Some brains need it. Some overscheduled people need it. Some lazy people need it. And sometimes those prone to neglect themselves need it.
My routines are off and it’s adding to my exhaustion.
I haven’t been as diligent about turning my screens off at least an hour before bed (it doesn’t help that Katherine Ramsland’s new novel is an electronic ARC and I want to read it). And I have not risen from bed with any enthusiasm. I’ve been reading electronic versions of the newspaper instead of starting my day.
When I finally start my day, I have been met by mice the last two days.
Yesterday one laid at rest in the middle of my dining room floor. And this morning a baby, still barely alive, sat at the feet of the Teenager’s cat, Mistofelees, who guarded it from the others like a vicious beast.
Now I am left to wonder if something else is going on. Did someone disturb these critters up the block? Has the change in weather impacted their routines for finding food, water and shelter? Have my neighbors gotten careless storing their dog food again? Does the Teenager need to check her cupboard? Has the new “cat tube” and catio left a space for the mice to enter the house?
Speaking of routine, I organized my clean clothes last week into outfits, but never carried the basket upstairs. I’ve been getting dressed in the living room. I never packed lunch for today, but I have some chicken in the fridge that may be safe to eat. I think it would be delicious to take a bagel and toast it at work, add the pesto chicken and one of the mozzarella cheese sticks and melt it in the microwave. But that sounds like a lot of work for my 30 minute lunch.
So I will probably just have the chicken.
I have three more paychecks left. The mortgage looms in the back of my mind, because as soon as the car insurance bill comes, my savings will be gone. The Teenager starts college in two-ish weeks, so her income will decline.
There is no easy way to face this uncertain future. To self-soothe, I walk the routine and swallow my panic.
Folks, I don’t feel like writing this. I’ve had so many demands on my time that I don’t even think about what I can write or when I might have the time to do it. I’ve had one job interview, told one I wasn’t interested and have a third coming up Monday. Today was the first day at least this week that I didn’t feel like my leg would fail to support me.
I had some incidents last week where my overscheduled life led to idiocy (like leaving the rats in their play area, leaving the house and driving 20 minutes away before I remembered them) and some joyful times too, but honestly I feel like I write my calendar out on Sunday and don’t even have a chance to look at it until Thursday.
I gave my doctor the new paperwork for the absence management company last Thursday and I haven’t seen any evidence that they received it. I continue to struggle through my issues at work (though today was the day where I didn’t feel like my body was falling apart all day but more on that in a minute) meanwhile… I have a hard time keeping my feelings in check when I see others milking whatever they can to get special treatment at work.
One woman had a migraine all week but did her job.
Today we had a massive barbecue at work, and an appreciation luncheon yesterday, as the local managers rush to spend their budgets before we lose our jobs. Despite this feasting, I have lost 2 pounds according to the doctor’s office (and I hope that it might be more since I have increased my sodium so much that their should be some water retention with that).
In the photos, you can see some of us going through the food line, my friends concentrating on their bingo cards, and a friend’s demolished plate.
After all of this, I went to a new cardiologist. A female. I swear I know her from my nonprofit work and I have to wonder if she served on a board somewhere I worked. Yesterday, I went to the chiropractor, my beloved Nicole Jensen of Back in Line, and then went to work out with Andrew at Apex Training.
So, I told everyone my theory. And to date, no one, including the new cardiologist, has disagreed.
Fact: In January, my blood pressure went up. I don’t know why. I was taking Lexapro at the time to try and keep my blood pressure lower, because it was due to stress (and I had lost my father a year early and don’t hear from my other family members, even when I try to reach out so the idea of a low dose SSRI didn’t seem like a bad idea). I had been on that medication about a year. I also take baclofen to help my legs move better, which I started more consistently in November, but had been taking since May. My doctor advised me to watch my diet and my sodium.
Event 1: March 1 I dove down the eight concrete stairs at work, smashed my finger (in a bad sprain that has left it still quite bent) and almost passed out after the event. My blood pressure was fine.
