“I inadvertently picked up on a kind of disability code that was common then: minimize the impact, hide it, sweep it aside as a mere personal detail – and get on with your life. This, I see now, was the opposite of disability pride.“
It is July 2023, and it’s Disability Pride month. As an ally, and a caregiver, and a person with my own disabilities I know that there are nuances to what pride means to the disabled community; but the word “disability” is an intentionally broad and inclusive term for us to gather under.
Disability Pride is about breaking down the shame and stigma that still abound in our homes, communities and at work. It is about being seen, it is about speaking up, it is for challenging institutional biases. It is a movement of porting conversations, and policies, and law, and architecture to recognize that we all contribute uniquely, that we engage and communicate uniquely, that we access things differently.
As an ally, I want to encourage you to recognize how different a view of the world is for someone who is disabled. Perspective is gained by engaging, by listening, and by learning. It’s a journey that I’m on too and I’m asking you to share it with me.
Learn more. Here are some book and film references (sorted by year of publication):
This is my mother Mary Louise Chapin, a graduate of Drew University and American University, a Political Science major who worked at the Moroccan Embassy in DC. She followed her Forester husband to Alaska with 6 kids in tow. She spoke French, she painted, she was a devoted wife and mother.
Why she chose this second life with us I don’t understand. Her world was very, very different after marrying my father. They travelled together to Maine, Utah, Wisconsin, Minnesota before settling in Alaska. All of the moves were his university & Forest Service opportunities.
My dad always said that he wanted to go where there were no sidewalks. He was a forester, a trapper, a hunter. He lived for the outdoors. She was a Methodist, an artist, the daughter of a teacher and an engineer. She grew up singing on local television shows.
She grew up in small town in the Berkshires as a Methodist, where she attended their local church each week. As the family moved she would scout out the local churches and find something akin to her upbringing. In Minnesota we lived in government housing on the Chippewa Indian Reservation, and she would drive out to Bemidji to attend a Lutheran church. In 1976 we moved to Petersburg, Alaska – a small fishing village on Mitkof Island, where she found a Lutheran congregation but it wasn’t a fit. A good friend shared her Baháʼí faith with us before we settled on the Assembly of God – I think mainly because of their song services. She missed being part of a congregation and she really loved to sing.
In 1980 we had moved back to the mainland and were living in Wasilla, Alaska when she began having vision problems and trouble walking. It took several months of progressively worsening symptoms for the doctors to diagnose her with Multiple Sclerosis. It was an aggressive, rapid onset. I was 12 at the time.
In 1981 she had two seizures, one while driving my younger brother to his cub scouts meeting. He was able to steer the car into a ditch to stop the car while she was seizing. She lost her license and was not able to drive after that. But her symptoms were getting worse anyway.
It was then that we started caring for my mom. We would help her bathe and dress. We would carry her up and down the stairs. We made meals and helped her eat when her hands were too shaky. There was a lot of talking, a lot of singing, a lot of calls to her family back home.
I think my dad was overwhelmed by everything. He was stressed at home, he was angry a lot. We had a list of chores and an expectation that it was all done when he came back. But he was mostly gone. He travelled an hour to work every day, and would leave a 4AM. He wouldn’t arrive home until 6PM most days. His weekends were spent away, outdoors.
So the older kids would get everyone up, dressed and fed and sent to school. Wanda – the pastor’s daughter from our local Assembly of God church – would come to be with mom when we went to school. And we’d come home and take care of mom again. Chores. Dinner. Homework.
At some point we started going to different churches again. Recommendations for faith healing drove us around a bit, with visits to churches where congregants faked seizures or played with snakes as they were (apparently) visited by the holy spirit. They would lay hands on my mother and claim that if she only renounced sin and truly accepted Jesus in her heart, she would be healed. A minister at one of the churches told me I had the patience of Job. I have never wanted to punch someone in the face more than that time.
Without a regular church, we turned to Jim and Tammy Faye on PTL, Jerry Falwell, and Robert Schuller’s Hour of Power from his Crystal Cathedral. My mom took a lot of pleasure calling their hotlines to talk about her troubles, and they always ended the calls with pleas for us to send money, to which she felt obliged. But we didn’t have any money. But you know, send $10 now and be blessed tenfold.
