Not The Matrix. As in the movies. The absence management company.
I have an intermittent FMLA leave that I use when my body can’t tolerate my job. I thought, after having two different doctors fill it out at least three times (yes, I lost count) that I was approved for 40 hours a month of leave. Now, not understanding that is probably my fault.
But the curt paper pusher that told me I had 15 days to submit new paperwork could have been more patient. Apparently, my leave only entitles me to ONE episode per month of UP TO 40 hours. I called out sick in mid July and left work ninety minutes early today– so that 9.5 hours is not allowed because it’s in two episodes not one.
This is the type of bullshit one has to deal with when you try to advocate for yourself in an able-bodied world.
My hip has been inflamed– at least that’s what my darling chiropractor says, I say it feels crooked and like I’m dragging around a tree trunk– for several days now and getting progressively worse. So when my numbers slipped down to 97% today I tapped out, in part because of discomfort but also because the discomfort was causing me to fall behind and if I fall behind I will be penalized.
And the concern becomes: if I end up “not fully performing” in my end days, will I lose my severance?
But these are all my thoughts at the end of the day. At the beginning of the day I had to release my cat Fog from a crate and package a fecal sample for the vet. He has worms. I know it. I see it. As a cat rescue worker, I had the first medicine of defense, Pyrantel, but that didn’t work so he might have a tapeworm (that comes from ingesting a flea) and that requires Drontal which I don’t have. I think Touch of Grey (one of the two remaining fosters) might have worms, too.
Southern Candy didn’t come to work today for her own health reasons which had a friend and I ready to send out search and rescue dogs.
And Gayle, my friend and the art director, had eye surgery today which was pretty serious stuff but she texted that she can see so all is well so far.
Meanwhile, my neurologist responded to a message I had sent during her vacation and now she wants me to go for a urine test– but no one seems to know where I can go. And I don’t have time to go. So, if I have to go for a urine test, I thought I’d check with my doctor and see if I need other tests before my upcoming physical. They ended up ordering a urine test because the neurologist didn’t yet. But they missed the part about the other tests.
Now we’re all confused.
My neurologist is afraid I have some sort of UTI, which I think I’ve only had one of those in my entire almost-fifty-year life and I remember pain being part of that equation. Why they think I might have a UTI contributing to my issues I don’t know.
But there’s just too many things I need to figure out and organize. And I’m mentally and physically exhausted by it all.
The questions become:
Why must organizing care be so complicated?
Why do employers make health-related issues such a hoop-jumping process?
I last checked in with this blog on Monday, December 12. Today is Friday. I have diplegic spastic cerebral palsy and my workplace recently changed the way they measure our performance. The company switched from a weekly average to a firm daily number. I work in a warehouse folding clothes, and I’ve been there more than two years. Why do I do physical work when I have a disability, skills/talents and plenty of higher education?
Because I’m tired of emotional stress and the politics in a white collar office environment. I’m tired of being underappreciated, never getting credit for the good stuff I’ve done, and I’m tired of my creative, intellectual energy benefiting some entity other than myself.
I also love the mindlessness of my current work, listening to podcasts and brainstorming my own projects during the day, and my team. Working in a warehouse environment has brought together a diverse mix of people that I wouldn’t get to interact with otherwise. And I feel like this particular company, this warehouse and my supervisor and team give people opportunity and respect when other people/companies wouldn’t.
I have been struggling with my body for about a year. And my employer has never given me any trouble due to my disability. But, I also know that I will fail in this new metric system. So I applied for workplace accommodations and intermittent FMLA leave.
The leave request ran into some complications when the fax never seemed to make it to the absence management company. On Monday I contacted my neurologist to ask if they could fax it again.
On Tuesday, I took all-day VTO and ended up getting some frustrating communication from one of my volunteer activities. The kind of stern communication that feels like a betrayal and makes you reevaluate some relationships and commitments. I spent most of Tuesday sleeping and watching Hoarders. Because nothing makes you feel more psychologically grounded than seeing the homes in Hoarders.
The neurologist’s office followed up with me on Wednesday. I contacted the claims examiner via email to update them, and it was Wednesday afternoon when I received an email with the document and uploaded it to the claims management company.
This was the same day my supervisors at work asked me to submit the accommodation form I had given them to my claims examiner. Which I happened to have a scan of that document on my phone so I did.
I received word today that my intermittent FMLA leave was approved.
As for accommodations, Wednesday a friend from my roster saw to it that I got some work that was easy for me. By my calculations I hit 101%. But I was told I hit 111% because I receive extra non-production time for talking with people about my accommodations.
Before we left on Wednesday, one of the kind people from the original day shift brought me some of the work that was already boxed for me to set at my station for the morning. I also took the time to box the items from the bottom of my previous cart and get that ready. But when I returned to work Thursday morning, someone had taken my nicely packaged work.
It also happened to be the one year anniversary of my father’s death and I was at work when I got the call that I needed to come to the hospital and say goodbye. So, my emotions are on edge because of that, my anxiety is acting up because of the issues with my leave and my accommodations and the other things in my personal life.
