Balance Assessment at Susquehanna Service Dogs

About three years ago, Eva– my daughter, in the beginning of her career as a pet caregiver and dog trainer– said she wanted to train me a service dog. She wanted something to babysit me once she left home or when I was home alone.

She showed me some videos and I did some research and thought she had a point. When she leaves home, I will be a 50-something woman living alone with a history of falls and accidents. The presence of a dog in my life would keep me active and prevent spasticity issues, improve my gait as a dog’s gait never falters, and perform small tasks like bringing me my phone or picking items off the floor.

I have no doubt that with the right puppy and the time, Eva could train a service dog. But I suggested that for our first experience in the realm of service dogs, we should apply to an official service dog program.

Working with a program would teach us how the dogs are trained, give us support, guarantee good breeding and the physical fitness of the dog, and have some added legitimacy should people question my dog’s work.

Now there are no rules that prevent individuals from training their own service dogs. I think this is why one can encounter a variety of “fake” service dogs doing public access work. [I saw two service animals in the same restaurant this week. One looked like a well-trained Labradoodle with a handler who wasn’t cognizant of her surroundings. The Labradoodle was lying across the main floor area of the restaurant and not tucked under a table. The second was a small dog, perhaps some sort of schnauzer who barked and begged and whined and scratched at its owner’s leg for food the entire time. So, either that handler was having a medical emergency and the dog’s alerts were being ignored or the dog was not properly trained. A working dog should not make noise in public and it should not be distracted by food.]

I understand that training a dog with an agency or a professional trainer is expensive, but people who insist on using dogs for public access that are not properly trained make life harder for those people who have working dogs that don’t misbehave. Improperly trained dogs with public access are the dogs more prone to cause an incident with another dog.

And once I pay for my dog– which will take ALL of my savings– if that dog is attacked or threatened while working in public, that could impact its ability to do its job in the future. My dog might become afraid and unable to focus on its job. So I will have invested all of my money in a dog that won’t leave the house.

In the United States, there are no rules or governing agencies that regulate service dogs. There are, however, rules about what people can ask to a handler of a service dog– Does this dog do work that mitigates your disability? What tasks does the dog do? That’s it.

I have chronicled my service dog adventures on this blog. Here are most of the entries. (I am also working on a disability memoir.) There’s a lot to the process. My dog will be a light mobility dog.

They say the average placement takes four years start-to-finish. We filled out the application with Susquehanna Service Dogs in Summer 2022. I went to their facility and had an interview, fill out a survey of my life and health every six months, did an assessment while working with a dog where they recorded me, brought Eva with me to do public access work in a mall, passed a home visit, collaborated with a case worker to develop a plan of what my dog would actually need to do, and now yesterday, I went back to the facility with Eva for a balance assessment.

They had a mobility professional join us– I believe she was a physical therapist– and I worked with the dog and showed them how I get up off the floor and answered questions about my life and recent fall history. I love when Eva can come because she can tell them her insights. Apparently, she was annoyed because physically I was having a good day yesterday.

I worked with Captain. What we learned was that my dog will need to walk on my right. The dogs are trained to walk on the left, but when the dog is on my left I struggle to walk in a straight line. When the dog is on my right, my posture and ambulation is much more natural.

We also decided that my dog will be guided by a leash, versus a strap or a mobility harness. A mobility harness is rigid and has the most feedback between human and dog. In the photos, I am using a red strap on the far right. The strap was okay, and it’s an intermediary step between the harness and the leash, but it didn’t feel natural. (And the benefit of using leash only is that it gives the dog more freedom and space to get out of the way when I fall. Some dogs are trained to do things when a handler starts to fall, but I want my dog out of the way.)

It also seems like I’m at the proper place in the timeline. The next step: When they have a group of dogs that are flexible enough to work on the right and the right size to work with me, I will get to meet them. It might take a few meetings to find the right dog. Once the right dog is selected and assigned, I believe they will do any specialized training while boarding on site and then I go to their facility for a three-week training session.

