I hope this weekend to partake in some fun activities and lighthearted blog posts, but I also need to do some administrative work for my publishing company, Parisian Phoenix Publishing.
My second novel in the Fashion and Fiends series, Courting Apparitions, releases officially November 29 (my co-founder’s birthday) and could possibly be available Black Friday. Like, damn, when did that happen?
My friend and fellow writer William Prystauk of the Kink Noir series and horror website Crash Palace Productions left me a truly wonderful review on Amazon and Google.
On everyday life and health front, I went to the chiropractor yesterday and like my doctor she approved of my new technique of changing work tables to try and even out my sides. I stopped at the pharmacy and picked up my prescription for muscle relaxer. I also made my last Purple Carrot meal in the fridge: mango glazed roasted vegetables with tahini butter.
Worked went mediocre/well. The night seemed long and boring and I felt like I was getting used to my body again after the chiropractor. I QCed at about 83%.
I came home and several cats were waiting for me— including Minerva, a sweet foster who started in our second foster litter of kittens, The Roman Pride.
I took a muscle relaxer to see how it impacted my pain and my morning stiffness. It didn’t make me loopy and I think it helped with my tossing and turning.
I only got six and a half hours of sleep last night, but still managed to meet up with the teenager my trainer Dan at Apex Training to lift some weights. I felt so much more limber after. The teenager easily did 105 on the barbell deadlift and 95 on the squat. I could lift the 105 but not execute the lift. My squat form is still adjusted for my limited range of motion in my lower body so I maxed out at 85 while the teen hardly had to put any effort into it.
We came home and shared some Little Caesars pizza as I was craving their “pizza and sticks” pie. We even shared with the dog.
This post will be a mishmash of the last 48 hours and will discuss some of the frustration of dealing with my cerebral palsy, life as Midnight Society comesto a close at the Stitch Fix Bizzy Hizzy, a brief mention of the new Wawa dinners and a thank you to the amazing teenager for her thoughtfulness in hiring a cleaner to help get the house under control.
The supply chain issues still create work shortages at the Bizzy Hizzy warehouse so as Midnight Society prepares for it’s change to day shift in December, some of us are only working about 20-25 hours a week.
I’m using the time to edit manuscripts and make more plans for Parisian Phoenix Publishing and deal with my mobility and pain issues.
The last few nights at work have been good (and last night was my one year anniversary)— I performed at 98% last night in QC folding those Stitch Fix parcels and tonight I think I surpassed 100%. But bending is still troublesome and what I believe are my quads burn the entire time I am standing.
These photos try to capture my one year pin.
So today was an emotional day. My sweet, amazing teenager hired a cleaner to deep clean the house. The cleaner did the upstairs yesterday and the downstairs today.
The house looks incredible.
And it was fun to interact with someone who wanted to help, loved our crazy animals and commented about how awesome my kid is.
I noticed early today that my X-rays had arrived in my St. Luke’s Hospital portal. I read them and they said my hips were fine, and the only findings on them (other than my new IUD and tampon) mentioned items in my spine.
But when the doctor’s office called at 2 p.m., he just wanted to ship me off to physical therapy. And I’m not sure that’s the whole answer. I work out. I have had physical therapy for my lumbar region already.
Two important questions physical therapy can’t answer:
1. How does this impact my ability to keep doing my job?
When I mentioned this to the person on the phone from my doctor’s office, she asked me what I wanted, mentioning that they could sign me out of work. I said no, I am looking for a more permanent answer than that.
2. How does my general crookedness factor in? The doctor’s office made this sound like no big deal, but I hurt. More often than not. So does my imperfect gait add more stress to this problem?
I’m going to talk to my trainer tomorrow, and my chiropractor Friday. I think there are more questions that need to be asked and I’m not sure what they are.
And in final ridiculous news… I tried a Wawa burger.
This is a post about Wednesday. It is now Friday, but I made these notes after my Wednesday night when I experienced a sense of piece and hope— I was in minimal pain and did 94% of my metrics in my home department at work, folding clothes.
The air was frigid with ice on the cars, but I was wearing the teenager’s letterman jacket (and I made the wise crack to my favorite security guard that it was not my jacket, she had left it in the car, and I know it must be really hard to believe that I was not in marching band.)