Anecdotal evidence: I had eaten a lot of fast food that weekend.
Sidenote: Saw the hand rehab specialist/occupational therapist for the first time during the day March 13, went to work late, and had set up balance physical therapy to begin March 20 at the request of my doctor.
Event 2: At the end of the day March 13, about 7:30 p.m., I fell down the stairs going up to my room after a big meal. I had had Little Ceasars and Taco Bell that weekend. The bruising on my back knocked the wind out of me and my face was gushing blood where I had slammed it into the air conditioner that my daughter had rested on the floor. Went to the ER for stitches, found out I was in afib.
It took some time after that to get the results of the heart monitor back (I’m fine), and it took some dickering so the beta blocker didn’t give me low blood pressure and postural hypotension. But I kept having episodes of each.
Later, in June, I was told to stop taking the SSRI because I had a risk of fatal arrhythmia.
I asked my doctor to see the nutritionist and she said I was not eating enough salt because of the cardiac diet recommended and washing what sodium I did eat out of my system. Within three days, I felt 90% of myself.
Now, I mention all of this because one of my original theories about why this had happened addressed salt. I had thought the universe was punishing me for eating all that bad food, and my first cardiologist whom I saw in the hospital, pushed the idea away. And that’s why I went to a new doctor.
I also believe the afib could have been caused by the bodily trauma of my fall down the stairs. And that I feel so awful when my blood pressure is 110/60 because of my cerebral palsy– that my body just needs more than that to make this body move.
And my new doctor believes that I’m on the right track. That:
Lack of salt might have initiated the symptoms which led to the falls in the first place.
I might never have an incident of afib again.
And — when I’m ready– we can potentially change or eliminate the beta blocker.
Honestly, with losing my job this fall, I’m not sure now is the time to take my heart off anything that helps keep me calm. She also mentioned that I might do better on an extended release formula.
That’s all I got. And this took up the last of my free time. Sigh.
If you read my post on Monday, when I was in tears and in pain all at the same time, you might recall that the absence management company used by my employer denied my most recent absence on the grounds that I am only “allowed” to have one episode per month, according to how they read the form that my doctor filled out multiple times.
Now, I know some doctors are more idiot than useful, but I assure you mine is not. For him (or my neurologist/physiatrist for that matter), I would gladly hand over one of my O- organs should he ever need a kidney or a live liver donor or a lung (I have two). So it irritates me beyond belief that the absence management company sends out a four page form but always bases the determination on one question.
It’s just hard. I work with a lot of people, and few people know how hard it is to have a body that works great one day and completely fails the next. And most of the people who work in the warehouse and have accommodations (because most people who have a permanent and chronic condition don’t want to work in the warehouse) have them for a temporary amount of time due to surgery, injury or pregnancy.
And any time a disabled person asks for an accommodation (like adjustments to a work station or permission to have a tasking canine at their side), there will be other people who take advantage if the system. Everyone’s body is very different, so two people could have the very same condition and still need unique accommodations. And I think some people lose sight of the fact that a reasonable accommodation for a person who needs it makes the situation possible and that it is not necessarily designed to make the situation easier.
When I tell you my leg feels like it’s facing the wrong direction and just drags along like a dead tree stump, believe me. And when I’m standing there afraid my leg may not continue to hold me up, believe me. And when I have to fight with absence management companies and agree to policies that allow me to take unpaid leave in accordance with the conditions approved by the absence management company, because my employer will penalize me if I continue working and meet less than 100% of their expectation… all of that causes me stress.
And I have a neurological condition that prevents my brain from telling my lower body to relax. Do you know what happens then? My discomfort gets worse. It is a big decision for me to tap out of work and use my intermittent leave. I’m losing my job in a little more than six weeks. I have no paid time off because I use it all for doctors appointments.