The dog itself has to be two-years-old and fully grown and cleared by a veterinarian before entering the work force. Moibility dogs have some of the hardest and most physical jobs out there for service dogs.

Fitness strike out

I had my intake for the Thrive medical fitness program at St. Luke’s Hospital. I did not finish all of the required testing because my heart rate and blood pressure were too high.

But let’s back up. Perhaps things aren’t as “all or nothing” as I feel right now– I feel like in many areas of my life I am “failing” or “losing” and the reality is that life is more complex than that.

I was soooo excited to join the Thrive Medical Fitness program, and I still am. The staff seems pleasant and supportive.

And I wanted to do stuff.

No doing stuff yet.

I had a 5:30 appointment for the intake, and I was 100% honest on the form about my habits and my medical conditions. After all, it’s a hospital-sponsored program so they have access to at least my medical history anyway. So I told the staff member about my fall history, about my bout of afib, about my orthostatic hypotension, my anemia, and my increase in spasticity.

And I quickly learned that due to all of these conditions, I will not be allowed to workout independently at the facility. I will have to make an appointment and work out with one of their trainers for every workout.

Now, to start, I can see this being prudent, and I hope I will prove I am not a danger to myself and be allowed to drop by and workout. But, if not, my new home gym is almost ready.

So, I accept this. I even try to see the nice staff person’s small gestures to my elbow as I step on and off the fancy scale as kindness. She does not know me, so she has to be cautious. But it would be a delicious story if I fell off a scale. And hurt myself. At the hospital.

Which reminds me of the time I fell down the stairs at the hospital, but that’s another story. You can read that story here.

Then, they took my heart rate and my blood pressure. Both were really high and would not come down.

Part of that might have been because I did not know they were in the basement, and even when I made it to the basement, they were tucked in a corner that had me walking around the whole building for a while. Then I got myself worked up when my anxiety was already doing overtime– I’m thinking a lot about how I’m going to heat the house this winter, what my next strategy will be for maintaining the publishing company’s income, and facing the holidays, a time of year when I typically feel the absence of my family.

So today I started taking my beta blocker again as I initiated my Clever Fox fitness journal. I filled out all the spaces regarding measurements, goals and trackers. Maybe it will force me to be introspective and keep track of my own behavior.

And meanwhile, I have taken Bean Dog for several walks this week. Our first was on last week, and it lasted less than five minutes. We walked halfway up our block and back, just to see how she behaved for me and if she would walk with me and leave Eva behind. The second walk was straight down our street almost 1.5 blocks and straight back, for a total of nine minutes.

Yesterday we walked around the whole block, which took 12 minutes, but about 8 minutes in, Bean spotted our neighbor’s pitty jumping at the fence literally within view of our house and I was afraid to try to get her home. In trying to grab her heel-level handle, I scraped my knuckles on the asphalt and decided to just sit there and wait for Eva to rescue us or for the dog to calm herself.

Today we walked two full blocks (15 minutes) after Eva trained me to use a hands-free leash with a bungee-style lead to absorb some of the force. Eva hooked it to the traditional leash so if she started to react badly I could brace my body weight and use more of my power to balance the dog, and then regain my control by taking the traditional leash back.

We have not had to do that, but it’s good practice and good exercise for both of us.

PS– I return to the medical fitness center tomorrow to resume my intake testing.

People and Dogs: Come on, where’s the common sense?

If you don’t know, my daughter– The Teenager about to turn 20– works in the pet care industry, primarily doing dog walks and in-home pet care visits. She is also a dog trainer, and spends a lot of time and energy studying dogs, observing dog body language and finding solutions to people’s problems with their dogs.

She is the one who encouraged me to apply for a service dog, and although I grew up with dogs, she has taught me so much about dogs and why they do what they do.