I knew the end of this week would be draining, even before they announced the elimination of our shift at the Stitch Fix warehouse as they transition from two shifts a day, five days a week to operations seven days a week. (As second shift workers, we get first choice of the shifts available, so the company is trying to accommodate preferences, but every shift starts before 7 a.m. so that sounds like torture.)
So Wednesday was dentist day.
I thought the teenager and I had appointments at 9:40, which meant retrieving the child from school at 9 a.m.
She made me an offer I could not refuse. If she peeled and quartered the apples our friend Photographer Joan of Plastiqueville brought so that I could make apple butter as I promised, could she just skip first period?
I said sure. That meant I could sleep until 8 a.m.
I think she later regretted her choice as she has still not finished.
Hopefully today I can use my voluntary time off to get this into jars.
And in true Angel fashion, at 8:45 a.m., I discovered our appointment is at 10:40, not 9:40.
The hygienist and dentist gave me a disappointed talking to about my teeth— apparently my middle of the night tooth brushing has been half-assed.
But no major issues.
So the day prior my physician has ordered x-rays of my spine, si joints and hips.
I thought with the shift change, the information in those scans was more important than ever. And there is a radiology office in the urgent care across the street from my dentist. I asked the teenager if we should stop.
My doctors office had recommended one of these smaller urgent cares as they might be less busy than the hospital or the central outpatient radiology office by the warehouse.
My gut said go there.
I didn’t listen.
Instead I went to the urgent care that my PCP’s office always recommends because it is close to my home and operated by the hospital network he works for. (The Lehigh Valley is in the middle of a hospital war— both St. Luke’s and Lehigh Valley Hospital buying up and building offices everywhere.)
(I watched Lehigh Valley build a hospital near the warehouse, one I believe they have been trying to build for a decade. It opened in July. When I drive by at midnight, it looks deserted.)
Anyway. We go to the urgent care by all the good food. The teenager has a book in the car. It is 11:40 and her next class starts at 12:30. I know the probability is we’re not going to make it, but I need these x-rays and her presence will make sure I don’t procrastinate.
I have been to this urgent care once before— my si joint had locked up and was seizing and neither my chiropractor nor my doctor could see me and I couldn’t even think through the pain.
The staff at this urgent care was lovely, but I waited more than 90 minutes, got told to take a hot bath in Epsom salts, ingest some ibuprofen and the best thing for me would be a massage. And I got a $200 out-of-pocket bill.
I picked this urgent care because the location is convenient and it’s in a higher middle class suburban neighborhood. But they are always understaffed and seems to be frequented by college students with no common sense and a certain element that I hate to classify as unsavory, but let’s just leave it as there was one poor man who needed to go to the ER, even I could see that, but he didn’t want to go.
The doctor was backlogged by 90 minutes so this seems like the normal wait time. I tried to slip out of the office politely but the office person (who was honestly coordinating a three-ring circus and remaining an angel despite it) wouldn’t have it. You see radiology is a different office. I was next in line.
The tech in the radiology room was a delight. I got all the x-rays I needed.
At work, a lot of people were congregating to discuss the upcoming changes. But at this point, I don’t understand the point of wasting time like that especially since things are still getting ironed out.
The Mirena seeks to be helping with my menstrual issues as cramps where they belong and the bleeding is significantly less.
As a writer and now a publisher, I often refer to my job at the Stitch Fix Bizzy Hizzy as part of the second shift (Midnight Society) as the “day job.”
And now, next month, the day job is really becoming a day job.
The head of our warehouse announced last night at 5 p.m. that second shift would be eliminated hopefully by December 5.
Second shift was a Covid-inspired experiment in the Stitch Fix universe and not every warehouse had one. I’m not going to say we were the first or the only, but we might have been. I joined the shift in November and it started when the warehouse reopened after the initial shut down.
We just earned a $1 shift differential a couple months ago.
The concept worked really well— a smaller, cross-trained team that could be moved to different needs in the warehouse to support day shift or function autonomously.
If day shift broke it, we fixed it. And I believe, and this is totally my opinion, that our flexibility allowed us to understand the entire operation and fostered a spirit of teamwork that achieved more than hitting individual metrics.