And to receive an email before I even get home that implies I’ve abused my leave is infuriating. My boss told me to stop stressing so much, that we’ll figure it out. His boss encouraged me to redo the forms again because she doesn’t want my employer to have any reason to question my productivity or attendance. She also doesn’t want me to risk losing my meager severance.
The claims examiner never sent me a new form. I imagine he or she posted it to my file in the app. Because while all warnings and denials come to my personal email, good news and important documents seem to appear in the app with no acknowledgement.
But being me, I kept a blank from last time. I sent that to my primary care physician’s office with a note that I could fill it out over the weekend and drop it off on Monday. Because I don’t want them to have extra work. My doctor’s assistant said that would be good.
And it turns out– I saved a previous form that I modified on Kami. I changed the dates and fixed the offending question and submitted it electronically to the doctor’s office a few minutes ago. I’m emotionally drained and the whole experience has me drained.
Five Tips if you are dealing with medical paperwork & paper pushers
Keep extra blank copies. When you receive a document, try to get an electronic copy and a print copy. Obviously, if you have an electronic copy, you can print one. Print a blank copy and set it aside for your medical provider. Before you interact with an electronic copy, duplicate it. That way if you make a mistake or someone loses something you don’t need anyone’s help to get another copy.
Warn the provider. Call the office or use your electronic patient portal. I had my first intermittent leave form filled out by my neurologist, but had to pay a $25 fee and it took two weeks. The second time (and the third time and now the fourth time) I asked my primary care physician. I know from past experience, he fills it out with me and doesn’t report it to the office so I don’t get charged the fee. Ask if the provider would prefer you book an appointment so he/she can evaluate you, if you can email, mail or hand deliver a copy.
Do as much as you can yourself. At this point, I discuss a lot of these things in the patient portal via “ask a non-urgent medical question” to my doctor, which I know is read by his assistant. I literally start with “This message is for X. I apologize for another paperwork request, but my employer is giving me trouble again.” I send a form I filled out (except for the doctor’s name, date and signature of course) AND a copy of the blank form with the notation “in case my responses are not accurate, hopefully I did not misspeak”). On paper forms, I use post-it notes to direct the doctor to the actual medical stuff.
Record the answers. Part of the reason I can fill out most of these forms is because I keep and file the forms. So I use the doctor’s previous answers and update as needed. That way you sound like your doctor, because you are using your doctor’s language.
Keep copies. I always ask that they leave me a copy at the front desk so I can pick it up. I always point out to them this is not to check up on my physician, but to make sure no paperwork gets lost in the system. I have experienced several instances where the absense management company mislaid a fax, then changed my examiner, who never received a second fax which meant I was mired in paperwork for a month trying to get one of my short-term disability payments. If they give me a copy, I scan it and upload it to them directly, either my email or whatever the primary interface is. And if they lose it, I can email the scans again and not have to bother my doctor’s office.
Following up with the dietician
The dietician called me consistent. I did not lose any weight. I did not gain any weight. But my orthostatic hypotension has all but disappeared. But to maintain that, I need to consume three to four times the amount of salt I have been eating. And monitor my water intake. She perused my macro balance and my diet from the last month and really did call me consistent. So I guess the next step is to deal with my weight.
Speaking of weight, the nachos I had for dinner didn’t help.
Cool Ranch Doritoes
two slices organic American cheese
Sam’s Fresh Pineapple Salsa
Spicy Cuban Black Beans
Avocado Crema
Nutritional Yeast
600 calories. 20 grams protein.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll tell you how/why I missed the event at the Parkland Community Library. Maybe tomorrow will be smoother.
Not The Matrix. As in the movies. The absence management company.
I have an intermittent FMLA leave that I use when my body can’t tolerate my job. I thought, after having two different doctors fill it out at least three times (yes, I lost count) that I was approved for 40 hours a month of leave. Now, not understanding that is probably my fault.
