In my neighborhood, we used to have three Dunkins within “walking” distance. We had one about a half mile to the east, at a major intersection in a weird section of the neighboring town. That one has since closed. That was the closest, and the employees didn’t give a shit, and they always would mess up even the simplest drinks but they would pretty much give away any doughnuts you could want.
There is the Dunkin a mile away, but that one is in the middle of a busy intersection of the highway, a main road and the meeting of several shopping plazas. A traffic nightmare and a tiny parking lot. But that one gets your drinks correct.
Then, there is the Dunkin about two miles away, a block off the leisurely bike path. That one has the largest lobby and bakes the doughnuts for the others. That’s the one I used to walk to so I could pee in the middle of my four mile daily walk. That was years ago. Hard to believe a decade has passed.
During that time, Dunkin has free coffee promotions and mug promotions, $1 iced coffee and now $2 iced coffee. I have realized over time that my loyalty to Dunkin was about convenience and frugality.
When I worked at Target I drank Starbucks iced coffee, because it cost 50 cents, the refill price, if we brought our own cups. Even then I preferred Starbucks to Dunkin.
But I have always enjoyed Panera’s iced dark roast. And finally, after years of considering it, I joined their monthly sip club in December.
On Sunday, I got my second month update of how many times I used my Sip Club privileges. 42 beverages since December 15.
The Sip Club retails for $11.99 a month. It allows the user to redeem one soft drink, coffee or tea (the simple Panera beverages) every two hours. I received an invitation to try the Sip club for $3/month for three months. I find Panera a relaxing place to work and an easy place to meet clients.
But 42 drinks in 60 days? I never anticipated that. I didn’t anticipate heading to Panera about once a week to escape my house and force myself to focus on projects I had been procrastinating. I didn’t anticipate having write-ins with a friend every other week, or suggesting to other friends that Panera could infuse positive work energy into a troubled project. I also did not think about how my favorite Panera sits beside a Barnes & Noble and a Dollar Tree.
Considering all of those things– I think the Sip club might be an even better business investment than HP InstaInk and Paper. I’m sold on the ink but I’m still on the fence about the paper.
Anyway… I had a Dunkin coffee today and it did not measure up to the coffee I enjoy at Panera.
My secret hope for this weekend was to run to Washington DC and visit my traveling companion M. He has to work this weekend, so I ended up chatting with him briefly on the phone and accompanying The Teenager to Quest for bloodwork.
Like me, The Teenager has difficult veins, but I’ve had good luck with one particular Quest office I book for all my blood draw needs.
Apparently in addition to being tiny, The Teenager’s veins like to hide. They did manage to extract the goods, but it took a heat pack, some patience and some trial and error.
Since the bloodwork required fasting, we stopped at Sheetz where The Teen loaded up at carbohydrates so I swung by Dunkin for an egg wrap to balance her choices. She had a client meeting at 10 and at 9:45 the employees at Dunkin couldn’t find our order.
I told the Teen to leave me and I’d read a book in the lobby until her return. So here I am.
I’m reading The Last Train to Key West by Chanel Cleeton that I ordered through Bookshop.org. The book is the next selection for the book club at Mary Meuser Memorial Library where I serve as a trustee.
In the lobby with me, there sits three men of “Middle Eastern” descent, probably Lebanese or Syrian, all jabbering away in Arabic, one of whom The Teenager and I recently met in our local CVS.
Shortly after I arrived, the woman with two toddlers whom I saw at Quest came in. She treated her kids to donuts, probably as a bribe after sitting in their collapsible wagon at Quest.
I had my full activity session at Physical Therapy today. I did my stretches, got strapped into the gait belt, and did a series of single leg stability exercises under the supervision of the computer’s measurements.
Then we headed to the zero-G treadmill. I was advised to make my feet and pants have contrast. So, I wore my bright green shoes, my purple polka-dot knee socks, and my black-and-white cat leggings from Purr Haus in Emmaus.
He chuckled while remarking that I certainly followed directions.
The Zero-G treadmill required some rubbery pants surrounded by what resembles a surgical/Elizabethan collar (cone of shame) that get zipped into a treadmill pretty much encased in plastic. When it filled with air, it reduced my body weight. I was able to walk the treadmill at 50% of my body weight.
