My shift at the restaurant Thursday evening went much easier than Wednesday— though I couldn’t bend and reach the floor and I took a lot of Baclofen.
And my left hand strangely hurt last night in the fifth metatarsal, in the same spot where I broke my right hand what had to be a decade or more ago.
Today I slept until 8 a.m. when my Goffin’s cockatoo, Nala, screamed, probably concerned that I died in my sleep.
I stripped my bed, started laundry, drank some coffee and used household chores as my warmup for a home workout. (After clearing my business email and banking stuff.)
The scale showed another pound gone. Soon I might hit the ten-pound mark.
Nothing like 30 or 40 pound cat litter boxes to practice farmer’s carry. And five trips up and down the stairs gets the heart rate up.
I did a pretty solid shoulder workout today, 22 minutes of just weights— including push press, dumbbell row, shoulder lateral raise.
Did some more wash, handled some more email and spoke with one of the Parisian Phoenix authors about a presentation we have been invited to give at Hellertown Library.
I did the dishes, started cooking some chicken livers for the dog, and made myself a big salad with lots of carrots.
I went to Panera for a while to work on my background material for the stories I am writing for Armchair Lehigh Valley regarding the May 20 primary.
And I got my schedule from the restaurant— 4 days in a row and 22 hours. I messaged my boss on Slack to warn her that that may be a struggle for me. She hired me so quickly I never had a chance to tell her about my cerebral palsy. She hired me to work 10-12 hours a week in the dining room, so I didn’t think I would have to.
But here I am, working 20+ hours all over the place.
I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, and I feel it’s better to do these things in person, but at least on Slack there’s a paper trail.
It turned out to be a great conversation. One we will continue in person. As I suspected, she’s short-staffed and I can really use the money so I didn’t want to complain.
Eva picked me up and we stopped at Grocery Outlet. And as soon as we got home, three garbage trucks swarmed us and our house.
I made a vegetable lovers DiGiorno thin crust pizza and split it with Eva and watched some more of The Pitt. Then I came up to make my bed, clean litter boxes, feed the bird, and get the cats water before my shower.
Now it is almost 8 p.m. and I plan to read until I am sleepy.
I don’t want to write this. I am tired and I want to go to bed and pray that I am not in too much pain to sleep. I won’t post it until tomorrow (Hence referring to today as yesterday in the title.)
Nothing bad happened. It was just a bad day physically, and it’s been a long time since a day hit me this hard.
I need to write about it though, because I am under strict instructions from my doctor to pay attention and note anything unusual because she’s heard some of my symptoms and said that if I were any other patient I’d be going for tests.
And if I don’t write this blog, I will forget today was a bad day physically.
It started nicely enough. Visted Nancy Scott and noticed then that climbing the stairs felt more stiff than usual.
Ate decently. Tried a sample meal replacement bar for breakfast and ate a HUGE brunch of potato, broccoli, multi color peppers, egg and feta. Had two pieces of licorice and a whole bunch of unsweetened and barely caffeinated tea.
I noticed while changing into my work uniform that my knuckles felt achy and weak and like I was about to injure my middle finger as I did with my mallet finger/sock incident of 2022. (If you want to read more about my mallet finger, click here.) This sensation returned again at the end of the night before I showered.
I took 10 mg of baclofen. In the morning, I took five.
Left for work at 1:30. So here’s the big reveal– in addition to my publishing company, I took what was supposed to be a very part-time job at Chick-Fil-A. My reasons for selecting that particular job were very specific. That might be a good topic for another post.
Once I arrive, I grab some Coke Zero. I usually stick to unsweetened iced tea or seltzer while I’m at the restaurant, but tonight I needed something a little extra. The back of my right thigh is spasming.
I started my shift running people their food inside the restaurant. It’s not my strongest position, but I like the movement. Then, I went to the drive-thru window for an hour, before I went back to running. My legs felt very heavy and clumsy the whole time.
Then, I went on break. And I ate a fruit cup. Everything still felt hard to move.(I walked a total of 15,000 steps today and two hours of my shift registered as exercise on my Apple Watch.) While outside I started stumbling, and twice I almost pelted some cars with bags of food.
And it was cold outside! Then, the icy rain started. Eventually, I got a poncho, and after about two hours I went inside and washed my hands for five straight minutes trying to get them warm again. At this point, my lower half hurts and I can’t bend and reach the floor.