The only person who turned into a hero for me was Richard Simmons. My mom loved his show and would always want to watch and exercise with him, sitting in her wheelchair and enthusiastically pumping her arms. We heard on the radio that he was coming up to Anchorage, Alaska for an event. He was promoting his show the day before the event, and we were able to make ‘that’ call into the radio station. He talked to my mom and offered to come pick her up from Wasilla so that she could attend the event. The next day he sent out a limo from Anchorage to pick her up, and she was able to spend some time with him in his dressing room before the event. She was placed in front for the show, and she was absolutely thrilled. It was one of the absolute best memories that she had after her diagnosis. I was only 15 at the time, but it’s also one of my favorite memories of her. He earned a very special place for the kindness and generosity that he showed to her that will not be lost.
Most of her friends had disappeared after her diagnosis, and it was incredibly lonely and hard for her. She was enthusiastic to meet him and adored that day so much, and for me that meant a lot. He was genuine. He was exactly who he was, and he was that glimmer of light, of hope, of enthusiasm, when she so desperately needed something.
I remember social workers stopping by every now and then to check on us. There were always reports that we weren’t being taken care of. We were terrified of being split apart & placed in foster care. My dad would show them a freezer full of frozen game meat and say we weren’t hungry. We had cases of creamed corn, french-cut string beans, powdered milk from sales at the store. The case worker would talk to the kids separately, but we already knew what to say.
My older sister had been showing some signs of mental illness, and began experiencing full psychosis. My older brother and sister were constantly fighting. We didn’t know what it was at the time, but it was getting so difficult. There was no-one to talk to, we just had each other.
At one point I was walking home and saw my two little sisters running down the road crying. They said that my sister was killing my mom. We ran back to the house and found my sister poised with her fist up over my mother, who was on the dining room floor, bleeding and trying to protect herself.
I screamed “what are you doing!?!” and got between them. My older sister was enraged. She went upstairs, grabbed some things and left. It was the last time we would see her. She left the state and disappeared for a while. Years, actually.
I graduated in 1985. I took care of my mom and younger sisters, while my brothers would go out hunting and trapping with my dad. He called me “city boy”. It was years later that he told me an agreement with my mom about the first son being “his” and that I would be mom’s.
When my younger brother was born, he became my Dad’s second son. Those three did everything together. I was left out because I was Mary’s… the kid who would play violin, learn French, go to college. None of that happened. I took care of the family.
If a school note needed to be written, I would write it. If someone needed help with homework, I would be there. If a meal was cooked, it was generally me. I took care of mom, I took care of the kids.
On January 30, 1987 my mom was admitted to Our Lady of Compassion permanent care facility. My father was able to get a divorce processed that would protect his income so that she could move independently to receive care as a ward of the state.
She would live there until she passed in 2004. 17 years. I left Alaska in 1987 to run away from my family. My dad said that I would “come crawling back” when I left. My younger sisters stole the new clothes I had purchased for myself before my departure.
I only saw my mom once after that, to visit with my wife and newborn son. I wept like a baby when I saw her. She didn’t recognize us, but she held my son in her lap.
When she died, I wept again. It was of profound sadness. It was of relief. It was for shame in leaving her behind. I loved who she was, and I hated what happened to her. I didn’t know how to be a good son, a good brother. But I tried until I couldn’t any longer.
So, it’s bittersweet. Mother’s Day is a declaration of love but it’s also a remembrance. I look back and there is love, and sadness, and pain, and laughter. I wonder why she chose to make our family. Her life was on a path that could have gone so completely different.
Yet here we are, and here I am. I would have asked that things had gone differently for her, because her heart was kind and she was the sort of person that attracted others. She was a wonderful mom, and I miss her very much.
On April 27, 2020 I was admitted to the hospital for COVID related pneumonia and ARDS. I came home with lung scarring and hypoxemia. It has been a long road that I’m still recovering on. Admittedly, depression plays a part of this.
In the before-time, I’d plan 5k events, and would use a 15-minute mile as a basis for walkers when coordinating the timers. Today I work out at a pace of 21.4 minutes per mile. With a little incline it’s enough to put my heart rate up to Zone 3, so it’s a good workout. My walking pace is slow, slower than what I ever imagined it could be.
I would love to run again. It’s one of the best feelings to get out there and feel endorphins kicking in and just experience life in the moment as you let the stress drop away from you. I have this picture framed and hanging above my workstation in my home office:
It’s been 3 years following and I feel like I’m finally getting a handle on things. I’m working out with the support of my daughter Natalie and wife Angela – we regularly hit the room together in our ‘Pain Cave’ (thanks for the name Kristie) for Peloton workouts.
