Adventures in Grocery Shopping!
Life with POTS has all the typical ups and downs that come with, well, getting up and down!
As each symptoms becomes my new normal, I start to miss what used to be of my life before pots. The ability to run (not that I enjoyed actually running, but not being able to do it without a heart rate of 180 sucks), going and hanging out with friends, not worrying about the energy put into doing the little things.
Tied for the worst, is my problem with processing everything in the world around me. With my autonomic nervous system glitchy and dysfunctional, my "fight or flight" response tends to work overdrive in the worst of ways and at the worst of times. Instead of my body filtering what is important, everything is important. Something dropped! Someone sneezed! ACK, something is there! Varying from a scare most people only experience from horror movies to feeling like I'm being interviewed by 20 people at once.
All of the sensory clues the world has become crushingly obvious. At the time I'm writing this, all the lights are turned off, the air is off, dog is sleeping, and my phone is flipped over and silenced.
What I used to consider typical noise has become impossible to ignore when POTS says so.
Due to that, and no lines, I usually frequent Walmart and other 24 hour stores long after most customers have finished shopping. I can't sleep much of the time anyways, so why not put that time to use?
Occasionally I need to go during "normal-person" hours. Recently was one of those times. My body was already rebelling and on high-alert with a heart rate ticking 150 standing, and what I used to only feel at the beginnings of catching a cold. I had put off going to Walmart every day of the week already and was running out of things that I needed, so decided to push through it (rarely a good idea with chronic illness, but ...). Armed with my service dog and 10-item shopping list on my phone, a list that took 45 minutes and 2 phone calls to create because my memory wouldn't cooperate, I was ready to do this.
Trying to get my body under control in the parking lot - you never realize how much stimulus there is until you can't ignore it - from the car headlights in the mirrors and windshield, the carts moving and clanking, I turned the car music on and started to drown it all out. Focusing on one song is beautifully simple. Grabbed my headphones from the center console. Said a quick prayer my 30% battery would make it through. Flipped on the music. Grabbed dog.
Enter Walmart.
Immediately my body registers the crisp, dry air rushing around me as the automatic doors open (no swish sound, thanks to the sound of Jon Pardi). Walking up to where the carts are lined up my brain notices the yellow greeter uniform, the 3 people to the left of us watching dog, the cold cart handle, and the vivid scents of seasonal produce. We start walking, thankful this cart has no hiccupping wheel - another sensory bullet dodged.
I open the shopping list and switch through to find another favorite song as the first one ends, and head for the non-dairy (thanks MCAD) ice cream to try to keep symptoms at bay. The long aisle of options is overwhelming, so I decide to stick with the first brand I see and know is non-dairy - Ben & Jerry's. Even within the small Ben & Jerry's section I'm finding it hard to focus on all the labels, colors, and the lights of the display, so I give up on finding non-dairy tonight and move on. I'll come back for it later, it isn't the first and won't be the last thing I've pushed off.
Next on the list... Cookie dough! Rounding the corner to the refrigerated area, my music is drowned out from the loud squeals of children, thrilled that a doggy has surprised them on their shopping adventure! Less than thrilled my attempts to drown out as much stimulus as possible, I grab the cookie dough and keep going, thankful they ran to their parents to gush at a distance... Loudly at a distance, but better than at our feet.
Next: cleaning supplies! Taking out the headphones for the 40 seconds it takes to ask and thank an employee restocking for their help is worth it.... right? Trading off the visual over-stimulation for the auditory; suddenly becoming aware of the machine cleaning the floors, the forklift carrying and dropping inventory, the carts thunk-thunk-thunking past.
Back to the tolerable levels of music engulfing me, and to the next section.
Combing the store taking my time to find what I'm looking for wasn't a luxury I had tonight, and the next 2 things were cut from my list since I couldn't focus, and after circling the section 3 times I gave up on finding where they were.
Last item!
We stop at the essential oils section searching for scents to start competition nosework training. Despite that section being messy and everything in the wrong place, the essential oils are floor level and let me sit and rest as I search the little section for the 15 minutes (yup it was that bad) it took to look through everything! None that I needed in stock. Boo.
Time to go home!
The self-checkout is the fastest way to get through, shortest standing time, and we get out missing only 3 things (of 8) we came for. Not bad.
We load up into the car, dog kennels, and I lay in the driver's seat music on and eyes closed letting my heart rate drop into the 70s and my body relax before heading home and decompressing from the relatively short Walmart trip.