But the curt paper pusher that told me I had 15 days to submit new paperwork could have been more patient. Apparently, my leave only entitles me to ONE episode per month of UP TO 40 hours. I called out sick in mid July and left work ninety minutes early today– so that 9.5 hours is not allowed because it’s in two episodes not one.
This is the type of bullshit one has to deal with when you try to advocate for yourself in an able-bodied world.
My hip has been inflamed– at least that’s what my darling chiropractor says, I say it feels crooked and like I’m dragging around a tree trunk– for several days now and getting progressively worse. So when my numbers slipped down to 97% today I tapped out, in part because of discomfort but also because the discomfort was causing me to fall behind and if I fall behind I will be penalized.
And the concern becomes: if I end up “not fully performing” in my end days, will I lose my severance?
But these are all my thoughts at the end of the day. At the beginning of the day I had to release my cat Fog from a crate and package a fecal sample for the vet. He has worms. I know it. I see it. As a cat rescue worker, I had the first medicine of defense, Pyrantel, but that didn’t work so he might have a tapeworm (that comes from ingesting a flea) and that requires Drontal which I don’t have. I think Touch of Grey (one of the two remaining fosters) might have worms, too.
Southern Candy didn’t come to work today for her own health reasons which had a friend and I ready to send out search and rescue dogs.
And Gayle, my friend and the art director, had eye surgery today which was pretty serious stuff but she texted that she can see so all is well so far.
Meanwhile, my neurologist responded to a message I had sent during her vacation and now she wants me to go for a urine test– but no one seems to know where I can go. And I don’t have time to go. So, if I have to go for a urine test, I thought I’d check with my doctor and see if I need other tests before my upcoming physical. They ended up ordering a urine test because the neurologist didn’t yet. But they missed the part about the other tests.
Now we’re all confused.
My neurologist is afraid I have some sort of UTI, which I think I’ve only had one of those in my entire almost-fifty-year life and I remember pain being part of that equation. Why they think I might have a UTI contributing to my issues I don’t know.
But there’s just too many things I need to figure out and organize. And I’m mentally and physically exhausted by it all.
The questions become:
Why must organizing care be so complicated?
Why do employers make health-related issues such a hoop-jumping process?
I’m running out of steam– there are so many things to do and to talk about that I just can’t get to them all. And that’s okay.
I have commitments. I was elected president of the Greater Lehigh Valley Writers Group. I have a child enrolling at Lafayette College in a month. I met with a young editor yesterday after my day job at Stitch Fix and absorbed her energy and hopefully helped her on her journey.
The decorations and the Braille are ready for tomorrow’s Disability Pride Lehigh Valley event.
And I manged to NOT put my underwear on backwards as I did on Wednesday.
Sometimes the little wins mean a lot.
In general my blood pressure and orthostatic hypotension symptoms have improved with the increased salt in my diet. If I get a good eight hours of sleep I feel decent. I have to ask if that’s due to the salt, the rest, or my frequent missing of my calorie goals (the other night I went on an eating binge and ate 500 calories of almonds. Who does that?). It also could be my increased stress levels as I’m losing my job in seven weeks.
Seven weeks.
The first medical bills from my March hospital stay has arrived, which like everything else, makes me wonder what’s to follow. I’ve started applying for full and part-time positions–but I really want to get a part-time position in something that will give me knowledge toward building my own business or to string together writing and editing clients.
But I have no savings to pull this off.
*I have a Substack and an underpromoted, underutilized Patreon if anyone wants to support Parisian Phoenix Publishing in those ways.
(And reviewing my own creator dashboard, I set up Patreon a year ago and didn’t do anything with it. Put that on the list, in addition to updating the web site in general.)
My recent experiences as a Stitch Fix client
I have waited more than a decade to launch into my client experience with Stitch Fix. If you’ve read any of my novels, you can probably imagine why. (More about my novels here.)
I started getting fixes around my birthday, which was in May. I had given my employee discount to a friend for a little more than a year, as I did not have the income for new clothes. If you are a regular here, you’ll know that the pandemic and my recent life and lack of discipline have led to a 30ish pound weight gain on my small frame, so that factored into my decision to postpone my fixes. Why buy new clothes if I’m not healthy and back to normal?