My friend from my roster tried to get me pre-packaged work. I took VTO at 11:30 and I thought I hit 105%. The official number was 103%. I would estimate that half my work was the stuff that is easier for me. Thanks to that friend on my roster.
Today I again took VTO, this time at noon. I packed 89 fixes, by the skin of my teeth, which should be 100%. Only 24 of those were prepackaged. So less than 30%. I received more troubling news about three-and-a-half hours into my shift that made me realize that no one that could be considered my family has invited me for Christmas. I’m 100% okay with being alone, and Christmas usually ends with me in a panic attack, but I didn’t anticipate that suddenly at 47-years-old my daughter would be my only family.
My toe has been feeling much better, but I’ve only worked part-time this week. But I think the gel protector ring is helping tremendously. No nerve pain. But my right leg definitely feels turned in and clunky.
I think my life has been challenged on every front recently. The nice thing about such challenges is that they can inspire new beginnings and allow you to mold what you want out of life and stop living to other people’s expectations.
It is 6:45 a.m. I went to bed around 11 p.m. last night, after a long conversation with an old friend whom I haven’t had a chance to truly connect with for years (and while we “caught up” last night as if no time had passed, it didn’t feel like the happy reconnection I thought it would), and the dog woke me up at 5 a.m.
At 6:15 a.m., after loading the dishwasher and starting laundry and trying to snuggle dog into a nap with me on the couch, I finally made coffee figuring sleep would not return.
Now, the dog is gently snoring on the other couch.
I definitely would prefer to be a cat versus a dog. The dog seems an anxious and needy creature, where the cat has an attitude and most of them act like they have their shit together.
I haven’t written much this week because my physical and emotional struggles have left me in a survival mode, and upcoming changes at work have me concerned for my long-term success at mastering my cerebral palsy and achieving work/life balance that includes leading Parisian Phoenix Publishing.
And I’m okay with these struggles, they mean I’m human and I’m alive. And I guess I want other people to know that in an age where we “social media” ourselves to death and we’re exposed to worldwide turmoil and glamour, that I’m here with you in the trenches, surviving.
So, Wednesday turned out to be a hard day. We received the official word that starting some time in December, our performance metrics will be judged daily instead of by their weekly average. And that we can miss the daily minimum two days a month. I had already turned up to work crying because of stress in my everyday life. (Which only my friend in the parking lot saw. Speaking of my friend in the parking lot… she needs a nickname as she will play a larger roll in this blog post and hopefully appear more. I think I shall call her Southern Candy, because her roots are in the Southern United States and she likes to pass out hard candy.)
Now, after my neurologist/physiatrist appointment on November 9, (see Is it Time for Botox), I filed for Intermittent Leave from work which would allow me job protection if my work missed increases due to complications from my disability or more doctor’s appointments. I now have a lot of doctor’s appointments. With recent changes at work, I seem to have triggered a couple neuromas in my right foot, which my podiatrist shot with cortisone (See The Stabby Toe and the Challenging Gait), and unbeknownst to me, as I had never had cortisone to me, this transformed my good leg into a second bad leg.
It absolutely removed all my pain, but — and this is probably why my podiatrist asked when I planned on returning to work and seemed satisfied that “tomorrow” would give me adequate time to recover– it made it impossible to control and rely on my right leg as I typically do. BUT I can also say it made me acutely aware of how I use my legs and unfairly make my right leg carry more than its share of the movement burden which is why my right hip has issues.
My left leg “scissors” causing my left knee to pretty much cross in front of my right leg when I walk (and yes, that is as awkward as it sounds) but now my right foot drags, causing my toes to curl under my foot. I have compensated for this change in walking pattern by buying cowboy boots. Not real ones, but ones we sell at work: the Kassy boot by DV by Dolce Vita. (Unboxing on YouTube here.) They allow me to hear my walk, feel my foot, and not step on my toes.
At our weekly meeting, our supervisors announce the metric change. I understand their logic. They plan workloads daily so they should measure results daily, simply put. And as this change rolls out, I’m confident the company will “do the right thing” in implementing it. I’ve been there two years, so they have investment in me as I have investment in them.
On my good days, I average 101% to 103%. But on my bad days, without some extra support that minimizes my physical struggle, I average 95%. So with the weekly average system, I’m still a “fully performing” employee. On a really bad day, which happens ironically about once or twice a month as their new system will allow, I give everything I can and sometimes only hit 85%.
Now, unlike some of my colleagues, I am also on a work roster that has changed shifts twice in the last calendar year. Yes, I have had three different work schedules in the last year: Monday to Friday, 3:30 p.m. to midnight; then Sunday to Wednesday, 6:30 a.m. to 5 p.m.; and Monday to Friday, 6:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. All very different.