The reason for contrast is that the treadmill offers an image of your feet. Three views on a monitor: front, side and back. So I was able to watch my feet, move my legs, angle my feet and reinforce the improved gait pattern by watching it as I walked.
I was only on the treadmill for 15 minutes, but it that time I discovered what part of my foot I normally don’t use. It was exhausting– and exhilarating– and so fun to show the Teenager the results when I got home.
But before I got home though I had an appointment to have my stitches out and on my goodness did I have the most personable and confident resident yet. I only had three stitches but that last one gave her a terrible time. It took her thirty minutes to get all of them out. I had her laughing and she was very patient and determined, and so afraid she was going to hurt me because “if it were me I’d be jumping out of my seat!”
She said I was the best patient ever, that I sat so still and I must have a high pain tolerance.
Between the two appointments, I stopped at Dunkin for a decaf coffee and saw they had a new “egg taco.” I read the nutritional info and with 500 mg of sodium, 180 calories and 8 grams protein, it had less salt and more protein and less calories than the avocado toast. I am so sad they no longer have the hummus.
When I got home, I did some little things and ate the homemade chicken and dumplings my Pennsylvania Dutch mother-in-law is known to deliver when people in the family are sick. And then I tried to take a nap, but a little birdie was guarding me.
I followed up with one of the residents at my primary care physician’s office today for my “post hospital follow-up.”
It was a pretty big outing, especially since my blood pressure has been hovering around 105/70 for most of the day, I feel weak, occasionally my heart races, my ears are ringing and my pinky keeps going numb. The Teenager would not be around to escort me to the doctor, so I did some morning chores, organized my Parisian Phoenix Publishing email box, and then read for a bit on the couch.
I had plans today to visit Book and Puppet Company in downtown Easton after the doctor, but my partner-in-crime had to schedule a doctor appointment himself.
So, instead, I asked Southern Candy if she’d like to accompany me to the Dunkin’ Donuts on Schoenersville Road because they have the widest selection of Munchkins, and we met up with Sassy, which made me happy because tomorrow is Sassy’s last day is tomorrow and I won’t get to see her as I am out on leave.
The doctor appointment didn’t leave me with many answers, but the resident was competent enough and my paperwork for short-term disability should be in the right hands. Speaking of my accident, the bruises have all come out now. The nasty one on my back is not one I can photograph myself. But I have some on both legs, my back, my elbow and my face.
As anticipated, the munchkins had cinnamon, jelly, chocolate, blueberry and glazed.
Mr. Accordion adored the jelly munchkins and now I’ve taken to them as they remind me of the good times with my roomie at the toxic non-profit with the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde CEO. That was an amazing job. I learned so much and could have done so much if the CEO could have performed as a sane manager should.
I got a text message from the home heart monitor people, apparently they had my name spelled wrong and they were missing a digit from my ID number for my health insurance.
Thurston’s book arrived and I’m hosting a Facebook live in the morning to unveil them.
And to make a completely ordinary day sound even plainer, we had vegan spinach ravioli for dinner with a spicy superfood tomato sauce from Hungryroot. It hit the spot.
It’s been six days since I touched base. My friend is home from the hospital and probably climbing the walls. I’ve been doing a lot of work on Parisian Phoenix stuff– getting the Substack off the ground, editing material for clients and my authors, and sending packages out.
Normally I go to the gym Monday, Wednesday and Friday but this week I haven’t felt well. Even after my chiropractor appointment on Monday, I still struggled with body pain in unusual places. My chiropractor confirmed that I was feeling more issues in my sacrum as opposed to my normal troubles in my hips. My quads bothered me for a while after that and the drop from warm weather to icy wintry mix made my knees burn. That was new. All of these sensations led to my right side feeling rubbery and unstable.
I’ve also had a lot of commitments recently and not enough down time, so that didn’t help.
Wednesday night I ended up skipping the gym because of pain and a meeting for the Lehigh Valley Book Festival that ran until 6 p.m., which meant I didn’t even get to my town until 6:30 p.m. and exercising in pain and hungry did not seem smart. You can read about my visit to Let’s Play Books on the Parisian Phoenix blog, here.
And when I got home, The Teenager had purchased cheese steaks at Joe’s Steaks in Phillipsburg. My standard order is a hot cheese steak, no onions, and an order of pizza rolls. She did not remember the pizza rolls.