There is a distinct cultural difference between the two shifts, especially since we all know each other and move around so much.
So, here comes the interesting part, they are eliminating the second shift in favor of moving the warehouse to seven-days-a-week operations, just like our literal neighbors Chewy and Amazon. As the business grows in what the now call “Freestyle,” or people directly ordering what they want from custom-curated offerings based on the results of the algorithm (eliminating the stylist), Stitch Fix wants to be able to ship out orders so quickly they arrive in a day or two.
The Lehigh Valley is conveniently located within one to two shipping days of most of the country. I was aware of this because of my work with anti-human trafficking nonprofit ASPIRE to Autonomy.
I commend the company for adapting to the needs and desires of the marketplace especially since supply chain issues, the pandemic at large and internet retail remains a “Wild Wild West” landscape.
But this… is hard to digest.
Most of us have our reasons for working second shift and this complicates our lives. Supervisors were passing out information on child care resources and they told us that we would be emailed paperwork to rank our preferences for what day shift we want to join.
During the coming days, our shift supervisors will be pulling us aside to discuss our individual transitions. And we were told we would have first pick of the new shifts. And it almost sounded like preferential treatment in work centers, too.
The choices are:
Traditional day shift: 6 am to 2:30 pm or 6:30 am to 3 pm Monday through Friday
The four tens option: 6:30 am to 5 pm Sunday through Wednesday or Wednesday through Saturday.
I am leaning toward option 2, Wednesday through Saturday. Many of my friends have already expressed concern that I can’t physically handle ten hour days. I have done it before during mandatory overtime.
What’s the difference? Once pain and difficulty start, what’s the difference between eight hours and ten? I believe, if I can physically complete the ten hours, the extra day off would actually give my body more rest time. But perhaps I am naive.
If I do the traditional work week, I have to give up my personal training sessions, which would also have a negative impact on my health. I also would have five days where the animals in my house are left unattended for long stretches. The weekend shift lowers this to three days.
If I work Sunday through Wednesday, I can still hit the gym Tuesday and Saturday. And I would be available for FURR related events on Saturday. I can also keep a regular Friday chiropractor appointment.
My medical care will get more complicated— because even though Stitch Fix would still allow me to go, I will have to find minimally disruptive appointments. For example, I have a doctor appointment every morning this week and I need a pile of x-rays.
I’m going to have to go to bed 4-5 hours earlier than I’m used to, and get up at 5 a.m. That sounds brutal.
And I’m no longer going to be able to drive the teenager to work.
So even though a simple move, it’s really complicated. And a hard choice.
It’s is almost 3:30 p.m. on a crisp autumn Friday afternoon. I normally would be standing in front of the daily work schedule at the warehouse, but today they offered us voluntary time off. And my body needs it.
I had a chiropractor appointment today, about ten days after my last one. I described my symptoms as a lot of back pain that made basic movements like stretching in front of me to move a pile of clothes from one spot to another very uncomfortable, to my left leg feeling immobile like a tree trunk while my right was very flexible but weak and prone to discomfort.
And she noted that my left hip was stiff and locked in a position out of alignment. And she concurs with my assessment that it’s time to ask my doctor for some x-rays.
She asked what I was doing this weekend as she moved my bones around and I answered I had some work to do for my publishing company and that I have to drop a copy of my novel off at the Mary Meuser Memorial Library, my local public library.
And she thought I meant an overdue library book.
So, I corrected her.
And then she and her staff, the three of them, engaged me in a lively conversation about my book as the bought copies.
I did stop at the library. I did give them a copy. The teenager is appearing in the Wilson Centennial/Halloween parade with the library staff as the library mouse.
Last night, I had an interesting text message from a former colleague who left my last place of employment around the same time the man who hired me also left. She apparently has landed in a much better place, two years later, at a similar nonprofit with a larger service area. She texted me as I was pulling into the parking lot at the Hizzy and asked me if I would consider a position in her office.
I sent her the resume I had on my phone and she talked to her boss on my behalf.
Because I was “awesome” and “under appreciated” at my last nonprofit position.
Regardless of if or when this goes anywhere, it’s always uplifting to see that someone acknowledges who you are and what you have been through.