Add a neurological condition to that and it’s hard to adapt. When they offered Voluntary Time Off on Wednesday, allowing us to leave three hours early, I took it. My emotional state would best be labeled as frazzled and my right hamstring had started bothering me, probably because it felt like my right leg was a useless tree trunk.
Here is the happy part. The kindness part. The part where the light shines from one person to another. Thursday morning, I get a text from Southern Candy at 5 a.m. “Stop by my car when you get to work.”
She gave me a cat figurine. A cat in frilly dress with pink bloomers, staring into a goldfish bowl that even included a goldfish.
“I know you had a hard day yesterday, and it made me think of you.”
I brought it home and placed it on one of my Parisian Phoenix bookshelves. A place I can see from my workspace at the table and/or when I’m having dinner.
To skip ahead, I’ve been thinking it’s time to record and place a request for permanent accommodations at work. By Friday morning, when one of my colleagues said he’d like to help me out with the easier work but too many people had doctor’s notes, I decided to email my supervisor. So he and I now will try to make that happen. Around the same time, my neurologist’s office called to see if they could move my December 6 appointment to December 9. The times they offered overlap with a preexisting doctor’s appointment I have.
And my intermittent leave needs to be certified by December 9. I returned their call, expressed my regret that those appointments would not work, and asked the person on the phone to please leave a message for the doctor and her nurse that my employer had sent paperwork and that I would have more paperwork and that I would gladly pay any associated fees.
I also wanted to mention I am trying to eliminate inflammatory foods from my diet, but that can wait until I see her. I am wondering if I should request to work with a dietician and get a new set of bloodwork to check not only the standards like iron and cholesterol but also vitamins like B12.
I’ve done really well not stress eating in the ten days since I’ve seen her, eating vegetarian baked beans at work yesterday while my colleagues ate piping hot pizza. My weight is slowly dropping.
I’ve eaten no junk food in the break room, choosing fruit leather and yogurt over Cool Ranch Doritos and fancy fruit snacks. I even reduced my caffeine intake. Yesterday for dinner I made thick egg sandwiches with eggplant, mozzarella and extra sharp cheddar on my favorite multigrain buns and a little chipotle mayo and avocado hot sauce. One for dinner and two to go in the freezer for work lunches this week.
Although I know my perceptions are faulty, I feel like my only success this week has been with Andrew at Apex Training. I got my gym sweatshirt, and the dog immediately jumped on me and coated it with mud so I don’t have a decent selfie… yet. But these guys at the gym have been a lifesaver. Andrew works so hard to meet my needs and come up with innovative exercises to challenge me and train my muscles to cooperate. I did a seated shoulder press this week with 30 lb dumbbells, which ignited my inner strength as my lower body becomes more useless.
I discussed my hamstring troubles and we did some balance exercise yesterday. Andrew thought I was going to stand on the balance trainer and hold a weight on one side to create instability in my stance. Then, he saw me try to stand on the ball. And we opted to practice that first.
Finally, I asked The Teenager to check on Foster Kittens Jean-Paul Sartre and Giorgio in their habitat at Petsmart. I will see them today but it brought my heart joy to see that they are doing fine.
So, if you’re a friend of mine or a regular here, you know that I have asked my employer, Stitch Fix, for a short-term disability/ FMLA leave to deal with my ruptured tendon (mallet or baseball finger) and its impact on my right hip.
This means I’ve made a commitment to work with my family doctor, my chiropractor (Nicole Jensen at Back in Line Chiropractic and Wellness Center) and Andrew, my personal trainer at Apex Training.
And to keep my hands warm and not use my finger.
Yesterday, I saw Nicole and we discussed the state of my body and the trade-off I seem to be making— working in the Bizzy Hizzy warehouse keeps me active but causes pain, but not being in a physical job makes me stiff and makes it difficult to move, even when I take the same amount of steps I do at work.
Andrew and I are working on strength, mobility, stability and range of motion.
I had lunch with my mother yesterday, who upon her return home had her dog pass away.
In the afternoon, I spoke with my disability claims examiner and gathered paperwork for her. My eligibility confirmation came through this morning, and I think the actual leave is just a matter of paperwork now.
But paperwork sure is sucking the life out of me right now.
So this morning when the weather looked sunny and conducive to a perfect spring day, Nan and I decided to surprise the teenager and retrieve her hearing aids from the ear doctor. Then, we could grab some cold beverages and visit Bethlehem’s Monocacy Park.
The park is quiet, easy to navigate and has a creek. The birds, geese and fishermen would offer entertainment for Nan, as between the water and the animals there would be nature to hear as well as see.
It was a fantastic way to bring some stress-free moments into running errands.
After a modified upper body workout with Andrew, Joan stopped by and brought me an early birthday gift from the residents of Plastiqueville.
A hat!!!!
The hat was not for me but for my mallet finger.
And for dinner, the teenager made Hungryroot meatballs and cauliflower linguine. We used ShopRite tomato and basil pasta sauce. It turned out so lovely I had to make a slice of butter bread to sop up the sauce.
Angel Ackerman 