I actually asked my boss to use two hours of my intermittent medical leave to come home and take a nap yesterday, because supporting my own weight and balancing was exhausting.
Best. Nap. Ever. I still feel achy today, but much better, probably because I had an appointment with my primary care physician. I thought it was for my annual physical, but apparently it was a six-month follow-up. Follow up for? Be darned if I remember. My mallet finger and the resulting leave from work because I was all out of whack?
I noticed while waiting for him that I was wearing two different shoes. They are the same shoe, but two different pairs in two different sizes. Interestingly, I put the smaller shoe on the smaller foot. Because it turns out my left foot is a size eight, but my right is 8.5.
He approved of my blood pressure numbers, didn’t say anything about the roller coaster of my weight, wondered if I had my anxiety under control, and asked about my service dog application. He thinks I have a cataract starting in my right eye, that I’m salt sensitive and that I need to take care of myself and (my words not his) calm the fuck down. Oh– and lay off the caffeinated beverages.
And as soon as I left the parking lot, I went to the Dunkin a block away and bought the new chocolate caramel cold brew. Even though I had chocolate in my coffee. But I figured this would be a candy bar, and I was right. My lunch consisted of cold brew, pistachios, apples and a KIND breakfast bar.
I returned to work, finished lunch with my friends and went out to the warehouse floor where I might have hit way over 100% thanks to the buzz from the coffee. I took the early release/voluntary time off and came home to packages!
We got two Freestyle packages from Stitch Fix, one from the Dizzy (in Dallas) and the Phizzy (in Phoenix) which The Teenager recorded me opening.
Our Little Dog Neighbor Sobaka is staying with us this week. So The Teenager and I took both dogs for a walk.
Second, let’s celebrate that it’s sun-shining gorgeous out.
Third, let’s celebrate that that damn race between Dr. Oz and John Fetterman is over. Talk about two bad choices.
But it sure was exciting to take my freshly-minted 18-year-old to vote and even more exciting to hear her rant about international politics after she took my out to dinner.
M and I took her to Paris, Moscow and Kazan the summer she turned 12… and while it was a whirlwind visit, she had the brain-expanding experience I hoped she would have.
Because she knows how little of the world she’s seen, but also knows how little she can trust depictions of other cultures perpetuated by the mainstream.
I often wish I could see Russia how she sees Russia. I imagine it’s similar to my view, but also very different because I have seen parts of North and East Africa and even Yemen. But just that little pop of Russia six years ago altered her perceptions forever.
So, last night, The Teenager took me out to dinner— at Applebee’s, she loves the fiesta lime chicken— and we tried the Cheetos cheese curds and the slamming reindeer drink.
The cheese curds were strange, super greasy and very addictive.
Other foods I have taste-tested recently include the cookie butter doughnut at Dunkin which I mention here and some new flavors of delicious Blue Diamond almonds which we bought at QuickChek, video here.
I ended up calling out sick from work today— in part because of my hip and in part because I didn’t get to sleep until 3.
I see my specialist today, and my body is definitely stiff and angled but I’m not in pain. What a thing to say— but I wanted to be in pain to explain how I feel to the doctor.
I’m trying to motivate myself to give up sugar and do a 30 day elimination diet via Whole30 as I think reducing food-related inflammation in my body could go a long way. And there are others who would like to see me try medical marijuana.
I signed up for NaNoWriMo 2022, in part because deadlines and challenges and what feels impossible sometimes motivates me. But between foster cats with diarrhea, work shift changes, health issues and mood in general, I’m losing my focus and drive. I need a reset and an evaluation of my goals more than I need a push.
I have learned in the last five years or so as I’ve “come out” of the disability “closet,” is that when you have a disability or a chronic condition you have a choice: you either withdraw from life or you become tenacious and stubborn and adaptive. I think the majority of those of us with congenital issues, especially when our parents didn’t make our physical difference the center of our existence, tend to be the latter to the point of ridiculousness. We want to do things, whatever they are, and we don’t want our bodies to hinder us.
