What a week

Nearby disused storage tank

It’s been one of those weeks where everything hits at once. Great news: I don’t have dementia. I do have severe depression, and when physical pain and systemic frustration pile up like they have over the last few days, it takes everything not to let the weight crush you.

Last Thursday was a logistical nightmare that turned into a physical disaster. With our car in the garage, I had to rely on public transport to get to my hand therapy appointment at Brisbane Private Hospital. What should have been a simple commute became a grueling obstacle course—navigating a total of 109 stairs across the journey, including all 86 steps of Jacob’s Ladder.

Between a broken wheelchair lift, steep incline, and hauling myself up those steps one painful push at a time, my body took a beating. Stupidly, using my left hand at the first flight from Adelaide to Ann street to grip a handrail triggered sharp, shooting pains in my wrist right after making good progress in therapy. Worse, the exertion flared up excruciating pain below my right knee and a stabbing ache in my right hip, leaving my mobility severely compromised.

By the time I tried to head home, a packed bus meant no priority seating, forcing me to give up, hobble down Adelaide Street, and wait in Hutton Lane for my husband to collect me.

Adding insult to injury is the ongoing battle with the insurer. They previously denied my right hip claim, citing “no material change.” Yet the objective imaging tells a completely different story: moving from joint space reduction in late 2022 to severe, bone-on-bone contact, sclerosis, and large osteophytes by early 2026. Carrying a 6–7 kg laptop bag on a commute isn’t just an inconvenience—mechanically, it adds dynamic force to a joint that is already structurally failing.

To top off the noise, I’ve ditched Facebook and Instagram for the third time. Bluesky is a bit less satisfying, but stepping away from the main algorithmic circus feels necessary right now.

I’m resting, recovering, and preparing for my next steps. One foot in front of the other—even when every single step is a fight.