Her dog, F. Bean Barker, who, will be four this summer, can be reactive and territorial. The Teenager has worked very hard to decrease her dog’s reactivity and expose the dog to situations to improve her tolerance. Today, we took her to a dog park. The dog park is less than two miles away from our home and off-the-beaten path so it’s not as well-traveled as some other local places. It has a lot of green area to explore even outside of the dog park. So, if the dog park is occupied, there is other stuff to do.

This dog park has two sides, one for dogs 25 pounds and under, the other for dogs larger than 25 pounds. Each side has a double gate system, so you can enter the first enclosed room and make sure your dog is ready to enter the other side without risking releasing any dogs already in the park. (In this dog park, there is also a gate between the two sides.)

Now, if you do not have a dog or if you have a rural dog who has no need of a dog park, you may not understand that dog parks can be extremely dangerous. You never know how other people’s dogs will react, and you can find that certain dogs have behaviors that can unnerve the most calm and pleasant dog. Owners often don’t keep close enough control over their dogs inside the park, believing the environment is contained and safe. But just like two normally well-behaved children can suddenly behave like cold-hearted killers on a public playground, dogs can change in this unfamiliar and potentially unmonitored environment.

We know Bean is a good dog, well-trained with a recall, but that she often has a hard time with other dogs especially if they aren’t appropriately socialized. Now, even if you think your dog is “good with other dogs” or “well-socialized,” you may not understand dog body language or stress signals to know how well your dog is doing in a new situation.

Knowing this, we brought plenty of our dog’s favorite treats, put her in a harness and on a prong collar and tucked a can of “pet corrector” into our gear. When we arrived at the dog park, one adult and one child had two small dogs running the entire expanse of both sides of the dog park. The Teenager decided not to engage and walked the dog around the human passive recreation trails.

The family soon left, taking their two small dogs off leash through the parking lot and leaving every gate in the dog park open— the two entering the small dog park AND the interior. That means if someone had entered the large dog park, appropriately, the large dog could have run into the small dog side and exited into the busy parking lot. Really?

Needless to say, this dog grandmother went through and checked every gate before Bean and The Teenager entered.

I sat under the pavilion and watched while Bean and The Teenager explored.

I was technically lookout, because The Teenager had removed Bean’s leash and if another dog came The Teenager wanted enough time to leash her dog and make sure Bean was under control, or at least, obedient.

I looked up from my book (Hunter’s Shea’s Manrattan which I am enjoying very much) and there was an unattended mastiff with no leash standing outside the gate. The Teenager already had Bean outside the dog park and releashed. So, we left.

The owner of the mastiff strolled leisurely to the gate, while his unleashed dog just had free reign. Why don’t people have common sense???

Dogs in public should be leashed. It’s a law. I don’t care how well-behaved your dog is– if it is attacked or frightened, it will end up in a fight. Even the best dog in the world would defend itself in a fight, so regardless of how the fight starts, both dogs could be injured or killed.

And, as someone on a wait-list for a service dog, it angers me to see how many people don’t understand why certain laws exist regarding where dogs can go and how they should be handled. A dog masquerading as a service dog in a store for example not only might create a bad example for real service dogs, but if it is not trained properly it could attack or spook another animal (or a person or a service dog). A service dog that encounters poorly-managed and badly trained animals in public could be attacked or spooked in such a way that it might not be able to do its job, creating a financial and practical hardship for the disabled person relying on that dog.

So please, leash and control your dogs as the laws ask you to do.

The follow-up and the next fall

Yesterday, I visited my primary care physician. He was thrilled because my blood pressure has stayed at 100-110/70 for the last six months. I am disappointed that my weight has not budged.

Around the last snow storm, I noticed my sinus troubles got so bad that only a day of Sudafed would stop my sneezing (see more here or via the publishing company’s Substack newsletter here) and that since then the mild lightheadness and congestion have not abated. And since I took a flying leap out the warehouse door March 1, 2023 and following that with stair acrobatics at home March 13, I had to ask my doctor– could my sinuses be contributing to my fall risk more than we realize?