I know recovery takes a lot of things. It takes acceptance, effort, consistency, and support. But having your heart and mind in the right place – believing in yourself, making a decision to do something; after fighting apathy, not letting depression win…
I have empathy for anyone in the same place. I had to talk to someone, and a doctor recommended starting an anti-depressant that frankly turned things around for me. It wasn’t a quick fix, it took months before I started thinking about not just accepting bad health.
It helped me start on the path again. I’m doing things that help me see little wins again & that’s enough to keep going. I want to put it out there that if you are where I’ve been, I see you. It’s not easy & it can be overwhelming. I’m just ask for you to reach out.
Thanks to a post from Utah Parents United (who I will affectionately reference as Q-UTiP), we now have access to a fantastic reading list on books about marginalized and oppressed identities, particularly books dealing with race and LGBT issues.
Books on this list are Teacher’s Picks, finalists and winners of awards for National Book Award for Young People’s Literature, the Michael L. Printz Award, Stonewall Book Award, and the Pura Belpré Award. Many of these books are on the New York Times bestseller list. Several have been adapted to film.
DONATE BOOKS HERE: I’m providing a link to the Q-UTiP Banned Books list on amazon.com, where you can purchase any of these books for distribution to Little Free Libraries in our community, and to any 501(c)3 organizations based in Utah that are willing to accept book donations.
BUY YOUR OWN BOOKS HERE: You can peruse the list of Q-UTiP’s “banned” books below, sorted alphabetically by title. The links in the table go to the amazon.com page where you can purchase the book for yourself, if desired.
A family of five is infected with coronavirus, and struggles to manage through a pandemic
Let me start by saying that we’re a family of five, and we all contracted the coronavirus. My son is diagnosed with schizophrenia and has recently been moving across a spate of jobs, and my youngest daughter has cerebral palsy from an inutero stroke she experienced. My eldest daughter is going to college and works part-time. All of our kids live at home with us. My wife and I work at the same software company. I am a home-based employee and she has been working from home since mid-March when the company announced employees were to work from home going forward.
My son had recently started work in the deli department of a local grocery store, and had a co-worker who tested positive. I don’t think he understood that he was exposed because although they work closely together, he happened to be off on the day the coworker reported the infection. Within a week I had developed symptoms that I thought were a bad case of the flu, because how could I possibly have been exposed to the coronavirus? We were being careful about distancing and staying home, and we didn’t know anyone who had been infected.
My symptoms started on April 17, and by one week later I had already experienced a couple of nights awake trying to breathe because I couldn’t get enough air. I went in to test for COVID-19 on that day, and after I came back home my son finally mentioned that someone he worked closely with had reported being infected, wasn’t he lucky to have not been there the day it was reported? I really don’t think my son realized that he had already been exposed. My test came back positive the next day. My wife and youngest daughter had started to develop symptoms that were different from mine and from each other. We all had low grade fevers, aches and whole body exhaustion, but where my breathing was affected, Angela’s heart would race, and Natalie experienced nausea and stomach problems. My wife, two daughters and son all tested on April 24, and the tests were positive for all but my eldest daughter. My son was infected, but asymptomatic. We had been quarantined, now we started self isolation.
On Friday we received a poster drawn by Katie Hut – Natalie’s Special Olympics Partner, BFF and fellow Brooklyn Nine-Nine fan. The Hut family and the Green family are intertwined in lots of ways, and this outreach of kind thoughts was fun and uplifting.
On Saturday evening we received a “heart-attack” where friends came by and taped messages on heart-shaped papers across our front door. It was overwhelming that there was so much support from our friends (they rightfully call themselves the #Tribe). Tribe members stopped by to drop off a pulse oximeter so we could monitor oxygen levels, and more Tylenol where we had run out. There were messages sent and a doordash account set up for us. A long-time friend and neighbor dropped off groceries from Costco at our door. Our first dinner drop-off was homemade potato soup with dinner rolls. A gift box was hand delivered for Natalie. My coworkers rallied to plan a couple of shopping trips that were delivered to our home. Another coworker sponsored us to receive Goodr sunglasses through the company’s gratitude initiative (can I hear Carl say “SQQQQQUAAAAWWWKKKKK” (that is I love you in flamingo). There were a lot of social media interactions as well, and it was an outpouring of support that was unexpected and sudden. It was help that we didn’t know we needed, and we were humbled and grateful for the network that reached out.
