Tuesday, May 15, 2012
I have no brother. Just one sister. Apparently after I was born, my father left it too long before deciding he wanted to try for a boy and I had started school. My mother then said, sorry, but no. S I only ever had a sister. Lordy, our house must have been quiet at times. We were both big readers. Up until early primary school, I was my sister's willing slave and then the worm turned, some of the fights we had. A lot included her clawing me with her rather long nails. Others involved her chasing me in a rage through the house. The best thing was being able to lock her out of the house and not opening it until later and hiding until she calmed down. All while mum and dad were at work. Good times. By high school when she was desperately trying to be cool, I became an embarrassing liability and the gap between us appeared. After that, somewhere along the line I subconsciously decided to become the polar opposite of her. She was well behaved, high achieving academically and pleasant. To the point where she used to get wheeled out at gatherings to sing and play her guitar. At which point I would disappear. So I rebelled, big time. The gap widened. She went to uni and I went nowhere for quite some time. She got married at 21, having gotten her degree and I had the baby a year after her wedding. While my daughter drew us together a bit (the family could see I was actually taking proper care of her), it wasn't enough, the gap widened. There were harsh words said on both sides, but I never really could understand why I was so wholeheartedly rejected. Still don't. When our house burned down she gave us some money with no expectation that it would be paid back and flew up to see me prior to my first brain surgery. So I guess underneath, she does love me, she just doesn't like me. I can honestly say I don't really know her enough to know whether I like her and that's a shame. Interestingly she's always tried to encourage her boys to be friends (go figure, she has no insight into our relationship or the irony). I know that I hope my kids won't be like me and her, so far the oldest 2 are ok. We'll just see.
I wonder how many people younger than gen x can remember them, particularly those that didn't come from Melbourne. Sharpies were a weird offshoot of skinheads a lot of them wore the shaven head, but with rat tails at the base of the skull. Even the girls. They "evolved" in the erly 70s and I guess developed a reputation for all sorts of shenanigans, including fighting, petty crime, drug use etc. They evolved into gangs, like the Vic sharps, followed by the West side sharps. God knows why, since they used to hang out north and south of the city, but anyway. They also used to have gang fights with other gangs, such as the Broadie boys (from Broadmeadows)and the black dragons (Lebanese gang). Just to mix it up a bit. Anywho, by the time I met the remnants of them, some had died from either drug overdoses and one got beaten to death on a train, apparently and others were serious drug users. Therefore, as an organized gang, they were starting to fall apart. Still, they had enough anti glamour to attract lots like myself. Rebellious and wanting a thrill. Needless to say, couple of years later, I cut ties with them and was left with a life in shambles, including a decent drug habit. I met my ex around then and have 3 "sharpie" children with him. I don't know what became of most of them. I know a few more died and I suspect more died as well. Interestingly Magda szubanski hung around with sharpies as a young girl. I was always struck by how authentic her portrayal of Shazza (and weasel) was in Fast Forward. Now I know why. I may eventually write about the incident that led me to cutting ties with the gang. It's still a bit painful, still.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Yes, physiotherapists. Useful to the doctor or nurse to refer to, not really fun to see as a client of theirs. I saw a number of allied health specialists in 2010. The list: physio, OT, speechie and neuropsychology. Disturbingly more than 1 of some of each specialty. I also had to see my GP regularly, as well as various medical specialists and a particular part of the X-ray department....... This year I've just had to see physio. In particular the balance clinic at UQ (uni of Qld). Students under the beady eyes of their lecturers and supervisors provide physio cheaper than usual (private clinic). This service is aimed at those with neurological and balance issues. The sessions were tiring in themselves. They involved a lot of had turning and trying to keep focused on an object in front of me. Walking and turning of the head (and staggering) and my personal favourite (not) the tandem walk. This involves walking with one foot directly in front of the other, with heel touching toe. Imagine trying to walk on a long line of tape on the floor. This also involves rather a lot of staggering. Then there were the exercises. Yes, starting at 3 sets, 5 times per day, increasing to 5-6 sets, 5 times per day as well as a walk, preferably all terrain every day. This was fine before I went back to work, but harder and harder to do the more hours I put in at work. At one of the last sessions I plainly stated that I didn't have the time a significant part of the week due to work commitments. I was asked if I had a lunch break. Seriously?? Yes, I stated, but I tended to eat...because I was hungry then. So we came to a compromise, that I would do the exercises whenever I could. Anywho, last week was my last session, bar a review in a few months. While I still have a degree of dizziness and my balance ain't the best, it's better. I don't think it will ever be perfect, but that's ok. So thanks UQ. BTW,all uni's have different clinics that helps students gain real experience and provides services quicker than the public system and cheaper than the private system. The students are usually fairly senior and are very well supervised. For example:Monash uni, the legal advice service, UQ, the balance clinic, QUT a dressings clinic and podiatry clinic and Griffith the dental clinic. Go to the website for a uni near you and look up their clinics for their services.
Every year I come up against it. Mother's day comes and I have actually share it, or nearly share it. Yes. G has his birthday. He says without a hint of shame that he was born on mother's day and was the best gift his mother ever got. So, inevitably one of us gets kind of forgotten and if it's G, I feel guilty. Grrr. Any way, we went to the pub for tea tonight for him.