong I was—because that resulted in a three flusher. I already knew it would be a twofer—I flushed twice—but I didn't hang around to check. That's how bad it was, that it needed a third go, and I found out when a hotly theboy demanded to know who left it there.

Curse you, Kinder Surprises.  

(1) It was theboy's. He cranked up when he found out I stole it. So for him the entire experience was a twofer—denied chocolate then saw toilet chocolate; horrid, horrid, toilet chocolate. 

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Bull; horns; grappled

As a person with multiple disabilities I have to do a fair amount of paperwork—lots of form filling—though much of it can be done online.

But even e-paperwork bites the wang.

Alas the e-paperwork must be grappled with and today I took a chunk of it by the horns. Naturally at step six of the online submission the router spaced out and I was in danger of having to start again. I rebooted the router and waited with trepidation and amused annoyance—because of course the router would space out at that moment, the moment a chunk of stressful paperwork was to be submitted. 

It came good and the submission was confirmed—and I knocked it over before one o'clock.

Earlier I met with my psychologist. 

It was cathartic. I wasn't angry and I didn't cry. I told her of my animal brain's woes but how I was using the CBT her colleague taught me to cope with moments of acute anxiety and how I am not actively anxious—just reactive. That I am calm even when soaked in fear because calm me tells fear me that fear me will calm.

I left, caught the bus home, knocked over the task, and now ... now I ride. 


(Mikey mounts SoTPC which rears as Mikey draws his sabre and then the dual of man and exercise bike thunders towards the opposition)

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Not worried about the US elections in 2016

I'm not that worried. Barack Obama will campaign for the Democratic nominee and the nominee, if it's any of the three running, will be buoyed from that support—and deserve it too. People forget Obama's power at getting out people to vote; Romney didn't even have a condolence speech prepared he was so sure Obama's machine would fail. Obama is the emperor of modern US presidential campaigning—and like Clinton (and, yes, G W), joined the two terms undefeated club.

Still, it's going to be an interesting election with just under a year to go. Whilst I admire the comedic chops of Trevor Noah I do miss Jon Stewart—the sheer wealth of material that he would have gloried with. I expect someone is going to offer Jon Stewart a Dick Cavett or Larry King style talk show where he has full creative control. That, or to run CNN.

Anyway, the US elections. Pretty much the most awesome elections evah—and you couldn't make this shit up. Seriously. An editor would say "19 characters is too many; this isn't Game of Thrones"—and that is (slash) was just the GOP side.

It's just glorious; pass the popcorn.

Voided self; saw doctor

I was on my way to the doctor and just passed the mall's toilets when I felt the urge. I dashed into the disabled cubicle, gingerly lowered then voided—it was like I'd taken massaman beef sauce and thrown it from the door in the vague direction of the bowl.

It was beyond hideous. I cleaned up, checked in and with still roiling guts and waited. I had my appointment, got my assorted paperwork then headed home. The afterglow of the reverse PAG still ripples with fierce pride around my midsection. 

I got through the appointment without crying and without anger—and was able to talk calmly about my latest grapple with active anxiety and it's because of experience and acceptance.

It's empowering to know when you're mentally and physically ill that you're mentally and physically ill—it's not a failure of will, it's a psychological and physiological reaction due to injury and susceptibility (1). To know what you're experiencing—because you've experienced it before—makes the process bearable. I can step out of a shaking, guts-exploded animal fear-soaked self and realise this is normal, this has happened before, and we will get through it (2).

I wear my depression and anxiety like armour—out and proud. They make me a better person. 

The shitty side of it, however, is they literally give me the shits.

(double flushes massaman beef).

(1) theWife has to remind me that I am mentally ill. That there are some things beyond me and I have to think with logic.
(2) "we" because there's two of me in that scenario; Hyde me and Jekyll me. Though if you'd ask me which is the more evil sounding name I would have said Jekyll. When you think about it Jekyll is the true monster because he knowingly turns himself into Hyde and Hyde is cchemically-induced animal psyche run amok

Monday, November 23, 2015

Tablet back, back to normal

My trusty Acer tablet suffered a glitch a while back but fortunately it was under warranty. I had to nail the date and total amount of purchase to prove I got it from where I got it and that it was less than 12 months old to get it accepted but once it was I got it back inside two weeks. I've been making do with theboy's mini-iPad and my iPhone5 but it's been irritating—especially with the return of hand tremours that makes navigating small screens difficult.

So I got the tablet out of the box and got to work setting it up. One reset of a password and much swearing later I was back online. I even managed to put Kindle back on and sign into my account without too much hassle—although the cloud had forgotten where I was up to in the ebook I was kindling when the tablet crashed. 

It's nice to have that weight back in my hand and to have a screen that big to navigate and read with.

There you have it—a successful warranty-activated adventure. However, I accept the chance there is the chance, ala Logan's Run (1), that there may be a self-destruct bit of code in there that's set to blow not long after when the warranty expires and which will nudge me to get a new machine. 

No ... that's too evil.

Or is it?

UPDATE: The fucker crapped out with the same error not less than four days later. Mendoza!

(1) There's this scene in the movie where the protagonist activates a random sexual encounter teleporter that basically teleports in a woman who wishes to have sex. It's a bit like one of those apps for hooking up only with less transmission and reassembly of living matter. Yes, their society invented a teleporter—an incredible leap of technological science—and they basically just used it to get it on with randos. Good one, Logan.

Bending hard; vomit to clean

theboy is sick with something that makes him vomit. He threw up in the corridor on the polished wood floor. 

I can't bend without pain and distress.

In the end I braced my legs against the walls of the intersection where it happened and gripped the corner of the wall as I lowered myself enough to clean it. 

I got there in the end then managed to lever myself back to standing with a sopping paper towel of sick held within the grasp of a half-towel of mopped up sick. 

And I have my legs. I could have if I needed to got on the floor with pain and discomfort but that's better than people who can't even do that. 

I realise I am blessed with ill health.


Sunday, November 22, 2015

From two years past and just as true

From where I sit in the shed with the laptop when I look up I see a tranche of statements of worth along with the date.

One of them is "I'm the wizard of Oz" from two years ago.

And it's still true. 

I get to walk the earth knowing I mattered. Not many people get to do that—and I achieved it not in spite of disabilities but because of them.

Having super un-powers is the trade for super powers but it's a trade worth making; I got to be the change we see in the world.


UPDATE: The leaf blower was on and we have a small house with a swampie air conditioner which means the windows need to be open a crack to refresh the air. I thought I was okay with the noise then rapidly became not okay. I frantically searched for ear plugs, found none, grabbed the car keys, ran outside, wrenched open the door bending back a little finger nail, couldn't find the car set of plugs, abandoned the car and run-flopped up the street in my new brown slippers as fast as I could safely go.

Panicked running in slippers is not recommended. I had to run-flop until I couldn't perceive the drone of the blower and ended up opposite the new house that replaced the one that burned down two years before. 

I paced and waited and tore off the damaged nail and paced and waited then eventually risked a return. 

I now know where the ear plugs are with one set in the kitchen and a set in a small plastic tub in the shed. I think I'll invest in some sort of industrial strength ear protection as well, like big fuck-off ear muffs they wear on construction sites.

So please let me stress the super un-powers do bite the wang. Even if they're worth it.