And one of my supervisors accidentally clocks me in the cheekbone with his elbow. Hard.
I finally leave, and my phone alerts me that my heart rate is high. It hovered around 120-135 most of my shift. It usually does.
My toe hurts– not sure if I’m getting a blister or the toe I almost broke or the neuroma giving me trouble.
I came home, showered and made myself some food. And took 20 mg of baclofen. Making my grand total for the day 35 mg. I think. My blood pressure is also trending upward, at 112/78.
My phone says my average walking asymmetry for the day was 2.5 percent, but I noticed there was a lot of asymmetry. Often when my numbers are bad, they are a lot higher but only happen once. This was happening frequently. It looks like it was happening a dozen times an hour.
So, I came home wet, cold, stumbling and hurting.
I record this now to improve my memory of what the bad days feel like.
Monday is my last session as part of the Thrive medical fitness program at St. Luke’s. Working with the trainers in the program has reminded me of some hard truths– and the part that’s hard is the reality of your own habits and thinking patterns.
The numbers show some nice progress. I lost four pounds of fat and gained one pound of muscle. (And had I eaten better imagine what those numbers could have been.) My blood pressure according to their records has stayed the same, but based on my home readings has gone down and requires less medication. The strength-based tests– well, I kicked butt.
I certainly feel better, and stronger, though I still have work to do on my cardiofitness. That won’t really improve until I commit to more cardiovascular exercise, even if it is just walks around the neighborhood. I would love to return to riding my bike again, but there’s a fear factor there. It’s an activity I don’t want to do alone, which is also true of walking.
But here are the lessons:
When my body hurts and locks up, strength-training stretches all those muscles and gets rid of the pain.
I can only lose about a pound a week if I eat well and exercise at least three times a week. Diet alone won’t do it. And my food choices don’t have to be perfect but they have to be solid.
Salt is my nemesis. Too little and I experience orthostatic hypotension and lightheadedness, too much and I end up with as much as five pounds water weight.
I must be choosy about my fast food. Domino’s or Little Caesars pizza will put me in a coma, and I will sleep so well, but the impact will show on my heart rate, blood pressure and weight. Wing Stop has no benefits, only the effects of the salt. I now keep various processed chicken products in the freezer because while they are not a wholesome choice, I can make my own sauces to replicate Wing Stop and save the truly detrimental health effects. Taco Bell in small doses can be tolerated, and I usually get a cheap box deal and make the items all vegetarian. It adds some extra fiber and vegetable matter to the mix.
And out of all the fast food chains– I can navigate the menu at Chick-Fil-A and not notice any real impact. Their fruit cup and kale crunch salad, especially when paired with grilled nuggets, are solid choices. They also have a chicken (or vegetarian) cool wrap, which, while it is calorie dense, is easy and quick to eat– with a good portion of lettuce and cabbage. (Yes, they also have amazing salads, but those big salads are realistically three portions. That’s a lot of salad and chicken. A lot.)
Do I have the discipline to not only continue but improve upon this progress? I don’t know. Honestly. IF I made a commitment to meal planning and cooking, I could. But with money and time always an issue, I don’t know. With stress leading me to seek comfort in my favorite foods– did you know they have Sour Patch Kid Jelly Beans? Eva says they flipped Sour Patch Kids inside out… With fatigue influencing my choices– caffeine and sugary carbohydrates, anyone?
Will I get up in the morning, drink a glass of water, and commit to some sort of exercise in my home gym?
Gayle and I left my house in Pennsylvania’s Lehigh Valley at 7:50 a.m. Our destination was the Embassy Suites in Marlborough, Massachusetts, for EH Jacobs’ book signing at Tatnuck Booksellers tomorrow.
I noticed the other day that Dunkin has its spring menu out and I was very excited to have a pistachion flavored coffee. So, after about an hour on the road, we stopped in Bernardsville, N.J., for breakfast at Dunkin — and I didn’t like my coffee. Which I used to love.
For some reason, no matter how many times I told the GPS not to, it insisted on taking us over the George Washington Bridge and threw the Bronx. That was unexpected.
And somewhere early on in Connecticut, the tire pressure light came on. But briefly thereafter we stopped at a service center in Alltown that had free air, but it was too cold and windy to check the tires and deal with them. I’m fairly certain is the 60 degree to 30 degree temperature drops from the course of the last week causing issues, but it could be every time I come to Massachusetts, I don’t put enough air in my tires.