The Teenager told me around the Back-to-School season last year that she felt like she didn’t know her own style, because she didn’t get to buy her own clothes. So, I transferred my discount to her. And an employee discount can only be transferred every six months.
This week my fourth fix came. I can’t believe it’s four as I can only remember three, but these days I’m lucky if I can spell my own name.
So I asked for my fourth fix if my stylist could send suggestions for events related to titles launching at Parisian Phoenix Kink. Edgy, kinky, sexy. I even listed brands and ordered everything vegan leather I could find on Freestyle. Like pants. And a really amazing dress. The pants worked out, but the first dress was too small, and the second I did not order in petite so it was too long and for $250 I lost patience and wiggle room on my American Express to find “just right.” I did however find a dress, that although not vegan leather, fit the aesthetic and allowed room for my expanded-since-weight-gain bust size.
With all of this information of what I’d purchased, what I’d returned and why and so many items I had “saved for later,” the AI algorithm that Katrina Lake has bragged about in every podcast appearance I have heard should be able to show my stylist what I want. It should show me what I want.
And the same week Stitch Fix announced it was closing our Pennsylvania warehouse, Gwyneth Paltrow released an episode of her Goop podcast featuring Katrina, with whom she appears to be friends and retreat buddies, bragging about the algorithm and telling the same stories of Stitch Fix’s origins I’ve heard for three years.
Shipping times across the Stitch Fix network have increased, when the company eliminated its second shift (originally implemented for pandemic social distancing, splitting the warehouse staff in half) and asked us to convert to one of two 4-day, 10-hour cycles, the logic was that operating seven days a week (especially in our region where we can ship to anywhere in the continental US pretty much within 24-48 hours) would allow Freestyle orders to land at clients’ homes quickly.
And in my experience as client and employee, it did. My daughter was using my discount at that time and there was one incident when I ordered earrings on Friday night, coincidentally on Sunday morning around 7 a.m. on packed them, and I received them Tuesday morning.
I wrote a blog post (here). And I also made an unboxing video.
Now it often takes two weeks to receive an item. And we’re not even closed yet!
So, my fix preview comes. And I am very disappointed. I can see why the algorithm has selected certain items based on my past Fix purchases, but it’s like it has completely ignored the pile of things I have ordered from Freestyle since my last Fix.
Are you all still with me? Okay. So, the box arrives and I’m soooooo excited to see what kind of party outfit my stylist picked out. I know there’s a pink dress but everything else is a surprise. I ask The Teenager if she wants to see me open it.
She says, “Sure.”
And she starts the video. I open the material inside, and I see the “first fix” card that goes out to new clients. I am not a new client. I look at the Style Card and the name is not mine, the stylist is not mine and the fix is not mine. Now, despite the fact that I work for Stitch Fix and I fold and prepare 130+ of these fixes a day… despite the fact that this box came from our warehouse… and despite the fact that I also have performed the role of the person who prints, folds and drops the little envelope in the box…
In this moment, I am a client. It’s like all knowledge I have of of the process falls out of my head. (And it’s all on video you can watch it.)
“This is not my fix,” I say, despite the fact that I have already shown the camera a bundle with a pink dress in the middle.
I had glanced at the style card and saw that Becca, the client, had received athletic clothes and sneakers and I clearly had heels in that box.
I shoved the entire fix in the return envelope without even opening it. I was so angry and disappointed.
In my disoriented anger, I did not know that there was only a brief moment before check out that I could see the style card and note from my stylist that accompanied my fix. And I zoomed right by it as I started to realize that they were my clothes. And I recalled seeing some notes from my stylist about how the system wasn’t giving her the types of clothes I wanted so she tried to build some outfits based on what I had. But I had clicked past the note without fully reading it.
And now it’s gone.