As each symptoms becomes my new normal, I start to miss what used to be of my life before pots. The ability to run (not that I enjoyed actually running, but not being able to do it without a heart rate of 180 sucks), going and hanging out with friends, not worrying about the energy put into doing the little things.
Tied for the worst, is my problem with processing everything in the world around me. With my autonomic nervous system glitchy and dysfunctional, my "fight or flight" response tends to work overdrive in the worst of ways and at the worst of times. Instead of my body filtering what is important, everything is important. Something dropped! Someone sneezed! ACK, something is there! Varying from a scare most people only experience from horror movies to feeling like I'm being interviewed by 20 people at once.
All of the sensory clues the world has become crushingly obvious. At the time I'm writing this, all the lights are turned off, the air is off, dog is sleeping, and my phone is flipped over and silenced.
What I used to consider typical noise has become impossible to ignore when POTS says so.
Due to that, and no lines, I usually frequent Walmart and other 24 hour stores long after most customers have finished shopping. I can't sleep much of the time anyways, so why not put that time to use?
Occasionally I need to go during "normal-person" hours. Recently was one of those times. My body was already rebelling and on high-alert with a heart rate ticking 150 standing, and what I used to only feel at the beginnings of catching a cold. I had put off going to Walmart every day of the week already and was running out of things that I needed, so decided to push through it (rarely a good idea with chronic illness, but ...). Armed with my service dog and 10-item shopping list on my phone, a list that took 45 minutes and 2 phone calls to create because my memory wouldn't cooperate, I was ready to do this.
Trying to get my body under control in the parking lot - you never realize how much stimulus there is until you can't ignore it - from the car headlights in the mirrors and windshield, the carts moving and clanking, I turned the car music on and started to drown it all out. Focusing on one song is beautifully simple. Grabbed my headphones from the center console. Said a quick prayer my 30% battery would make it through. Flipped on the music. Grabbed dog.
Enter Walmart.
Immediately my body registers the crisp, dry air rushing around me as the automatic doors open (no swish sound, thanks to the sound of Jon Pardi). Walking up to where the carts are lined up my brain notices the yellow greeter uniform, the 3 people to the left of us watching dog, the cold cart handle, and the vivid scents of seasonal produce. We start walking, thankful this cart has no hiccupping wheel - another sensory bullet dodged.
I open the shopping list and switch through to find another favorite song as the first one ends, and head for the non-dairy (thanks MCAD) ice cream to try to keep symptoms at bay. The long aisle of options is overwhelming, so I decide to stick with the first brand I see and know is non-dairy - Ben & Jerry's. Even within the small Ben & Jerry's section I'm finding it hard to focus on all the labels, colors, and the lights of the display, so I give up on finding non-dairy tonight and move on. I'll come back for it later, it isn't the first and won't be the last thing I've pushed off.
Next on the list... Cookie dough! Rounding the corner to the refrigerated area, my music is drowned out from the loud squeals of children, thrilled that a doggy has surprised them on their shopping adventure! Less than thrilled my attempts to drown out as much stimulus as possible, I grab the cookie dough and keep going, thankful they ran to their parents to gush at a distance... Loudly at a distance, but better than at our feet.
Next: cleaning supplies! Taking out the headphones for the 40 seconds it takes to ask and thank an employee restocking for their help is worth it.... right? Trading off the visual over-stimulation for the auditory; suddenly becoming aware of the machine cleaning the floors, the forklift carrying and dropping inventory, the carts thunk-thunk-thunking past.
Back to the tolerable levels of music engulfing me, and to the next section.
Combing the store taking my time to find what I'm looking for wasn't a luxury I had tonight, and the next 2 things were cut from my list since I couldn't focus, and after circling the section 3 times I gave up on finding where they were.
Last item!
We stop at the essential oils section searching for scents to start competition nosework training. Despite that section being messy and everything in the wrong place, the essential oils are floor level and let me sit and rest as I search the little section for the 15 minutes (yup it was that bad) it took to look through everything! None that I needed in stock. Boo.
Time to go home!
The self-checkout is the fastest way to get through, shortest standing time, and we get out missing only 3 things (of 8) we came for. Not bad.
We load up into the car, dog kennels, and I lay in the driver's seat music on and eyes closed letting my heart rate drop into the 70s and my body relax before heading home and decompressing from the relatively short Walmart trip.
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