New Haven
Before we left I googled interesting bookstores around the half-way point so we can get out of the car, wander a bit and connect with some new people. New Haven popped up as the stop with the most potential based on geographic location, the time we left (Because we leave early and stuff isn’t open sometimes until 11 a.m. or noon), and the number of potential stops in the vicinity.
It’s usually done by gut feel, google search and social media. And I typically completely forget WHY I picked a place.
STOP 1: POSSIBLE FUTURES
So, if you don’t know, I have a bachelor’s degree in English/French language and literature and a second bachelor’s in international affairs. I did somewhere around a third of my master’s degree in world history– where I intended to focus on post-colonial Francophone Africa. My academic interest is in stereotypes and the racism against indigenous people, especially in the case of the French, the prejudice against Muslims. The French treated the Muslim colonial subjects as the lowest class of citizen, deeming them unfit for miscegenation (a tactic popular as part of the civilizing mission in Asia, for example) because it would weaken the French bloodlines.
Gayle and I approach this bookstore and find a mural. Gayle loves murals. We find a memorial to abolitionist Ruth Wilson Gilmore and evidence that in warmer weather this area houses a container garden.
The academic critical theorist in me loved seeing the works of Aimé Cesaire and Franz Fanon on the shelves, with memoirs of people like Josephine Baker (which I almost bought). Black novelists (stunning collection of Octavia Butler, but she is making a comeback) and quite a few Louise Ehrlich. The inventory included feminist books, Muslim books, lots of queer and other marginalized voices. And such great vibes! This one will make my bookstore and book detour list as part of my Substack newsletter/resources.
Although our other stops were only a mile away on the Yale Campus, we opted to drive as the wind was brutal.
And I did the worst parallel park job of my life on York Street. We’re not going to talk about it. But in my defense, the space was small. But I got in it!
GREY MATTER (south)
This was a really great used bookstore with reasonable prices. (Have you been to those bookstores that base their prices on the original price of the book? I don’t like those.) I bought three books– The Long Island one by Taffy what’s-her-name and two books about colonization in Africa from the 1960s. My bill was $19.
I’m not sure if I should write this… but the vibes between the two places made me think… Possible Futures was obviously the more liberal place and had a lively energy, lots of color, friendly staff who liked to chat, and a real sense of mission and place. Grey Matter felt much more conservative, dusty and stodgy and entrenched in that sense of academia and, well, whiteness. (Which one of my Africa books is by an Indian man from an Indian publishing company so I can’t wait to see his report of what was happening in Africa.)
Gayle grabbed an iced chai on the way back to the car, but sadly she dropped it before she even had a sip.
Speaking of sad, the GPS continued its revolt and took us up smaller roads to the Boston area. Route 20 looked very, very strange. The buildings were all empty at the side of road and neglected and lots of construction everywhere– Gayle thinks they are widening the highway.
We arrived at the hotel and were extremely impressed with our room. And the snacks. And the location and the friendliness of the staff. We were scheduled to meet author E.H. Jacobs and his wife at Welly’s for dinner. And I gave Ed his royalty check.
I had a lovely fig and arugula pizza and came back to the hotel for a soak in the hot tub.
I had hoped to fulfill one of Gayle’s wishes and go see Harvard’s Gutenberg Bible, but we discovered too late that they do not have Saturday hours.
I worked my way through school at a very busy McDonalds franchise, working full-time there after college graduation until I found my first professional job four months later. When I returned to food service in my thirties, it was at our local Target (in the cafe, making official Pizza Hut pizzas and popcorn and selling icees) so that I had the income our family needed to make ends meet yet have the flexibility to raise our daughter. And go to school. And travel. And all the quirky things I have done.
So throughout most of Eva’s childhood, we didn’t eat fast food and I certainly didn’t set foot in a McDonalds for 20 years. (When I finally did, it smelled exactly the same as I remembered.)
Once Eva started to work and drive and as the pandemic changed a lot of our shopping and eating habits, we have revisited a lot of the fast food options. (There is a reason I gained 30 pounds since then, I guess.)
I was vegetarian for about eight years before Eva was born and fast food is traditionally not a place where vegetarians find many options– I remember making vegetarian Big Macs and “grilled cheese” at McDonalds. Basically, take the meat out of the traditional burger. Frankly, I always thought that sounded gross.