The next couple of nights were difficult for me – I couldn’t breathe well enough to fall asleep and stayed propped up on the couch at night to focus on breathing. Early Monday morning of April 27 I wasn’t able to keep my O2 levels above 90 so went to the local emergency room and after an evaluation and a chest x-ray, was admitted to the hospital for Acute Hypoxemic Respiratory Failure (a type of ARDS) and pneumonia. I was in the hospital for 3 days because, as the doctors explained – ARDS typically develops within 10-12 days following initial symptoms, and from then there is a 72-hour window where the patient either maintains, or quickly loses capacity and ends up on a ventilator. Doctor #2’s query about having advanced directives in place was grave. I’m a 52 year old man who is overweight, with hypertension and diabetes. It was their decision to keep me in the ICU long enough to ensure I would not be on a ventilator. Visitors weren’t allowed in the ICU, and my family was at home dealing with their own symptoms. Telling my wife, and texting with my in-laws about this was difficult because I could see and hear the concern in their words and voices. I think they thought I wasn’t coming home.
I was in the hospital for 3 days because, as the doctors explained – ARDS typically develops within 10-12 days following initial symptoms, and from then there is a 72-hour window where the patient either maintains, or quickly loses capacity and ends up on a ventilator.
During my hospital stay I was thanking the staff and complaining about going home. Each time anyone walked into the room they wore full PPE, and I wore a face mask while they responded to monitors, played with oxygen levels, recorded vitals, took blood, administered shots, gave me oral medication and delivered meals. My blood glucose was high enough that I began receiving injections of insulin to bring numbers down. A salt supplement was added because my bloodwork showed extremely low potassium (hypokalemia), which made everything that I ate taste like salt was poured over it. I received Lovenox as an anticoagulant but stopped taking it when I developed nosebleeds.
There wasn’t much to do in the room except listen to what was going on in the hallway and in rooms next to mine, or text on my phone with people reaching out. My game to pass time turned into removing the nasal cannula for my oxygen and watching my O2 levels drop on the monitor – my intent was to see the numbers stay above 90 so I could claim I wasn’t getting worse, and good enough to go home. The numbers regularly dipped into the 80’s and 70’s, and would occasionally dip below 90 when I wore the oxygen. There was slow stabilization though. I went from two liters of oxygen to three, then to two, then down to 1 liter of oxygen before going back up to two liters. The good news here is that I wasn’t going down hill completely. On the third day, doctor #4 agreed that if we were able to arrange getting an oxygen concentrator, that I would be able to check out in the afternoon. I was incredibly happy to send that message to my wife. While I waited for equipment to be coordinated for me to take home a nurse came in and talked about Convalescent Plasma donations, and explained how someone previously infected with COVID-19 could donate plasma that would be given to an infected patient in critical status. I went home on Wednesday, April 29. Shortly after I left there was a story in the paper about a woman in another IHC hospital who was on a ventilator, who recovered five days after receiving a plasma donation.
Angela had come to pick me up from the hospital. Following my return to home, our afternoon was primarily receiving the oxygen concentrator, along with several air tanks and a CPAP machine. Although it was good to be home, it was a somber transition to hear the pumps and be connected to a 50-foot tether that I received oxygen from. In 2008 my father had passed away from Pulmonary Fibrosis, and I was intimately familiar with this equipment. At the time I wondered how long I would require it, and whether this was a turning point in my health and life (that question still does not have an answer).
We’re pretty gushy about the shout-out that SIRSY made for us on their April 30 virtual concert, when they dedicated their song Stand for us (you can subscribe to their YouTube channel here). So much love for these two, and yes they actually made me tear up to come home and see this.
On May 1st, my eldest daughter tested again for coronavirus, and this time was positive. Consider whether you would have successfully navigated away from four others living in the same home for 14 days without contracting what they carried. According to this article by Erin Bromage PhD, most people get infected in their own home. It is the sustained contact with family members that leads to infection.
Holly at the Salt Lake County Health Department began calling our home on Friday, April 24 to follow up with me initially, but began to track the entire family as we were infected. Holly tracked our symptoms, provided direction on self isolation, and enquired into our social history to see where she could associate the distribution of the virus. Her calls were informational, reassuring, and provided guidance from someone who was knowledgeable to talk to. We correlated disparate updates from cdc.gov, coronavirus.utah.gov and testutah.com so that we could determine safe departure from self-isolation, and discussed the progress of symptoms.