Another thing that can be frustrating or uplifting, our dog, F. Bean Barker, the black lab, pit bull and mastiff mix
We left work early last night, after shipping about 1900 men’s fixes. I have this equation I work in my head. On nights when they offer us VTO (voluntary time off), I survey the valleys of people doing my job. I count them roughly, using my journalist-surveying the crowd skills, and then I estimate, based on who I see and their skill levels, how many fixes I think we will be able to ship an hour. Then, when the leads call out our progress announcing how many we have shipped or how many we have left, I do the math in my head.
And last night, when they suggested that we could VTO after shipping 1840 fixes, I did my calculation (and gave more extra time since most of us and very inexperienced in men’s fixues) and thought we would be done by 9:30. The leads kept suggesting about 10 p.m. But I trusted my gut. And sure enough, we got the call of VTO at 9:20.
Also today, I have been editing and doing projects for Parisian Phoenix with breaks when my eyes hurt. I use those breaks to clean, because the teenager has booked a consultation with a cleaning lady for Monday. Her idea is if we have someone help me with the vacuuming, dusting, floors, nose-printed windows, and bathroom maintenance that maybe it would be easier for me to survive my bad days and get ahead on so many projects we have.
I did some furniture rearranging and my floor scrubbing and a whole lot of laundry, including I finally took the time to empty the chest on our sun porch and move the “winter things” into the hope chest we brought downstairs to sit under the winter coats on their hooks more than a year ago.
Oz, one of our personal cats, is on my lap while I work today.
After I update my blog and the Parisian Phoenix website with the story of how I accidentally started a podcast, my next task will be to explore the handwritten manuscript that one of our authors prepared for me. I’ve been looking forward to her tale for quite some time, but I don’t have the best typing skills so I have been saving it for a day when I have a nice block of uninterrupted time.
And then, I will rest by folding laundry. And when the teenager returns home from her waitressing gig, we will have tacos for dinner.
Tomorrow FIVE of our Feline Urban Rescue and Rehab fosters are headed to Petsmart for the adoption meet and greet. These babies need homes!
We signed up: Khloe (a four or so year old female grey torbie), Slim Shady and Eminem (the bestest, sweetest kittens ever, Shady is a black female and Em is a grey tabby with white feet, male) and Mars and Minerva, the tuxedo siblings who have been in foster for more than a year.
This is another in a series of posts about trying to learn about my cerebral palsy and improve life in my body in general.
As sometimes happen, I woke in pain. I took two Tylenol PM last night so the pain didn’t keep me awake though my cat kept trying to intimidate one of my fosters so that made the six hours of sleep I got rather restless.
I woke to an alarm at shortly after 8 a.m. as I had to be at a doctor’s appointment at 10:05ish and the office is 20 minutes away.
Today was the rescheduled appointment to get my Mirena IUD that will hopefully reduce my heavy menstrual bleeding and my back pain from menstrual cramps. I had another new-to-me doctor today, and this one had an amazing sense of humor.
She was also the first doctor to ask me, upon hearing I had cerebral palsy, if there was anything she needed to do or be aware of to help me. In my case, the answer is no. But if I had worse issues with my flexibility and lower limbs, this would be a good question.
This is my third IUD, although my first Mirena. So nothing unexpected happened during insertion.
There was a pinch here and there and the doctor told me to take ibuprofen for the initial cramping. And to be prepared for a period that might be weird for the next few months. Every woman reacts differently but I may see my periods lighten or even skip cycles.
I did experience some light cramping and spotting but nothing to require OTC painkillers.
But, once I got to work, my right leg seemed to be impossible to control with my quad and knee burning. My ankles also started to burn. My lower back just throbbed, regardless of whether I was twisting or standing still.
By the end of the night I struggled to reach forward or to lift the pile of clothes.
I only QCed 92 fixes. That’s almost 71% of goal. Now granted tonight we were in the men’s Hizzy for the first time ever. It took me 4.5 minutes to do fixes that in women’s takes less than 3.
And they have such nicely organized work stations with drawers.
While listening to my first podcast of the night— 60 songs that explain the 90s— i discovered that Weird Al donated the profits from “Achy Breaky Song” to the cerebral palsy foundation.
My British colleague asked why I’m not on disability. That made me wonder how bad I must look if she says that to me.