I think people who came to body differences later in life might be more prone to accept “well I just won’t do that anymore” while younger people with catastrophic injuries have the will to keep on going, and those with issues since birth learn that if they want to experience certain things they have to work harder but in reality we need to work creatively. So the 20-year-old proclaimed paralyzed as the result of a sporting accident will be more motivated to walk again than the 60-year-old who had a car accident.
But these are really complex topics to ponder and very personalized to the emotional and financial resources a person has to support them.
If you read my personal blog, you know I have diplegic spastic cerebral palsy. If you get tired of hearing me day that, I don’t care. I’m 47-years-old and like many Generation Xers out there I’m wondering how the hell that has happened so quickly. But more importantly, and I write this without judgment, I had no real medical treatment between the ages of five and twenty.
I realized– because of my job working in the warehouse at Stitch Fix of all places– that not only do I know nothing about cerebral palsy, but my medical team might not know much either. So no wonder I have a lot of unanswered questions. This week I celebrate my two year anniversary with Stitch Fix and my journey to understand my own body will be forever tied with my warehouse job with them.
Up until December 2021, I had never seen a neurologist. Until that late December visit with a neurologist, I never even had a diagnosis on my file.
And to think, now I have TWO neurologists. I guess I just want to remind everyone, and this is why writing a cerebral palsy memoir will be one of my next projects, that we tend to view our doctors as people in a hierarchy above us and we approach them for answers and with hope of relief. Instead, we need to approach them as peers with education and insight and it’s our responsibility as patients to ferry information between them and do what we can for ourselves.
I had a fall Friday night, after a week long battle with nerve pain in my foot and leg. I agreed to cortisone shots in my foot to see if that would curb the pain in my foot (and it did) but the resulting change in sensation and muscle responsiveness has made this leg (which happens to be my good one) less reliable. Throw in lack of sleep, not enough food and a cocktail and down I went. As someone with cerebral palsy, I need to remember that normal side effects for people who have proper muscle control may manifest differently in me.
So, Saturday morning, I nestled under my new Dad blanket (if you need to hear more detail on any of this about Friday click here) and planned to work on my NaNoWriMo project. Even though I had the time, and the healthy start needed to get a flow going on the project, I didn’t write a word. And I’m wondering if, already having one novel underway and past deadline, if starting another is merely destroying any chance of focus I have.
I have 4,000 words on the NaNo project, which if you don’t know is National Novel Writing Month, and I should be at 12,000 words by now. I had hoped the new project, a new idea which is nothing like anything I’ve ever written, would shake off the bad habits of an editor/publisher debating every word and allow me to write freely. That impetus would revive my ability to write quickly and without overthinking.
And strengthen writing habits.
The jury is out.
I may abandon official NaNo in favor of sticking with a strict writing schedule of rising at 4 a.m. daily before my warehouse shift and writing from 4:15 to 5:15 a.m.
The Teenager has had two overnight clients and I think at last count it had been 16 days since she slept in her own bed. When she arrived home yesterday morning, she looked at me on the couch and her dog lazily dozing and decided we both needed fresh air. So she mentioned key words: “walk,” “ride” and “window.” The dog lost her mind.
The Teenager knows how to bribe both of us.
She recently bought a new harness and long line for the dog. So we went to a small park to try it out. The park outlaws tobacco, alcohol, fireworks, drugs and golf. But dogs are okay.
There’s a cute video on YouTube of F. Bean Barker enjoying the outdoors.
And then we went to “the Window.” Which in this case meant Dunkin as it was still early and we sampled their new Cookie Butter offerings, the cold brew and the doughnut. Both were dangerously decadent. The doughnut is 370 calories so I’m hoping it sells out to the extent where I can’t get my hands on it.
I went to the park and the window in my pajamas, because it was a gloomy Saturday and I didn’t see the point of fancying myself just to hang out with the dog.
I spent a good portion of the day doing dishes and laundry and watching “Wheeler Dealer Dream Car” on Motor Trend’s streaming channel. I subscribed to Motor Trend last month so I could binge watch the Dax Shepard redo of “Top Gear America” and I may hang on to the subscription as I enjoy the content. The Teenager finds this perplexing as she knows I have no mechanical aptitude.
She classifies my car knowledge as “it looks pretty” and “it goes fast,” but I suppose my interest is similar to my fascination with haute couture sewing. I have read my haute couture sewing guide cover to cover (and yes there is such a thing) and I can’t sew to save my life.