Recovery is taking place, although slower than hoped for. We have passed the number of days required for self-isolation. Marisa, Angela and Natalie have been cleared by Salt Lake County Health Department. Gabriel took a second COVID test and is now confirmed negative for the virus. Angela’s heartrate is still high. I’m still using the oxygen concentrator, mainly at night and occasionally during the day. We have started to go out to walk the dog, but wear masks outside and maintain physical distance from passers-by. I have found a new physician who I like, and have completed labs and a wellness check, and am now on a new medication plan. Things are looking better.
I have a Red Cross Blood appointment on June 1st to donate Convalescent Plasma. My goal is to be off of oxygen before then, and be able to give back so that I can help someone who is more in need.
Some perspective after being impacted by COVID-19: there is a new normal that needs to be carried out in public as we keep the distance and help protect others. Our first wealth is our health as a community, without that we are all grabbing for the same short straw.
Thoughts Following Coronavirus Exposure
Without a community network, self-isolation can be incredibly difficult. We were supported by neighbors, friends, coworkers and healthcare members who delivered groceries, meals, words of encouragement and even medical treatment to our home.
Everyone needs a health kit at their home. Start with a reliable thermometer, a pulse oximeter, medicine to manage symptoms (reduce fever, a decongestant and pain relievers), facial masks, and extra batteries for electronic devices.
Know what it means to establish an advanced directive, or to have a healthcare proxy for making end-of-life care decisions.
If you don’t have an established relationship with a PCP and/or a medical office, consider doing so now. Find out where your insurance is accepted, locate the doctors who are accepting patients, and get yourself in for a wellness check. In the event that you have an emergency you will very likely need to follow up with your primary doctor for status, treatment and releases, which is difficult if you don’t have one in the first place.
We’re fortunate to live in an area where grocers have been experimenting with eShop and delivery. Without this we would have been significantly more dependent on others to get basic items.
People with mental health issues are particularly impacted. Hygiene issues, difficulty communicating, inability to consistently follow guidance for physical distancing are common reasons why risk of exposure is higher, and this may be compounded by homelessness.
After self-isolation, it has been awkward returning to public activities where others do not practice physical distancing, or wear masks. I don’t think people understand how profoundly different this virus is.
There is some skepticism from others about infection regarding the seriousness of becoming ill with coronavirus, or doubts of the level of contagion. Again, I don’t understand the conspiracy theorists at all.
There is a wariness from both sides due to the lack of a consistent message by leaders, and in some cases for the obvious disregard of medical experts by politicians.
Longterm effects of COVID-19 exposure are unknown. Articles like Coronavirus survivors banned from joining the military (militarytimes.com) state that the military has permanent disqualification for anyone with a confirmed history of COVID-19, which raises questions about what long term effects there may be.
A suggested govern-mint concoction that combines bitter tears and sour lemons with the sweet, sweet satisfying taste of Mmm-Peach-Mint® Iced Tea. Share at your next partisan political soiree – namely the upcoming Senate trial.
1 cup packed fresh mint leaves
181-197 tears of partisan republicans
2 right-wing tea bags
1 can of white house swamp peaches, not drained
¼ cup fresh lemon juice
½ cup sugar to help all that medicine go down
cold, cold ice
Directions Using a wooden spoon, crush the mint just like you crushed their objections and stalling tactics into a glass pitcher. Add tears and tea bags; cover and let stand in the sun for at least 6 hours of debate.
Meanwhile, combine those swamp peaches, sour lemons and sugar in a blender. Keep it chill, yo.
Remove and discard mint from tea. Stir in peach mixture. Pour over the cold, cold ice your democratic peers just delivered.
Mmm-Peach-Mint tea should be savored. Take your time to relax and fully enjoy it when you knock that drink down.
Of course, if you’re sitting across the aisle and looking for a stronger drink, then consider my recipe for the salt-rimmed Ermahgerdarita®.
I had sketched out this design in late 2017 while exploring different elements that represented influences in my life. If you have ever been asked to create a piece of art that represents who you are, you’ll quickly realize how difficult it becomes to incorporate all of those facets of being into a single statement.
Much of my first design drew elements from growing up in Alaska (the northern lights, Forget-Me-Nots, the raven, beaver tail, and cedars) but also incorporated symbols from Utah (bees and hive, and the Scotch thistle) where my family has grown and called home for the past two decades.