So imagine my surprise when I was recently scrolling the Chick-Fil-A menu online and discovered a host of vegetarian and potentially vegan options. And I decided to work my way through them. Now, I have had Chick-Fil-A’s salads, and any of them can be made without the chicken (and cheese or bacon or egg depending on the salad). They even have three vinegar-based salad dressings.
Now, let me say that I am no longer a vegetarian but I still gravitate toward vegetarian options.
I am in love with the relatively new kale crunch side salad– kale, cabbage, and almonds with the apple vinaigrette dressing.
The fruit cup surprised me. It’s mostly apples, but it also has fresh strawberries and blueberries and a couple mandarin orange slices.
The macaroni and cheese is a unique take on a classic. It does not have the uber-creamy texture of velveeta like most fast food macaroni and cheese, but almost has a rich gruyere flavor and a thicker texture.
Yesterday I tried the vegetarian cool wrap, which is the traditional cool wrap (with cold chicken, lettuce, cabbage and shredded cheese) but with the beans and corn from the southwest salad as the protein.
It is Saturday, December 28, around 8:30 a.m. when I start this. Do not expect much eloquence from me, as the gunk Eva passed on to me from her recent illness is still interfering with my ability to think and sleep. It has instead given me a lovely cough, which now after more than a week is getting “wet” and “productive.”
I FINALLY finished my medical intake at the St. Luke’s Medical Fitness program. Because of my paused membership, I’m not sure when my end date in the Thrive program is but let’s assume mid-February for now. This whole journey started in early November when I visited my neurologist-physiatrist to talk to her about my recent mobility issues and any concerns she had about me returning to an exercise program.
The older I get, the more I worry that my cerebral palsy will cause me to hurt myself because I tend not to notice when my body is doing the wrong things.
Eva has worked really hard on remodeling the garage and including a space for a home gym, so I need to pay some attention to myself in that regard. But I’m out of shape, and falling more than usual, so I’m scared.
My neurologist referred me to the medical fitness program, and I had my first medical intake appointment on November 11. My blood pressure spiked during that appointment, so they sent me home without doing the baseline exercise portion of the intake. I returned two days later, and they almost sent me to the ER because my blood pressure was still bad.
Two trips to the primary care doctor, two trips to the cardiologist, and two or three falls (depending how you count, one was a trip, but I still believe it happened because of balance issues which makes it a fall) later, my blood pressure seems under control again.
And of course, yesterday, when I turned up at the gym in the basement of the hospital, it was 130/90.
Since I’ve been fighting the gunk, I almost canceled the appointment, but I filled a water bottle with my electrolyte flavor, grabbed a scarf, forgot a mask, and hopped in the car. My fear was that if I canceled the appointment, the intake would have to wait until after my colonoscopy and I was worried that one thing would lead to another and I’d never get this done.
When I arrived, I forgot my water bottle in the car, still couldn’t find a mask, and realized I had no idea where my membership/gym tag was. In the back of my mind, I knew I had packed a gym bag at my last attempt and that the tag was in the gym bag. But where was the gym bag? And what bag did I use?
Lots of hand sanitizer and frequent hand washing and I refused to shake the young man’s hand. I also told him if I continued to cough and he had to send me home, I understood. But I reiterated that I had had many trials to get to this point and I would rather be sent home than continue the cycle of not trying.
Onto the fancy scale I went (168) and I know that body fat percentage was in the forties, wish I could remember what it was when I was super lean a decade ago. Turns out that information may only exist in paper journals in my attic.
39-year-old Angel … with something to prove before hitting 40
The Angel in the pictures is 45 pounds lighter than me, and I think those 45 pounds, age and stress have had a ridiculous impact on my blood pressure and my mobility. (And for the record– the sweatpants worn by Angel in the pictures were my favorite sweatpants ever.)
I have learned that my body reacts strongly to salt and sugar, and that I “do better” when I cook, and that I have no self-control with processed snack foods like potato chips and doritos.
The trainer I met with yesterday talked about maximum heart rate and how hearts slow down as we age. The highest my heart rate reached in 2024, according to my AppleWatch, was 186. 207 was the highest since I got the watch. The online calculators I have seen suggest that my maximum heart rate for my age is between 170 and 179.
The trainer, and maybe his name was Ryan but maybe I invented that, would like to see me four times a week. I still have the mental mindset to make this work, but my physical stamina and fortitude have worn me out to the point where I can talk myself out of my own efforts.