I suppose I am a true academic. Reading and obsessing over knowledge of things I will never have the skill to do.
Then, the Teenager found “her box” on the doorstep, her third fix from Stitch Fix!!!! So we opened that bad boy.
I think The Teenager is disappointed that her box doesn’t have more flare, but the staples she receives is really improving her day to day look. As a dog walker, I am now seeing her in these Stitch Fix selections as a way that she can maintain comfort and still look put together.
If you watch the YouTube review, you’ll see more of The Teenager in what she calls her new “math teacher sweater.” It’s a keeper. It’s about 16 hours after she received it and she’s still wearing it. Stay tuned to see if I steal her shoes and keep them.
Later in the day, I had an interview with David Figueroa of David’s Cerebral Palsy and Fitness Channel. I have explored his YouTube content and I listen to his podcast. I am working hard to take charge of my aging process and I hope my message of the importance of strength training and my approach to medical advocacy resonate with people.
We talked for an hour and a half. I’ve included a link to his YouTube channel below. Let’s hope the chaos of my house wasn’t too distracting! But one disruption I welcomed was the motorcycle that passed by while I was talking about my father.
I ended up sleeping more than nine hours last night, and woke up this morning covered in cats. I hope your time-change-hour served you as well as mine did. Here’s a photo of me with the fosters, and it’s blurry because I took it without my glasses.
Yesterday, I “broke” my dear blind friend Nan out of her independent living facility, her first outing since her bout with Covid-19. I drove up to the door in that convenient wide lane that have under the overhang and lowered the window on her side of the car.
“Hey, Nan,” I shouted. “Your getaway car has arrived.”
She laughed, and since she recently had her first Corona experience, it sure was nice to hear her laugh again.
I had the Spotify ready to go, as Nan loves a good random computer generated playlist, and we pulled off. Her goals were simple.
CVS for vitamin C and Excedrin
Batteries for her clock, 2-4 AAAs
Stop at her old apartment as there was a package for her that was not forwarded
Get some cash at the bank.
Well I told her right off that we had a 40-pack of AAAs somewhere in my house. So that was easy. I then told her I had thought I might take her back to my house for chai, but thought maybe getting out of a building into the sun would be more fun. That we could listen to Spotify in the car with the sunroof open sipping chai.
“That does sound nice,” she said.
“The same theory as taking the dog for a car ride,” I explained.
She laughed when I compared her to the dog, and I pointed out that really we both liked things that the dog would enjoy.
Nan and I headed into CVS, where I found her 200 generic acetaminophen, aspirin and caffeine tablets and 100 chewable vitamin C/rose hips tablets. The original price was $31.00 before tax, but I had carefully set up my CVS app to use some coupons that reduced her total to $20.58.
We drove to my house, got the batteries, and headed to her old apartment building.
“I just thought of something,” she said to me. “How are we going to get in?”
“I suppose you’ll have to tap the lobby door with your cane until someone sees you,” I said.
But there were no parking spots on street, and I pulled into the parking lot.
“Why don’t we just drive down to the back door and see if we see any of your neighbors,” I said.
“Good idea,” Nan agreed.
I saw the maintenance man at the back door. I pulled into the middle of the parking lot and hopped out of the car, escorting Nan as I hollered, “Excuse me, but can you let this vagabond into the building?”
She got her package.
We then got my favorite teller at the bank and almost went to a Dunkin several miles away, forgetting there was one on the other side of the bank.
We remembered in time.
We sat in the car, windows and sun roof open, enjoying the sun, listening to cars and birds and all the mundane sounds Nan had missed when trapped in her room with Covid.
And then, she went home and I talked to my friend Maryann Ignatz. I did all the press stuff I had planned for my business. I thought I deserved a small rest. I went up to my room and cuddled with some fosters, including sweet Jean-Paul Sartre.
The teenager texted that her boss was stopping by later. If you’re a regular here you might recall our “cat foster godmother.”
I decided to go downstairs and clean.
I grabbed my computer, Rosie, the 13″ MacBook Air, last of the Intel processor generation, and my iPhone. Foster cat Khloe has been a member of gen pop lately, free roaming the house because she scared the dog so badly. She can be a little dramatic.