There were several reasons that I wanted to work with will_xx at Blaque Salt Studio, an unmarked studio hidden behind the chairs of a barber shop in downtown Salt Lake City (you can see his most recent artwork posted at his Instagram account). He’s an amazing artist who I have gotten to know over the past year, and can only say that he and his family are strong positives for me and for my family. His artwork has exceptional detail that I love, and he is consistently thoughtful and meticulous with the pieces that he creates. Will’s initial response was to push back and consider narrow my subject matter focus so that a maximum of 3 elements were used. He would then look at how the artwork was to be applied to the natural lines of the body, and produce his version of the art.
One of my personal motifs has been the sun symbol, which represents new opportunity, or a chance to begin again. The idea has kept me going in some truly difficult times.
When my father moved our family to Petersburg, Alaska in 1977 – a fishing village on Mitkof island in the southeast panhandle of the state – I was introduced to the story of ‘How Raven Stole the Sun’ – a Tlingit and Haida tale that described how Raven brought light to the world. Raven’s feathers are singed black from carrying the Sun back into the world.
I brought back this cleaned up version of my raven design to give him a better idea of the elements that I wanted to include in the image. Keep in mind that this is my style of artwork; although I was using this to convey ideas, I was dependent on Will’s interpretation of my work.
I wanted his detail and realism with the added style elements drawn from Tlingit/Haida art. This is the revised version that Will presented back. The artwork was modified to present on my forearm more naturally, with the tattoo facing outward to present the head and sun going away from my body.
The Tattoo Session (August, 2018)
Will’s studio is hidden. From the storefront you walk through a salon to open a door at the back that reveals his workshop with black walls and a menagerie of lighted displays, collectibles, artwork and anatomical specimens. The work area is lit by vintage bulbs and LED light strings. A Pandora channel plays a long list of curated music that spans genres.
Will started by presenting a stencil of the revised work, explaining its placement and ensuring that I was okay with the design, its size and how he planned to work the art. My arm was shaved, the stencil was applied, then Will added some additional revisions before beginning work. Will used disposable cartridge-based needles to apply the ink.
My appointment started just after noon and completed around 6PM, approximately 5 1/2 hours of work with a couple of breaks.
The aftercare following the tattoo was pretty simple – wear a surgical bandage over the entire tattoo for 4 days. After four days the bandage is removed, and a regimen of cleaning and moisturizing begins.
During these first four days liquid will begin to ooze under the bandage that blurs the artwork; this is normal. Your skin treats the tattoo like a wound as it heals, and will produce plasma to fight off infection. The bandage not only protects the skin but allows your body to begin this healing process. It may feel like a sunburn (and mine did – especially if I was outside in our 90+ degree weather). Any itching could be treated with pressure applied over the site or with cool wraps, but not by scratching.
The bandage makes the artwork look like a hot mess after the first day – so I chose to cover up for a couple events that took place where I didn’t want to show my arm in its healing state. On the fourth day, I was able to remove the bandage and clean the tattoo for the first time. With the bandage gone I began applying Aquaphor to the tattoo – I could tell when I needed to apply more when the dry, hot, itchy feeling returned.
Cleaning the tattoo daily with a mild soap (Cetaphil), and applying lotion following that has helped significantly to reduce any discomfort associated with the healing process.
The Result (July, 2019)
It’s been 11 months (a little under one year) since I got my tattoo. The healing period went pretty much as Will described, hairs have re-grown and skin is remarkably normal. The colors and lines of the tattoo are still strong, and I’m quite happy with the work that Will provided. He is an exceptional artist, and does quality work.
I do plan to have additional artwork done, and will continue to incorporate elements from my original design along with new artwork as I build out the sleeve.
There was a suicide that took place in the neighboring community, at a place where I walk daily. It occurred just before New Years, and was quietly responded to and cleaned up before most of us knew what had happened; all that is left now are some signs that someone made stating “You are loved!”. A few more signs were placed out yesterday that I’m glad to see. I’ve been thinking about this a lot because it’s clear that more hearts have broken since this particular one stopped beating. There is an emptiness that is left behind. I didn’t know this person but I can feel the rift just the same.
Depression and mental illness affect my family. Holidays are difficult, and it can be overwhelming. We often lose sight of the love around us when depression sets in. Even when things are down, it’s important to know that you are loved.
Reach out, and be willing to let others reach out to you.
Know that you are seen. Know that you are noticed. Know that there is someone who cares enough to listen so that you can be heard. Know that you matter.
To anyone out there for whom living hurts so badly, the alternative seems like a viable option: I am so sorry. This life can be simultaneously so beautiful and so painful, it can be hard to bear.
Please, let others help you carry the load.