In good news, let me regale you as I drink my last pins colada lemonade gin cocktail, the teenager is very excited about the new soap dispenser she bought.
I did a thing and did a soft launch on a Parisian Phoenix podcast on Spotify. I thought my blind friend, Nancy, would like it.
Today I had a great session at the gym, working with Dan at Apex Training. Dan wanted to isolate my right leg and try to alleviate some of the stiffness and difficulty I have had recently.
I felt amazing while working out with Dan, but as soon as I left the gym for my walk home, my troubles returned.
When I arrived at work, my supervisor stopped by. I told her it remained to be seen how the night would go. So I after the first two hours, I was a little behind. By meal, I was at 61– I should have been at 65. That’s not horrible but my numbers were in decline.
So I mentioned it to a lead.
And started the second half of the night with a refix cart.
This allowed me to pack my boxes with less twisting, and I was optimistic. I had gone into the lavatory and covered my back and leg with the CBD cream.
When I was working with the refix cart, my times improved, but the QC support staff starting bringing me regular carts. A lead had told me where to find more refixes, but what is the point of trying to improve my time and then having to load my own cart?
So I did the regular carts.
The pain returned 10 times over as the wonderful Charlotte’sWeb Cream wore off. It seems to last about two hours.
After what I experienced tonight, I feel like I had a glimpse inside an addict’s mind.
When the cream lost its potency, the pain was insane and left me crying at my station. I wanted it to stop. I imagined reapplying the cream to relieve my pain.
Is that what it’s like to need a fix?
I didn’t mean to take this photo, but it’s pretty.
Stitch Fix Bizzy Hizzy at midnight
When I got home, I showered and applied CBD Medic Arthritis and poured myself a cocktail. That stuff is way stronger than the other cream.
A mish mash of disability related updates related tomy life with cerebral palsy
I’m somewhere around week seven with my weight training with Apex Training and dreaming of a day when my stiff limbs might become those of a Paralympic powerlifting. I want to be a barbell athlete.
I missed Saturday’s session— I normally train 45 minutes on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. But I picked up an overtime shift at the Stitch Fix Bizzy Hizzy.
I told Dan, my very talented and diligent trainer, that I would do a home workout over the weekend. I did not. And the lack of long hours and the mix of chores and resting I did over the weekend meant that I was not tired nor was I sore for Tuesday’s workout.
And he says he went easy on me, but he had me doing incline bench presses with 25 pound dumbbells. Now, for comparison, about 4-5 years ago when I was lean and strong, I was just ready to make the jump to 25 pound dumbbells but I couldn’t afford to buy them.
That’s when the teenager and I joined Planet Fitness, which lasted until the pandemic. Almost two years.
Yesterday was upper body day at the gym. That’s probably a good thing as my premenstrual hormones left me so stiff today I couldn’t bend at the waist or walk well. It also might have been impacted by the severe thunderstorm we had.
But somehow I hit 129 in QC at work. 130 is goal. At 11:41 p.m. my supervisor stopped by for an observation. I told her I almost called out but I knew she had to see me on a bad day. But when I started folding the clothes, I hit 35 in the first two hours (goal would be 32.5). But then I slipped and only got to 64 by lunch (goal is 65).
By third break I was at 97, which is shockingly on point. And at 11:41, she rolls up with her laptop. I’m both relieved and terrified.
She needs to see my struggle.
The cart I was working in had 3 refixes— out of 8. I don’t know why they call them refixes. They are fixes that are messed up and need fixing. So I guess the fixes need to be fixed again.
It was arduous. I was tired, sore and stiff. I had two damaged items of clothing and I wondered if she would think I damaged them. (Yes, I know I am insecure. My therapist says I “sell [myself] short].”)
I QC’ed in my observation at a rate of 115%.
And my boss had a suggestion to alleviate my struggle.
When I hurt I need to ask for refix carts. Those are the fixes coming out of the refix department once they are corrected. They come boxed on top of the cart so I don’t need to bend to get them.
They really do want to help.
And finally…
A few weeks ago, I asked the teen how her dad’s arthritis was. He has a club hand, so his left hand does most of his daily tasks. As a result, he has bad arthritis between his thumb, wrist and forefinger.