So, he changed up my allergy medicine to move me from OTC remedies to prescription medication.

I also mentioned that my heart rate has been stable, even when I have no caffeine or overindulge in the stuff, and that salt has a strong effect on my heart and my weight. But I was no closer to keeping my heart rate under control first thing in the morning.

He asked me to tweak my beta blocker routine to take it before I get out of bed in the morning. And to be completely attentive to it at night. For a month, I am to take both half-pill doses as close to 7 o’clock as possible to see if that prevents my heart rate from jumping from 60 to 80 when I sit up, and then from having another jump from 80 to 100 when I stand. If that balances out my heart rate, he may move me to an extended release medication to maintain my heart rate. Especially since I have a small aneurysm in my brain.

The new allergy medicine he put me on– shifting me from Zyrtec and Flonase to prescription strength Claritin and Nasonex– was ready at my pharmacy by dinner time last night.

“It’s a preferred medication of your insurance,” my doctor said, “so it shouldn’t cost you too much.”

So, the teenager and I took the dog on a walk to CVS this morning where the generics of these two medications, for a one-month supply, cost $93. I know my Zyrtec and Flonase probably cost similar– but I never pay full-price. I use coupons and extra bucks and buy the generic, and on top of all that buy the twin pack and split it with my friend Nancy.

We walk home, and I don’t really complain about the price because I need to know if sinuses are increasing my fall risk and I want to know if I can reduce that risk so the investment is worth it.

On the way home, the dog was frolicking on a small hill, and she came trotting down to catch up with the teenager. She misjudged or maybe lost her footing and raced down the hill right at me, hit me in the legs and sent me flying. I landed on the sidewalk. My knee has a hearty scrape, my hands are sore, and my nervous system is done for the day.

Welcome February or “Wow, it’s been a month!”

I didn’t realize– or perhaps deep down inside I did– that I did not write in this blog at all in the month of January. I have written in the Parisian Phoenix blog, on my Substack, for the Lehigh Valley Armchair Substack, for Kiss and Tell magazine, for press releases and social media…

But not here.

I have spent much time applying for jobs, going on job interviews, and following up with second interviews, and working with my authors at our small publishing company, attending networking events, meeting with other writers and professionals, and grocery shopping at discount retailers like Grocery Outlet and the Dollar Tree.

(Grocery budget has been $25/week, but this week I splurged and bought a baker’s dozen bagels for $9.50 at Panera because they have a sale on Tuesday, and I used my CVS coupons and their sales to buy 2 boxes of KIND breakfast bars, a box of Grape Nuts and a box of Cocoa Krispies for $13.)

My personal favorite cheap meal this month has been these gnocchi from the Dollar Tree, served with a cream sauce I made with butter, lemon, and some artichoke hearts (using the oil they were marinated in). The artichoke hearts and the Barber Foods Chicken Stuffed with Broccoli and Cheese came from Grocery Outlet. The whole meal cost me about $3 per serving. And I used up some half and half that was on its last leg.

If it weren’t for car insurance for the teen and heat (I’ve been keeping the house at a balmy 60 degrees since I had to pay for $600 in furnace repairs in December), I have enough clients to keep me afloat indefinitely even after unemployment runs out in about six weeks. But the uncertainty of it all is hard. My biggest faux pas since my lay off was dropping the oil cap into the engine compartment of my car while topping off my fluids before a winter storm.

Luckily, good old Southern Candy and her son came to my aid and he fished it out for me– took him 45 minutes and the promise of the $50 cash I had in my wallet. I could hear my Dad laughing the entire time. I swear he’s been playing practical jokes on me from the afterlife with all of these little mechanical problems.

Like he’s checking to make sure I can take care of myself.

Sometimes, Daddy, I don’t know.