Don’t go. Not yet. There is more to see.
Volunteers of America | Youth Homeless Services – individuals may come to the Youth Resource Center for a shower, to do laundry or get some food. VOA works to build trust and break down barriers that led to homelessness in order to help teens transform their lives.
PS I Love You Day – wear purple to stand up against bullying, help end depression, and ultimately prevent suicide. The group uses positive messaging and events to remind you that you are special, loved, and that you are never alone.
Stand for the Silent – a place for you to talk with others who are willing to listen, accept you and offer their love and advice. A place you are safe to say how you feel without the fear of being judged.
I have a pretty steady diet of the things that I like to eat when losing weight, so I’m sharing what I buy here along with some simple and fast recipes for on the go. These foods currently supplement the Nutrisystem diet I’m on, but can be used anytime, regardless.
My local Smith’s Market has most of the items I’m listing below. Smith’s is a Kroger market, so depending on where you live, Kroger includes City Market, Dillons, Fred Meyer, Fry’s, King Soopers, QFC, Ralphs, Harris Teeter, Smith’s Food and Drug, and Kroger Supermarkets.
I also recommend Costco for a good portion of items. Costco has a great selection of top-quality produce, and carries the deli-sliced turkey and bacon crumbles I use. I love coffee, so that also gets purchased here as well.
Mix the egg and tomatillo salsa in a microwave-safe bowl. Microwave on high for approximately 50 seconds. Use a fork to remove the egg and place on tortilla. Add turkey or bacon crumbles, then wrap and run.
Maple-Caramel Latte, 16 0z – 101 cals
1 cup Simple Truth Organic Fat Free Milk (80 cals)
1 cup Water (as little or as much as desired)
1 Tbsp Instant Coffee (or more if you like strong coffee/rocket fuel)
1 Tbsp Lakanto Maple Flavored Syrup (21 cals)
1 Tbsp Torani Sugar-Free Classic Caramel Syrup
Combine milk and water, then heat on high in a microwave for 1:30 minutes. Add the instant coffee and syrups. Mix (I either shake or blend to make it frothy) and pour into your favorite coffee mug. Perfect for the season and upcoming cooler days.
Lunch Salad – 125/165 cals
Taylor Farms Mediterranean Crunch Chopped Salad (salad only – don’t add the feta, pita chips or dressing packets)
Cherry Tomatoes, sliced
104 g Turkey Breast (100 cals), or 28 g Bacon Crumbles (120 cals) (choose one but not both)
1-2 Tbsp BoltHouse Yogurt Dressing (25-45 cals)
The key here is to get your veggies in – these aren’t only good for you, but will help to make you feel full. Add as much salad and tomatoes as you like, but stick to the plan for the rest of the stuff. Mix in a large salad bowl and get ready to munch down.
Any one of these snacks will keep you in the sub 250 calorie range:
Yogurt + 1 Med. Apple, 2 Mandarins, or 1 Med Banana
1 Med. Apple + 1 Tbsp Peanut Butter
Cherry Tomatoes or Carrots + 2 Tbsp Bolthouse Dressing
So a sort of perfect storm occurred, and I’m suddenly subscribed to a Nutrisystem meal plan. It started when I received a small spot bonus at work, which I initially planned to use for a new cordless hedge trimmer at Lowes. After that order was initially delayed, then delayed forever, I decided to look around to decide where to spend all that sweet moolah.
A couple of days later, I was shopping at the happiest place on earth where a perfect storm took place. In front of me was the gift card display, and on a big sign it announced that the Nutrisystem $100 gift cards were on sale for $55 after instant rebate. My brain started clicking.
Back in 2008 I had enrolled in Nutrisystem and had a lot of success using their meal plan to lose weight. Say what you will about food-in-a-box diet plans, this one had worked for me. After losing 30 pounds I started running and was able to keep losing weight on a normal diet, and eventually got down to 195 (I had started at 265). By then I had run a couple of marathons and several half-marathons, and was looking good, even if I couldn’t walk down the stairs in the mornings because of all the running. Whatever. I digress. Bottom line is that the meal plan worked for me.
So here’s what I was thinking – with my cool spot bonus money combined with the Costco discounted gift cards, I could purchase a 28-day supply of Nutrisystem. And that’s exactly what I did.