Remember, I have waited more than a decade for these fixes. I have no clothes that fit because I gained weight during the pandemic. I am losing my job and I need clothes for interviews, business and launch parties.
I email customer support and ask for a copy of my stylecard.
At 4 a.m. the next morning, as I get dressed for work, I realize: I can peel the sticker off the box, research it and probably find my own damn style card. But we change in-house warehouse management systems so often I can’t remember which app does what I need it to do. I ask a lead– because now I realize one of the people who prints the style card is the one who screwed up my whole experience. She refreshes my memory.
I look up my package and realize my cat-loving friend Tom delivered my shoes to the picker, and that I know the name of the picker who ran around the warehouse on my behalf. The person who QC’ed my package– that’s the same job I normally do– was probably in the line next to mine. And then I see it. The person who handled my package last. It’s someone who is very good at her job and even gave me some tips once we moved to regular day shift.
This person means well, but punctuates her sentences with things like, “it’s not your fault. You second shift people weren’t trained properly.” I didn’t tell her she screwed up my box, and my animosity about the whole experience faded when I saw her name at the end of the line.
And my brain thought to itself, “it figures.”
By then, customer support had emailed me a PDF of my style card. Which I could have printed at work. But they offered to mail me a copy. So I thought, “Why not?”
I thanked the customer support person who took the time to explain to me how the warehouse works (because they always blame the warehouse, no one wants to hear that the beloved algorithm is broken). And I told her, “Yes, please mail me a copy. That would be lovely.”
I haven’t received it yet, but I do keep them. But that’s a blog entry for after my separation date.
I decide that maybe I’ll order one more fix, since I paid for the style pass so I won’t lose any money. And the preview comes… and guys… this one nails it.
It’s due to arrive at the end of the week, so here’s hoping this story has a happy ending.
Please do not expect this blog entry to tell a smooth story or to make sense. I don’t even know what will flow out of my fingers as I type this now. I did not plan anything special for this post, nor did I intend to miss nearly two weeks of writing.
After mere days of tracking my sodium and “eating normally” as the dietician suggested, my constant lightheadedness and episodes of low blood pressure significantly decreased. My physiatrist (who is also a neurologist, you may recall) saw me last Thursday afternoon for my post incident follow-up. She’s excited about my approval for the service dog, sorry that I’m losing my job, has promised to buy Not an Able-Bodied White Man with Money, and she and her nurse both appreciate the way I advocate for myself and try to do as much as I can to improve my body and my health.
Speaking of which, tracking food had led me to discover that when “eating normally” I was only getting 1500-1800 mg of sodium AND drinking 100 ounces of water in the humid, hot warehouse. I can only imagine how little sodium I was eating while sticking to “heart-healthy,” “low sodium” choices. And it might explain why I really love me a bag of salty potato chips.
The physiatrist and I had a lovely conversation about B-vitamins, apparently she’s low and had to start getting B12 shots so I mentioned that I sprinkled nutritional yeast on everything. She googled it and she plans on buying a jar.
The teenager also asked me to organize her bookshelf, a calming activity that brings me much satisfaction.
In a future blog, I hope to write The Saga of the Quail, now that the birds have gone home and I can no longer get in trouble for illegally housing game birds in a residential area.
Somewhere in the last two weeks I deadlifted 120 lbs– which is three-quarters of my current body weight.
And the “tube” to the outdoor kennel the teenager built for the cats has been popular.
She even put a cat door leading from the porch to the kitchen so the cats have access 24/7. Touch of Grey, our foster with a hysterical and sometimes volatile personality, has made the back porch/mud room her new domain.
I had a mental health therapy appointment and will have a job coaching session next week. Speaking of which, we are having a Women’s Outbound meeting at work on Monday and everyone is having their break after regardless of whether we normally break at this time. I’m guessing Stitch Fix has either decided our official end dates or they will be announcing more information regarding when and how we will receive this information.