We had two snowstorms in January. During one of which, the first actually, one of the Teenager’s college friends spent the night. (Photo: Here they are at about 10 p.m. having a snowball fight with one of our neighbors, a high school friend of the Teen.) The College Friend hails from Los Angeles, so this was her first snow. And we bundled her up in home-knit hats and gloves and sent her out to shovel and play in my snow boots. Because Lord knows I am not going out in that if I don’t have to.

I drove over to the Bizzy Hizzy, the now nearly empty Stitch Fix warehouse, to show my daughter the old Freestyle and Pick carts that had been set out for the trash. The carts are laminated, corrugated cardboard so I imagined they deflated pretty badly in all the rain. I explained to her how we used to pick, and showed her the pencil cans we used to hold our water bottles and the heavy-duty page protectors that held the pack slips after installation of the Big Ass Fans blew them out of the carts. Three years, evaporated and erased.

I’m still working out with Andrew at Apex Training and meeting my strength goals even if I am failing at my weight goals. The Teen says I need to be more body-positive, but I know I am regularly showing more than 500 garbage calories into my body for the emotional sensation of it. And I also know that as someone with heart and mobility issues, being overweight is not helping.

In good news though, because I share so much about my journal both as someone with cerebral palsy and someone who finds strength training cool and empowering, several other members of my gym are now setting strength goals and strength training into their routines.

While visiting Nan the other day I got to meet a really cute dog. She’s a French sheep dog. Nan and her owner both told me her breed and now I don’t remember. I asked Siri and she suggested a Wheaten Terrier or a Goldendoodle and both of those are wrong. So, I googled French sheep dog breeds and it suggested a few and I immediately recognized the word “Briard.” And it is indeed a dog that would get stuck in briars.

And last week, the Echo City guys and I went out to Pints & Pies for burgers for the guys and pizza for me. It was a very tasty pizza. I have been dreaming of it and the cold Yuengling draft I had ever since.

A day in the life— medical update, meal plans, sunshine, animals and publishing

I make a lot of lists.

Sometimes my journals are nothing but to do lists and shopping lists. But I like lists— even if I never refer to them again, the act of making a list allows me to stop thinking about things.

If I want to refer to it later, I know where to look, but I no longer have to worry about forgetting as if I want to remember or revisit items from an earlier day I can but I am not staring at a list focusing on what needs to be addressed versus what I actually did.

Many people make lists to receive the satisfaction of checking off the things that are done. I don’t do that. Sometimes I do, but now it’s more like I am acknowledging the list versus trying to conquer it.

I used to finish my list every day or stress over the things I didn’t get to, and on top of that— the list never made me feel better or more in control.

It just exhausted me.

Trapped and the Cover for the Anthology Arrive

Parisian Phoenix’s first contemporary romance has arrived and it looks great. Read more about that here.

But I also received the cover for Not An Able-Bodied White Man with Money, which I will be blogging about on the Parisian Phoenix site this weekend.

And I have a 4 p.m. meeting today with another author who I have been hoping would join our family.

Now if only I could finalize some of our business documents to really move the projects forward.

Yesterday (Voluntary Time Off) and evaluating my health

Life at Stitch Fix’s Bizzy Hizzy has been odd lately. We’re shipping something like 8,000 fixes a day and having the opportunity for voluntary time off.

Last week, I performed at pretty damn close to 100% without pain or significant mobility issues. This week, issues started mildly during my Sunday shift and deteriorated Monday & Tuesday, leaving me at 80% and crying myself to sleep. I talked about this here.

I’m very much wondering if my menstrual cycle has something to do with it, as the Mirena IUD has done miracles for my pain and issues in that department but has made my cycle irregular. I think my body is trying to menstruate later than usual.

I was taking inventory of my recent balance, mobility and functioning issues as today I had my annual “wellness visit” that the office rescheduled from last week.

I took VTO yesterday to allow myself some rest and some time as life (and grief from my father’s death two months ago) has gotten chaotic and overwhelming.