Maybe, someday, I will get my discipline under control and be one of those old ladies who powerlift. Screw the whole red hat/purple dress thing.
Meanwhile, Monday is my first colonoscopy. It was supposed to be the Monday after Thanksgiving but the doctor had a death in the family. Tomorrow I start my official bowel prep, and it scares me, because I get shaky without food, and low blood pressure without salt, and I already have a mobility disability. Then they will knock me out on Monday, and I tend to have a heavy reaction to medications and anesthesia. So none of this makes me comfortable. The actual colonoscopy, that doesn’t scare me. But everything else does.
So tomorrow, unless I experience miraculous healing today, I will be expelling mucus from my lungs and all the poop from my bum.
Last week, I went to the doctor for my annual physical. The following day I went to the gynecologist for the same.
Between the two appointments, one of the medical professionals listed me as two inches shorter than my average. That led to my status as overweight being upgraded to class one obesity.
I have been struggling for months to resume exercise and return to healthy eating. I go back and forth with losing the same five pounds, based on what I choose to eat.
A lot of my issues with mobility and my heart stem from my extra weight. No doctor has said that to me, but I know based on how I feel and how my body reacts. I need to lose thirty or forty pounds.
About the same time my primary care physician quietly labeled me as obese, murmurings happened on the internet that suggested that the BMI was an imprecise and outdated model of determining health. The suggested replacement is a roundness index, which looks at how much weight people carry around their middles.
If I felt good, I wouldn’t care what they labeled me. But I don’t have the stamina I once did. And that has an impact on my activity which causes more issues.
I think as a society we should promote different body types and multiple standards of beauty, but if I know my weight causes a decrease in my quality of life, it is nothing more than denial to say that weight doesn’t matter.
Today marked the first day of my week-plus trip to present an erotic writing workshop at SexDownSouth: Atlanta, promoting Parisian Phoenix’s Juicy Bits. I left home at about 7:50 a.m. and headed to the bank to deposit some checks at the a.t.m. Then, after much thought, I headed to Panera and picked up an iced tea and already had to pee.
At 8:15 a.m., I left Panera with a toasted asiago bagel and my tea. (They offered me a bagel for $1 today.) Sixty-five miles later I had to pee again! So I stopped in Grimes, Pa., Exit 13, at our “favorite Sheetz.” This Sheetz has an entire row of smoothie machines and frozen icee flavors.
I made it to Route 83 and Harrisburg by 9:50, despite all my stops. By 10:30 a.m., I had eaten my gummy worms and needed to pee yet again. So I stopped in Shrewsbury, Pa., near the border of Maryland, in an area where they had massive shopping plazas with every eatery known to man. Even a Panera. I used the restroom and grabbed a coffee, even though I hadn’t finished my tea.
I left Shrewsbury at 10:45 and arrived in DC at M’s house at 12:07 p.m.
M, my traveling companion through all my crazy adventures on several continents, and I hung around the house and chit-chatted for hours and spent some time watching the black squirrel that hangs around their house, Climber Meta.
We went to Siam House DC for a lovely thai dinner, where I had mango curry with tofu. So delicious!
My hosts are currently having a great day exploring all my maps from AAA.
Today, Eva and I stopped at The Dollar Tree because I wanted to start stocking up on survival snacks for my Atlanta road trip.
I will have a small food budget, but I have several days driving to do and several nights in Atlanta to consider. I’m getting nervous because it looks like the hotel charges $35/night parking, $12 a day for internet, and has no free breakfast. I have to remind myself to breath and trust it will all work out.
But since Eva lost her job yesterday, it’s hard not to stress.
So I spent $16.25 at the Dollar Tree:
I bought two small cans of generic Spam and this small bag of coconut flour for the pantry.
Eva loves Spam, so I thought these cans would be useful for when she’s cooking for herself when I’m gone.
And the flour– I have trouble passing up good deals on specialty floor.
The Road Trip Snacks:
Four bags of snak club tajin gummies. Sweet and spicy to help keep me awake if I get tired driving.
Two bags of Harvest Snaps, the protein from the snap peas will help hold off hunger.
Two bags of peanut butter filled pretzels, same logic as the snap peas.
And the two boxes of fiber bars? That’s 6 little birthday cake bars that really do taste like dessert.
Angel Ackerman 