We had a massive pot luck yesterday at work for our team and another roster, and I ate so much food I didn’t eat again for 24 hours.
I had a meeting today with “medical nutrition services” at the local hospital to see if the dietician had any idea what I might be able to do to get myself on track via diet.
She recommended getting more sleep, and specifically 9 hours, which to me would mean going to bed at about 6:30 p.m.
And she applauds my effort to get off screens and read physical books before bed, but wants me to keep my bedroom dark and between 64-68 degrees. Which will mean using the air conditioner. And remembering to open the curtains for the cockatoo in the morning.
She requested that I cap my water intake at 64 ounces or so, based on the color of my urine because she’s afraid I’m flushing all the salts from my system.
She put me on a 1300 to 1500 calorie limit, and asked me to do more meal prep and meal planning as is my custom, but also to eat breakfast within an hour of waking up. Which, because I have so little wits and already have a busy routine, requires meal prepping breakfast in addition to lunch.
As for dietary guidelines, she wants to see me track my food and eat as “normal” as possible, not worrying about sugar and salt per se.
And I need to find a healthy outlet for stress.
Don’t we all.
FOOD DIARY
4:30 a.m: morning meds, 12 ounces water, half a cup of my favorite peppermint accented medium roast coffee with half and half
5:15 a.m.: about 8 ounces water with Electrolyte Powder Plus in raspberry
6:15 a.m. one serving of pretzels and 3/4 of a serving of JIF peanut butter.
8:30 a.m.: one serving Cabot cottage cheese, one golden kiwi, probably one serving “corn bake” and 20 ounces water.
12:30 p.m.: 16 ounces water, Baclofen and one slice pesto pizza
3:30 p.m.: repeat of this morning’s coffee and a Kind Breakfast Bar
4:30 p.m.: about 16 ounces of electrolyte water at the gym
6 p.m.: finally had my Hungryroot schnitzel– a thick pork chop coated with the dry batter of Hungryroot’s ancient grain pancake mix and “hot potato salad” of creamer potatoes, parsley, and balsamic vinegar. I was very very pleased with the texture of the pancake coating.
Weight: 160, Sleep: 7 restless hours, Morning blood pressure: 120/76 (it’s normally around 110/65 at first check), Equilibrium: day 8 of ears ringing, slight headache and lightheaded
Heart rate about 100 bpm while standing at station, folded 100 fixes (100+%)
Socks: T-Rex drinking coffee
Hopefully my next blog entry, I can tell you more about my TedX interview.
I woke up this morning and my blood pressure was still 110/68. I still felt dizzy. So I skipped my beta blocker for the second time, chugged a glass of electrolyte water and went to work. By the time I arrived in the breakroom before clocking in, my blood pressure was 125/88. I took my beta blocker and hoped for the best.
The person on support today did an excellent job of meeting my medical accommodations, and my neighbors in the QC lines, M. and A., kept swapping out my carts for theirs whenever they received refixes, which make it easier to limit my mobility. I ended the day at about 105% and I am grateful for the help.
FOOD:
4:30 a.m.: half a cup of peppermint coffee, 12 ounces electrolyte water and a slice of pesto pizza.
6:30 to 8:30 a.m.: 17 ounces water
8:30 a.m.: cashews and fig newtons
8:30 to 10:30 a.m.: about 12 ounces water
10:30 a.m.: two slices pizza
2:30 p.m.: about 16 ounces unsweetened Earl Grey iced tea with Torani sugar free mango syrup
4:30 p.m.: dinner based on a recipe from Hungryroot–“the actual orange burger” made from sweet potato, carrot and red pepper topped with avocado, sautéed kale and yellow and red peppers (and I probably used too much oil), BBQ tempeh, and nutritional yeast and served on a pretzel bun toasted in the oven after a brush with margarine and everything bagel seasoning. Served with cottage cheese, because honestly I’m concerned it might not have enough protein and a Dr Pepper Zero Strawberries and cream.