And I made the teenager and I grilled cheese as I had promised to do, and the child acted like I had prepared filet mignon for her.

I have a feeling I will be repeating that after school today.

We also watched Miranda Sings Live on Netflix. The teenager went through a time when she watched the show, so that was weird. It always amazes me how much talent it takes to perform badly.

The doctor today

I have spent more than a decade assembling a talented and caring medical team, so now I can confidently say any issues with my medical treatment stem from the system and not from my doctors.

The doctor and his resident agreed with my assessment that it’s time for me to get into the physiatrist and that their office will advocate for me on that as well, and that my instincts and approaches are correct.

I learned that women more so than men tend to favor one side when they move or stand. As women age, this tendency can create problems. That means this is a problem normal people have and not just a result of cerebral palsy.

And most interestingly… I learned that women more so than men tend to favor one side when they move or stand. As women age, this tendency to let’s say ‘lean’ can create problems, just like what I am experiencing now with my right hip and right leg/foot. That means this is a problem normal people have and not just a result of cerebral palsy.

I reiterated to them that I do know I need to lose 20 pounds, but that we have some issues to address before that.

The psychology of emotional and physical pain

When I was turning 40, I embarked on a journey to lose five pounds and gain muscle. I inadvertently lost 30 lbs and ended up a skeleton and regained some weight to look like this:

That was about 30 pounds ago. I have no need to be that lean again, but I’d really like to see 135 lbs again— which means I need to lose 20 lbs.

I told my doctor and his resident— I know I can’t eat an entire bag of cheese puffs or Wawa bowl of mac and cheese and brisket after dinner. But I’m struggling with depression from my body pain and my father’s unexpected death.

I’m grateful I haven’t turned to alcohol like many in my family, but I have “given in” to food as a psychological crutch.

I pay almost $300 a month for a personal trainer, but I can’t work as hard as I want to because I hurt and I feel like I need answers as to how to move my body so it doesn’t hurt. Because if I could exercise more and move more, I wouldn’t sabotage myself by eating garbage (or if I did, I would be active enough to balance it).

But right now, when I come home from a ten-hour shift with my body twisted and aching badly, and wishing I could call my dad so he could make me laugh and tell me how much it sucks to get old, I grab junk food because it’s the last pleasure I have.

I can’t move without pain so if I’m going to be forced to get fat and lazy I might as well enjoy the process.

These are ugly thoughts and I know that, but I’m being honest.

The fun stuff: errands with Nan

After leaving my primary care doctor, I called Nan as we were scheduled to do some errands together. We stopped at Wawa for some hot caffeinated beverages (cafe con leche for me and vanilla chai for Nan).

Among other stops we visited Park Avenue Market and Deli, one of our favorite haunts known for its deli, salads and meats.

Although I am once again contemplating more of a vegan diet, which will make the teenaged carnivore wince, I am not ready to commit until I feel better. We must achieve discipline before we enact change.

I never got around to meal planning yesterday so I didn’t have a list. I ended up spending $36.89 and I think the results will work.

I purchased: two packs of beef jerky, one small box of minute rice for the teen, three or four teeny tiny bags of Wise snacks from popcorn to potato chips, meatballs, the biggest damn carrot I’ve ever seen, frozen vegetable medley with potatoes and garlic herb sauce, sweet potato crinkle cut fries, pork roll, Lebanon bologna, liverwurst, turkey, olive salad, a store-baked pig ear for the dog and something called “hot pepper shooters”— round hot peppers stuffed with prosciutto and provolone.

Rough meal plan

My rough meal plan for the next week or so is:

  • Sandwiches
  • Meatballs and green peppers, either as a sandwich or in pasta
  • vegetable lasagna still in the freezer from last week
  • Burgers and fries, using ground beef from the freezer and the sweet potato fries
  • Cold tortellini salad with roasted carrot, olive salad and seasoned broccoli (broccoli is in the freezer)
  • Pork roll and egg sandwiches
  • Chicken and the frozen vegetables and rice or other grain

PS— we also welcomed a new foster into the house. Her name is Babs. Meet her in this video. I need to make her a page.