The teenager has a baby gate with a cat door at the top of the stairs. Khloe was walking out the cat door and I went to unlatch the gate and must have tilted my hand just enough that Rosie the Laptop slipped from my fingers and somersaulted all the way down the uncarpeted, hard wood stairs.
When I opened her again, her screen image was splintered.
I have three book projects underway for Parisian Phoenix, and the Easton Book Festival coming up. I’m still wondering how best to pay off the recent ceiling repair…
Now is not the time.
But life is like that. I have to remind myself that we have more appreciation for the things that don’t come easy, that real success is slow.
And then I broke down into hysterics, alone, just me and the dog. And I scrubbed the floor on my hands and knees.
Yesterday I cleaned a lot of my downstairs and had a relatively good work out at Apex. I haven’t felt incredibly strong lately, but my IUD must be working because I’m not in pain.
I had a good week at work, so cleaning, working on Parisian Phoenix projects and watching Cobra Kai suited me just fine yesterday.
I even found two of the dog’s Kong balls under the couch which made for a very happy dog.
Today, I was supposed to have my annual physical but my doctor’s office called yesterday and rescheduled for next week— which also means another week without answers from my CT scan and physiatrist referral. Neither the neurologist nor the physiatrist’s office has called me back.
And I need a doctor that can help me understand the motion and mechanics of my body, and not just its individual parts.
Today I scrubbed the exterior of the stove and did dishes. Then I went to help my blind friend Nan with some errands and grocery shopping.
We made plans to pick up some pizza at Little Caesars so Nan could try the Batman Calzony. No matter how I tried I couldn’t explain what it was to the blind lady. So we bought one.
But we had time to kill before the teenager got out of school even after we put groceries away. We grabbed the dog and got drinks and hash browns (for the dog) at Dunkin.
And then we surprised the teenager with the dog at school.
Then Joan stopper by to drop off some hand-me-down magazines and erotica, cupcakes and photos that Joan needed us to sort.
Now, I’m cuddling with Louise, watching Gotham Garage and enjoying kitten photos.
I went to the chiropractor yesterday. Nicole at Back in Line Chiropractic and Wellness Center warned me that she “beat me up” more than usual.
That’s amusing to me as I was in an incredible amount of discomfort and she eliminated 90% of it.
I explained everything going on— my stress, my lack of good sleep, the possibility I had omicron, not eating right or taking my vitamins, not stretching or working out, and working overtime.
But as soon as she touched the back of my right hip, the tenderness immediately told me there was an issue I hadn’t thought of: my hip.
I need to remember that when I struggle to use my legs I might have an issue with my hip.
This post explores the last time I had this same issue: click here.
And if you look at that entry, you will see my mental health had declined in similar proportion to what I experienced earlier this week.
Pain and shifts in mobility really do have profound effects on our mental health.
So maybe next time instead of focusing on all the things that are going wrong and contributing to my lack of function and mental health, I need to be quicker to ask for medical intervention because — as I already know— I can’t trust my pain.
My pain recently didn’t feel that bad. But all the signs, including 65% work performance indicated otherwise.
I really need that physiatrist appointment to get scheduled.
In cheerier news, I recap some of this in a YouTube video I did yesterday while trying the “brown sugar cookie” latte and new egg bites at Dunkin.
If you want the PowerPoint version of my impressions:
The Brown Sugar Cookie flavor is boring. To me, it tasted a bit caramelized and like “toasted white chocolate” syrups. I miss peppermint for Christmas and pistachio for spring. These flavors now only come in peppermint mocha or pistachio mocha. I don’t like mocha in my coffee. Unless my friend and colleague Mary Barnes, now deceased, was the barista making a salted caramel mocha about eight years ago before everything came in salted caramel mocha. Starbucks always introduced it for the holiday season. But back to Dunkin and Brown Sugar Cookie, the teenager compares it to gingerbread. I didn’t get the spice of ginger.
The bacon cheddar egg bites… these were expensive but at 17 grams of protein and 280 calories they can substitute for a meal. But $4.99 for two miniature donut shaped eggs? Cute, definitely. Firm and crisp on the outside. Soft on the inside. Smoky, cheesy flavor. Again, boring. Strange mouth feel. But a very practical and utilitarian option.
Angel Ackerman 