My 4 week update: I’ve lost about 20 pounds (starting weight 264.1 current weight 245.5)
There are several cautions that I want to raise:
Nutrisystem has a sneaky penalty for subscribers: If you purchase a 28-day supply using their discounted subscription pricing, you effectively commit to receiving at least one more order from them, or face having a $125 penalty assessed for cancelling before the second order is processed. There was no indication of this on the Costco site where I purchased from (you can check the Nutrisystem Terms and Conditions shown for the product here). I realized this as my order was being placed online… and that’s certainly not when you want to learn about a hidden cost. I was able to mitigate the problem by going back to Costco and purchasing another month’s worth of gift cards.
Nutrisystem now advertises and sells what it calls a 28 day plan, but the reality is that you only receive meals for 24 days, not 28. Why is this, you might ask? The answer is what they call a Flex Meal. Here’s what they say: “While on Nutrisystem, you’ll get to enjoy flex meals and snacks – one breakfast, one lunch, one dinner and two snacks each week on your own.” That’s an inconvenient way to describe how they short your order for 4 days worth of food on that 28-day meal plan (and yes, they are truly shorting your order, and there is a term for it: shrinkflation. It’s the practice of reducing a product’s size while maintaining its price so that consumers unknowingly pay the same for less – see this BBC Article The Food You Buy Really is Shrinking).
Prices for Nutrisystem have gone way, way up and they deliver a lot less at the same time. Because I was a recurring customer starting in 2008 I have access to the orders I placed then, and can compare them to what I’m purchasing now. Here’s a comparison: Nov 2008: 4 weeks + 1 week free, male $277.99 (no discount) Nov 2011: 35 day program, male $259.99 (no discount) Aug 2013: 4 weeks + 1 week free, male $259.99 ($65 discount) Sep 2017: 4 weeks (technically 24 days), male $384.29 ($133.07 discount) Oct 2017: 4 weeks (technically 24 days), male $414.29 ($103.07 discount)
That “discount” is a complete joke, because their prices have gone from roughly $7.94 per day for meals in 2008 (and only $7.43 per day in 2013), to $17.26 per day for meals in 2017… and that’s not considering what they consider their pre-discounted price. That’s a 217% increase in cost.
Order processing is late; often later than you’d expect. My first recent order took 1 week to process. My second recent order (keep in mind that it was a subscription/automatic order) was supposed to process 6 days ago. It bugs me just a little bit that a customer service agent told me it was waiting to be picked up by FedEx on Friday, but on the following Monday I receive confirmation that a tracking number was created (still no record of it in the system). Did the agent lie? How would FedEx pick up an order that still had no shipping label created? I now have a gap in the Nutrisystem diet because I’ve effectively run out of food from the first order. Keep in mind that my prior orders in 2008, 2011 and 2013 always processed in one day. According to their customer service, their official processing and shipping time is (now) 4-10 business days.
Customer Service is a soothe-sayer, and they aren’t great at placating. That problem you’re contacting them about isn’t really a problem; it’s a feature of the program, or it’s their interpretation. As an example, when I contacted them about the late second order I was told “With the way our auto-delivery system works, we weren’t scheduled to begin processing you(r) order until [order date].” Silly me. I thought that with the order in their system for weeks, they could actually have planned to ship (or deliver) the order on the date indicated.
You have to call to cancel their Auto-Delivery program. Even though you can order, edit and even delay your order online, the one thing you can’t do is cancel the order… which only makes sense if Nutrisystem plans to talk someone out of cancelling the service. According to the forum support topics How do I cancel my plan? and Can I customize, cancel or delay my auto-delivery order?, you MUST call to cancel the auto-delivery service. The best part? If you already paid and are due a refund, it can take up to 8 weeks to refund your money.
Once the second order finally ships, I’m placing the call to cancel any future auto-delivery with Nutrisystem (update: I’m now waiting to see whether an adjustment comes through from a comment/exchange about the two orders with the Counseling Support team. This one has me stymied because it doesn’t make sense how the refund was calculated, but it’s to my benefit so I shouldn’t complain). Yes I’ve lost weight; but the problems of cost/value, bad customer practices and poor customer service are enough to leave a bad taste in my mouth (and I’ll end with that pun).
Nov 5 update: Based on a Nutrisystem email invite to do so, I posted a review on consumeraffairs.com, which you can find here. Nutrisystem has responded, and we’re talking privately following the public exchange. The product itself is great, however it’s the policies, pricing and t&c’s that I can’t wrap my head around. I truly don’t understand how the price can go up so significantly but see service levels drop so much at the same time, while the terms of placing an order have to be regarded carefully because commitments are required when none existed before.