Rainy Icy Friday

I don’t have many plans this weekend— defined by my work schedule as Thursday, Friday and Saturday— in part because my body has been unpredictable, the weather has been crazy and the teenager’s work schedule varies.

I went to the chiropractor at 5 p.m. on Wednesday, leaving work 30 minutes early to get the last appointment of the day. I wanted Dr. Jensen to see my body after four ten-hour shifts in Stitch Fix’s Bizzy Hizzy warehouse.

And, for the second or third week in a row, I could barely crawl home on Tuesday night but felt pretty good on Wednesday. So I feel like I’m not getting closer to solutions to my physical issues.

Yesterday I tried to do some work for Parisian Phoenix, did a lot of laundry, visited briefly with a friend I’ve missed and haven’t seen merely enough of, taught a high school student how to write a press release, watched several episodes of Cobra Kai, ran the dishwasher and went to the gym.

The teenager working on her squat form

The teenager did a lot of work on her squat form while I did some accessory work. I also weighed myself— 157 lbs. Sigh. Still 20 pounds overweight.

Then we had Taco Bell, including the new Cinnabon balls.

Today I worked on the index for the Parisian Phoenix nonfiction anthology on marginalized identities, Not an Able-Bodied White Man with Money, which I will be blogging about on the Parisian Phoenix web site later tonight. F. Bean Barker was my helper.

Indexing is only half complete and man does it allow me to interact with the text in new ways.

Louise has an appointment with a potential adopter tomorrow and today she was quite cuddly, video here. I don’t know how she’ll do in the backroom of PetSmart but all least we’ll be with her.

Nala and Louise

In the afternoon, I accompanied the teenager to her audiologist appointment for a tune-up on her hearing aids.

Then we went for shoes. The teenager needed some and I wanted to buy a warmer pair that fit more loosely — hoping that would ease the blistering and burning in my toes.

The teenager got new black Vans and a new design, the orange blossom Vans.

We ran into Target just to use the bathroom and I told the pouty teenager we could get a drink at Sonic. But turns out Sonic is still drive through only, so if you can’t have drive-in service what’s the point of visiting Sonic?

So we went to Sheetz, and had appetizers. Which would have been fine if the teenager hadn’t suggested going to see her grandmother, my mother-in-law. And her aunt— who recently destroyed her elbow falling on the ice.

We’re finishing Captain America: Civil War right now. The ice is slowly building up outside as the cold rolls into town. And Peter Parker just made his debut in the series.

Struggling to find a groove

Change is hard.

Sunday we arrived at work to learn we couldn’t punch in because engineering was upgrading the time clock system. I managed to ship 374 items in 296 packages as part of the Freestyle department.

And my dad— who has been struggling with Covid— ended up back in the hospital.

But then Monday rolled around and I was back in my home department folding clothes.

I was ready to try and excel as the change in shifts has been hard. The ten hour day is amazingly smooth, but getting up at 5 a.m. is exhausting — even if I go to bed at 9 p.m.

And then we changed software and the computers couldn’t keep up with the new system so everyone was working at 80 percent. Okay, I can’t prove everyone, but there’s a day shift woman who told me she always hits her numbers and yesterday she only did 108 instead of 130.

On top of this I had several fixes that I struggled to put in an extra large box and half way through the day the stats went down.

I am struggling to stay motivated and moving without my average time per fix being tracked, let alone no stats at all.

And then some guy drilled each of our table and attached new brooms and butlers. We used to share one or two brooms per valley, now we have about 20.

Many many brooms.

And around 2:30 p.m., a day shift peer was talking to someone who might have been a processing lead and she started hysterically crying for a good 20 minutes.

