My sister explained that she had reached both of my managers, one of whom had only been supervising me for the previous two months. Then she began reading out to me the well wishes from my friends from work and roller derby, being conveyed on various Facebook posts. At first, she was replying to everyone individually, but towards the end of the day, she had reverted to simply liking their comments and replying solely to messages via Messenger, more so to conserve her mental energy than anything else. Then she explained to me that one of my friends from the roller derby league had made contact with her, offering to help organise some kind of fundraiser to assist with my bills. I have been a part of these campaigns, but have never been the person who they have been organised for. I didn’t know how to feel, aside from a massive amount of gratitude for them, feeling as if I were cared for, that people understood that this wasn’t a simple thing that I’d walk away from in a few days. They understood, in part, at least that I was going to have a fight on my hands to get back what I had lost.
Also, my sister was concerned about what would happen if I couldn’t go back to work straight away. Remember, this was still early, like three days post-surgery early. They were still waiting to see if I had any complications, like a stroke or spasm. Talk of returning to work was put on hiatus, although they had mentioned a fluctuating scale of three to six months at a minimum. She already began making calls to Centrelink to see what had to be done. Of course, as I had been at both of my jobs for a while, I’d have to use up all my sick/personal leave before they would consider giving me benefits. I was quick to assure my sister that I’d have enough in account to cover immediate home expenses, having been scheduled to be paid from one of my jobs that week. I had also received an extra payment from one of them after having been underpaid for the previous six months or more. Fortunately, I knew that, and knew that I was okay financially, at least until I got out of hospital. Someone had already come along and taken my private health insurance details so that the hospital could claim what they could before medicare took care of the rest
I tried not to think about the Centrelink issues. I didn’t want to think about those things. Having been a part of the unemployment system long term, I knew that dealing with it now would be a serious hit to my mental health if I spent too much time thinking about it, and I just wanted to focus on trying to get better.
On Wednesday, I asked my sister to give me my phone back to me. When no one else was there, I was starting to feel a bit isolated, and I wanted to know that others were doing something productive, even if I wasn’t feeling like I was able to. I promised her that I wouldn’t make or take any calls, but I just wanted it there with me as a comfort sort of thing I suppose.
When I logged on to my Facebook account, I was overwhelmed with messages, wishing me well while I was in recovery. There was a lot of shock and disbelief that it had happened (my sister had the foresight to let me know that this was a possibility). So, that afternoon, I began thinking of the words that I could use to tell everyone that I was starting to feel a lot better.
It took me two attempts, writing on the Notes app on my phone. The reason it took me half an hour each time was, no surprise, due to my fingers not working in the way that I wanted them to. Eventually, I got my message out to the world, with my usual self-depreciating sense of humour running through it.
The words as printed:
“The Trish Update”
Ok, so here it goes. Today has been the first day that I have been able to cope with doing phone things.
My brain exists and I have all the scans and operation to make sure it works properly.
It was scary especially at the first night because I didn’t believe it was real and kept trying to escape from the bed.
I am slowly turning into a purple berry because apparently I am incredibly difficult to draw blood from.
Food isn’t great but then it took me three days to want to eat.
I get up to walk to the bathroom (and that is something I never thought about before), otherwise I sleep.
I still struggle with three litres of water I have to drink to help minimise strokes.
Things I am grateful for:
My family, especially my sister who has dealt with the next of kin handball in freaking amazing style. Seriously she has been are amazing.
Another family friend who has come up today to tidy things at my place and to take my car back to Ararat where it won’t be potentially vandalised and they can run it occasionally to keep the battery in top condition.
And all of you lovely Facebook people! The show of support has been an awe to see.
My bosses at both of my jobs have been so supportive given the ambiguity of everything this week.
The struggle I am going through at the moment and has completely blindsided me. Went in with a horrible headache to BHS, got a chest scan and went home, returned to BHS two days after and got the CAT scan.
Mentally I have accepted that I will be unable to continue with Stampede for the remainder of the tournament and some time I may also have to acknowledge that even Media Liaison may be too much for me as well but not ready for that discussion yet.