Turns out, his mother gave him Charlotte’s Web CBD cream and he swears by it. So I ordered some. And I ordered the CBD MedicArthritis Cream as well.
They arrived today. So I took a shower, suffered through the contorting needed to shave my legs, and upon return to my room, I slathered the Charlotte’s Web cream on the knot in my back. The relief was instant, and I don’t want to think it had anything to do with the gin and limoncello cocktail I am drinking.
More details to come on the creams but it is so nice to go to bed without pain. And I think the knot in my back is loose. But I also must remind you—cocktail.
This particular blog post will touch on brief updates of multiple areas of my life.
1. My new phone: The refurbished iPhone Xs sent to be my Square Trade has developed a green line in the display. I went to report it and their website is down for maintenance.
2. The laundry room project: The teenager has selected a color with the help of her grandmother, polka dot skirt.
3. Hungryroot and Purple Carrot: Yesterday’s meal kit was Purple Carrot’s Palestinian Spiced Peppers with Crispy Seitan and Tomato Caper Relish and Lemon Dill Rice. We also cooked the Chicken Bruschetta Burgers from Hungryroot. Everything was amazing.
4. Work and/or Disability: starting Thursday night my body was stiff and my right leg is giving me so much trouble. It appears to be the perfect blend of weather (tropical storms), hormones (ovulation) and disability (cerebral palsy). I was very uncomfortable.
But my numbers at the Stitch Fix Bizzy Hizzy have been consistently decent— I QC’ed 46 fixes from 3:30 to 6:30ish, and then picked an M cart in 20 minutes before clocking out at 7:05. The night prior I was on “mailer machine” (a folding machine that operates with a lot of compressed air) that they call creased lightning.
5. Foster Cats: someone expressed interest in Louise. Here’s a video of her last night: Louise
FURR LouiseFURR KhloeFURR Shady
6. The Gym (Apex Training): I did my first one plate barbell deadlift. I’ve always wanted to do barbell lifts. So far I’ve done bench press and deadlifts. Today I did four sets: one of three so my trainer could evaluate the weight of the lift, a set of five, another of eight, and a final of five.
He didn’t tell me how much weight that was— but my research from Mr. Google says the bar is 45 pounds and the plates are 20 kg. That together it’s 135 pounds?
Next, let’s briefly do a Purple Carrot Update. Today I prepped the matcha overnight oats and made the ramen bowl. (Video of matcha prep here.)
The teenager vetoed the homemade miso broth and fresh ramen.
I had the leftover black pepper tofu for dinner and it was soooooooo good, even leftover.
And most Purple Carrot meals take 30 minutes to prepare, which in my kitchen has been translating to 40 minutes. Much better than the cooking marathon caused when a Hello Fresh box comes.
But now to the Bizzy Hizzy. I finally learned the “mailer machine.” It’s a folding machine. We used it to fold the postal service priority mailers that go in each fix.
We had trouble getting the machine to work— so we didn’t really get started until after first break. We folded 4401 mailers.
Basically we unpack the mailers, sort them so they are less likely to jam the machine, and feed/empty the machine. There is a zen to lining up the mailers on the rolling machine, fanning them and making sure they don’t curl.
I was sent to the mailer machine as part of Stitch Fix’s quest to know what tasks I perform best. I perform regularly at 96% in QC but unfortunately when I have bad day that plummets to 85-90%. They raised the pick goal so I only do 75% of that. Apparently I have shown both potential and inconsistency in inbound processing and returns. I apparently tanked in style carding (66%) which I would like to believe was a fluke but maybe not. And a shocking 29% in NAP binning. It was shoes. And it was very painful.
I’m told they want everyone to have two work centers they can perform 100%.
So now I’m at the mailer machine.
If I’m honest with you, and it is very hard for me to say this in public, what I hear is: “You’re not good enough for us, so since you suck at everything, let’s stick you on this machine back in the corner.”
I feel threatened. And like a failure.
And that is not what they said. At all.
But I have a disability that makes me insecure and makes me feel inferior, unworthy. And certain childhood traumas leave me feeling unwanted, and as if I am a burden to everyone.
So I am being honest. For one reason. In case someone else is fighting a similar battle and needs to know he/she/they are not alone.
Angel Ackerman 