6:15 p.m.: KozyShack cinnamon raisin rice pudding for dessert. An impulse buy. But I still don’t like rice pudding.
Hopefully that’s all I eat today and I have some more water before bed.
I spent all day lightheaded, with it getting progressively worse all day. I altered my food today to include more sodium. I even brought my electrolyte powder to work, but no improvement. And yes– I did email my doctor. I had tried to schedule an appointment but with his current vacation schedule and his tendency to be heavily booked, I might be best served by my late August wellness visit.
When the lightheadedness threatens to become full dizziness, my heartrate is in the 110-115 beats per minute range, which scares me. But still no signs of Afib.
At work today I did 162 fixes, which was our goal when we were still on 10-hour shifts. Now it’s 164. But I spent 40 minutes at the safety team. We discussed resumes.
Speaking of Stitch Fix… my Freestyle order from last week came, or at least 75% of it came. It’s ridiculous how long it took to get here.
Now, I have to be up at 3:45 a.m. to start my ten-hour shift at 5:30 a.m. so let’s get on to the food diary…
4:15 a.m.: I made 26 ounces of Supercoffee with half and half. I put it in my thermal mug and it took me three-quarters of the day to drink half of it. Then I put ice in the other half and put it in the fridge.
8:30 a.m.: probably drank 24 ounces of water so far at work. First break was Cabot cottage cheese, sipping my coffee and enjoying a golden kiwi. The cottage cheese had 18% of my RDA in sodium.
11:30 a.m.: Wendy’s chicken sandwich, the super basic one and I asked them to remove the mayo and add ranch and pickles, but they didn’t listen and merely removed the mayo. Added my own ranch and pickles. Had some sliced packaged apples and plaintain chips. The plaintain chips have minimal sodium and some vitamins. The chicken sandwich was processed so it had to be salty, but none of it made me feel better.
1:30 p.m.: probably drank about 24 more ounces of water and drank 1/2 my mason jar of water with my electrolyte powder. I finished it after work. Also had a bag of cashews.
6 p.m.: the teenager made dinner. Caesar salad with fried chicken, red peppers and cucumbers. I had two big bowls. And a glass of unsweetened iced tea, Earl Grey.
Then I packed a meatloaf sandwich on rye with creamy miso and nutritional yeast, another kiwi and licorice bites for lunch tomorrow. I also set the coffee pot to brew more Supercoffee at 4 a.m. and added some organic cacao into the coffee grounds.
My blood pressure was great all day— I only took my regular half dose of beta blocker. My heart rate had a few episodes of elevation, and I was dizzy all day every time I walked.
It was humid and hot in the warehouse. I worked a ten hour shift and folded 174 fixes. Despite the sadness and frustration filling the warehouse, the conversations happening between colleagues keep the family spirit going. And it’s a great reminder that we’re all still a team.
But with each subsequent Stitch Fix commercial on Hulu, I fight tears.
And for the record, 174 fixes is 106%.
My food diary for the day:
4:30 a.m.: Water, coffee with half and half, Kind almond butter oatmeal bars. I didn’t have a chance to eat my pineapple jerky.
8:30 a.m.: about more 30 ounces of water, one small banana, packages apple slices, about 3/4 of a serving of peanut butter. I didn’t have a chance to eat my pistachios.
11:30 a.m.: water count is up another 20 ounces, a raspberry watermelon polar seltzer, and a packed solid salad of pesto, kale, red pepper, cucumber, pumpkin seeds, roasted chick peas, black beans, couscous, and hummus.
1:30 p.m.: about 16 more ounces water, finished the seltzer, and ate three mini molasses cookies from Archway, one serving.
4:30 p.m.: unsweetened Earl Grey iced tea with fresh lemon
5:30 p.m.: diet caffeine free Coke, 2 everything tortillas each with avocado, nutritional yeast, and Alpha plant-based Chikn nuggets dipped in blue cheese dressing.
Angel Ackerman 