So I was very glad when yesterday was over. Not only was my back hurting, but my right leg is acting up again and I have intense pains in one of my right toes.

Then today started. My computer doesn’t have a keyboard or a mouse. Just a keypad. And the computer can’t “see” it. Lost ten minutes looking for a mouse until a lead stole one on my behalf.

One of my favorite second shift QC support people— we’ll call him Flying J in honor of the way he buzzes through the valleys with carts under his arms like wings of an airplane— brought me refixes! You know, the fixes that needed to be fixed and come on top of the cart instead of inside.

AND he told day shift that I liked them.

And one of the day shift support people came to see me and said she would bring me as many as she could. Then she paused.

“I don’t know how to say this without offending you,” she said.

“Honey, you can’t offend me.”

“I see the way you work and I see the way you walk—”

I interrupted her. “I have cerebral palsy,” I said. “And right now, my spine is bent the wrong way. I struggle to get the fixes out of slots 7 & 8.”

I was really moved. I am always touched when people want to help.

And today was our December employee luncheon.

Meanwhile, at home, the teenager did a ritual (at my request) for my father’s recovery.

After work, we took the dog for ice cream at The Spot.

Bean Dog eating ice cream video.

I challenged the Chromebook and lost

I only got five hours sleep last night. My emotions were a mess, my body in pain, and I had a sinking suspicion some of my issues are menstrual cycle/hormone related since in addition to my S1 joint issues, I also feel all my cramps in my lower back. PMS week is supposed to start this weekend, but as a forty-something woman I think the party is starting early.

I treated the teens to iced coffee at Wawa. They have a $2 special going on right now and I gotta say I still don’t like Wawa’s iced coffee. I don’t like their flavors. The coffee tastes week. And they never put enough ice in, and I’m the woman that asks for less ice at Dunkin’.

I get to work at Stitch Fix’s Bizzy Hizzy. I see I am once again assigned to QC so I take some ibuprofen and head to my favorite table— Valley 1, line 1B, table 2B.

And after the first hour, the supervisor who also has a disability comes over.

“Angel,” he says, “would you do us a favor and move to pick?”

“Now you know I’m glad to say yes. When?”

I’m thinking after lunch. Nope. He says to go after I finish my cart— which is two fixes!

I only picked 120, and at 11:29 pm my Samsung Chromebook warned me it had 34 minutes left. It died 20 minutes later. Apparently it can’t do math. I only had two more items left to complete my cart, and one was one aisle away. We had to manually get the last items as you can’t restart a pick from the middle.

And I felt better doing all of this than I have all week. Even despite wearing rather impractical shoes.

I came home and took out F. Bean Barker (who I learned is half pitbull/half mastiff). The neighbor’s dog barked as she was mid squat and she refused to go to the bathroom, too afraid.

And then she had explosive, watery diarrhea in the dining room and downstairs bathroom. And we ran out of paper towels.

All in all— an adventurous day.

Highmark Walk for a Healthy Community ProJeCt 2020

On Saturday morning, the teenager and I went down to Easton cemetery to support the Palmer Kiwanis team as they participated in the Highmark Walk for a Healthy Community to support my employer, ProJeCt of Easton.

For more on that adventure, click here: Cruising the Cemetary with the Palmer Kiwanis

Today, I took a slightly elongated lunch break to take my team to the Karl Stirner Arts Trail. We started at the Silk Mill.

Me and My Team
Me, Buddy Eddy (dog of Team Member Sarah), the teenager and my good friend Gayle who writes a blog Fat Girl Walking

We headed down the trail and enjoyed the various art, the breezy trail, and the picturesque creek —all on the way to the dog park.

And then to end the outing, we let Buddy play and we got ice cream at Ow Wow Cow.

To register a team or donate to my team: Highmark Walk

For Gayle’s blog entry visit: Fat Girl Walking

Our previous visit to the arts trail: A walk on the Arts Trail