I have my phone but at the moment can you please continue to contact with my sister as she will have up to date info about where and how I am. I won’t be taking or making a lot of calls
This will remain a public note until end of weekend to allow sharing with relevant people.
As you can see, grammar wasn’t exactly on my mind at the time, although now I mentally cringe at the way it is written. As the Note App is not something that usually picks up on spelling or grammatical errors, I am pretty pleased I was able to communicate in my usual way to assure everyone online that some things never really change.
Also, my sister was concerned about what would happen if I couldn’t go back to work straight away. Remember, this was still early, like three days post-surgery early. They were still waiting to see if I had any complications, like a stroke or spasm. Talk of returning to work was put on hiatus, although they had mentioned a fluctuating scale of three to six months at a minimum. She already began making calls to Centrelink to see what had to be done. Of course, as I had been at both of my jobs for a while, I’d have to use up all my sick/personal leave before they would consider giving me benefits. I was quick to assure my sister that I’d have enough in account to cover immediate home expenses, having been scheduled to be paid from one of my jobs that week. I had also received an extra payment from one of them after having been underpaid for the previous six months or more. Fortunately, I knew that, and knew that I was okay financially, at least until I got out of hospital. Someone had already come along and taken my private health insurance details so that the hospital could claim what they could before medicare took care of the rest
I tried not to think about the Centrelink issues. I didn’t want to think about those things. Having been a part of the unemployment system long term, I knew that dealing with it now would be a serious hit to my mental health if I spent too much time thinking about it, and I just wanted to focus on trying to get better.
On Wednesday, I asked my sister to give me my phone back to me. When no one else was there, I was starting to feel a bit isolated, and I wanted to know that others were doing something productive, even if I wasn’t feeling like I was able to. I promised her that I wouldn’t make or take any calls, but I just wanted it there with me as a comfort sort of thing I suppose.
When I logged on to my Facebook account, I was overwhelmed with messages, wishing me well while I was in recovery. There was a lot of shock and disbelief that it had happened (my sister had the foresight to let me know that this was a possibility). So, that afternoon, I began thinking of the words that I could use to tell everyone that I was starting to feel a lot better.
It took me two attempts, writing on the Notes app on my phone. The reason it took me half an hour each time was, no surprise, due to my fingers not working in the way that I wanted them to. Eventually, I got my message out to the world, with my usual self-depreciating sense of humour running through it.
The words as printed:
“The Trish Update”
Ok, so here it goes. Today has been the first day that I have been able to cope with doing phone things.
My brain exists and I have all the scans and operation to make sure it works properly.
It was scary especially at the first night because I didn’t believe it was real and kept trying to escape from the bed.
I am slowly turning into a purple berry because apparently I am incredibly difficult to draw blood from.
Food isn’t great but then it took me three days to want to eat.
I get up to walk to the bathroom (and that is something I never thought about before), otherwise I sleep.
I still struggle with three litres of water I have to drink to help minimise strokes.
Things I am grateful for:
My family, especially my sister who has dealt with the next of kin handball in freaking amazing style. Seriously she has been are amazing.
Another family friend who has come up today to tidy things at my place and to take my car back to Ararat where it won’t be potentially vandalised and they can run it occasionally to keep the battery in top condition.
And all of you lovely Facebook people! The show of support has been an awe to see.
My bosses at both of my jobs have been so supportive given the ambiguity of everything this week.
The struggle I am going through at the moment and has completely blindsided me. Went in with a horrible headache to BHS, got a chest scan and went home, returned to BHS two days after and got the CAT scan.
Mentally I have accepted that I will be unable to continue with Stampede for the remainder of the tournament and some time I may also have to acknowledge that even Media Liaison may be too much for me as well but not ready for that discussion yet.
I have my phone but at the moment can you please continue to contact with my sister as she will have up to date info about where and how I am. I won’t be taking or making a lot of calls
This will remain a public note until end of weekend to allow sharing with relevant people.
As you can see, grammar wasn’t exactly on my mind at the time, although now I mentally cringe at the way it is written. As the Note App is not something that usually picks up on spelling or grammatical errors, I am pretty pleased I was able to communicate in my usual way to assure everyone online that some things never really change.