Tackling “The new list”
I left off in the last article Mystery Package Arrives…Part 1 after I lost my list in the second of seven stops. You may remember I mentioned that the list was too long for one trip. The pre-brain injury (BI) Jena would have had no problem tackling it in a heartbeat. Things are a little bit different these days. While lists used to be something I enjoyed, they now create anxiety.
The good news is my memory is overall pretty good with intermittent hiccups. The day I left my list (which was double-sided with the grocery items on one side and the store names on the other) at the grocery store self-checkout I went home, unloaded the groceries, and started making a new list. Fortunately, I was able to recreate the list…partly because there was already another list which I didn’t finish so I was able to start with this information.
As I said before, I like to dovetail errands with other things. For example, I play most of my tennis matches in Cherry Creek. My mail box is in Cherry Creek where I used to live. You probably see where this is going.
I had a tennis match scheduled the next day and I was feeling better so I tackled a few more items on “the new list”.
Mail call
Clearly one of the items on my list was to pick up the “mystery” package and pick up my mail while I was there. For some reason, the center was very busy and they were understaffed with only one person working the counter. One of the workers was delivering mail into the zone that contained my mail box. I grabbed my mail and sauntered over to the line to pick up my package and patiently waited for my turn.
I glanced through my mail and a paycheck for a project I completed recently greeted my gaze. Hey, what a great surprise! So far, this visit to the mail box center was a happy one and not even the reason that compelled me to go. Several minutes pass and I’m still racking my brain to see what might be the package. Absolutely nothing comes to mind. Eventually, it’s my turn and I see a white shipping label with “Macy’s” on it–still not ringing a bell in my bell. I sign for it and pick it up. It’s soft and lightweight. Then I think, “Someone sent me a gift!” As I walk to the car, the details begin to surface as the neurons in my brain start connecting to proper wires. Then, I remember!
I hate to shop…
I really don’t like to shop. In fact, people who know me well know I hate to shop. Let’s be clear: I disliked shopping before my accident. I lived across from the prestigious Cherry Creek Mall and I still only went when my eye liner had nothing left. For two years I had $80 in gift certificates sitting in one of my “common” drawers to serve as a daily reminder I had them. They survived me living in five different places from March to October. They are determined to motivate me to shop. When I moved into my “new” apartment in October, I put them back in the proper place (the assigned drawer). I saw them daily but did nothing about them.
One day a few months ago I moved them from the drawer to the top of my dresser thinking that maybe this action and new location would motivate me to go to Macy’s and buy something. I needed new underwear and new bras–maybe that is another reason why I wasn’t motivated to go shopping! For months, I looked and disregarded those gift cards and got tired of dusting them so put them back in “the drawer”.
One day, a cold and snowy/rainy weekday conducive to being inside and not on a tennis court, I felt pretty darn good and I decided to make it my mission to buy a new pair of cut-off shorts since my friends keep telling me mine are “too worn” and have “too many holes”. With the weather warming up and the idea of wearing shorts again, I am motivated to replace my old ones and maybe pick up some underwear while I’m there. Maybe.
Lucy, my trusted companion, and I head to Macy’s in Cherry Creek. We head first to the denim department and I look in vain to find the Miss Me section. I believe it was 2013 when I bought my Miss Me denim shorts. When I can’t find the brand, I begin to look for any brand of denim cut-off shorts. Finally, I find some for $120 with as many holes and just as ragged as mine so I decide to skip the cut-off shorts and feel pretty good about being able to continue wearing my favorite pair of shorts even though they are two sizes too big these days. That’s OK I have a great-looking belt.
I peruse the sale rack while I’m there and find an adorable pair of lightweight, summer jeans that can be worn as is (short) or rolled up. I take my last-known size with me and a size up just in case and head to the lingerie department on the third floor. Now that I’m not buying cut-off shorts, I force myself to the intimate department and brace myself.
Friends in the right places
We are walking along just starting to get oriented with the department when I hear a voice calling my name and it’s more of a question than a statement, “Jena?” I look around to see if there’s more than one Jena but it’s pretty quiet in the department and I turn to find a familiar face. My friend, who was on one of the tennis teams I captained a few years ago, is a rep for the Wacoal line and happened to be at the Cherry Creek store that day. Go figure! I told her what my intentions were and I had an instant personal shopper. Hurrah for me!
When I shop, I only go in the dressing room once. I hate changing clothes and I’m claustrophobic. Dressing rooms are suffocating. Yes, we use the handicap rooms because they are bigger and it helps but the small space with the garish and damaging fluorescent lighting and loud music exacerbate my symptoms. Not only do I hate to shop in general but the environment is taxing to the brain too.
Gabriela did a quick measurement and went out to select bras and returning repeating the process until we found a few that worked for me. While she was out searching for the right styles, I tried on the denim pants and the one shirt I carried up from the second floor. To my astonishment, the sixes were way too big. Great news on the weight loss front but it meant I had to return to the second floor, find a four, return to the dressing room, partially undress, and well, I stopped thinking about the chain of events and blocked it from my mind to avoid even more anxiety.
While on the third floor, Gabriela introduced me to a woman who worked there. I didn’t think anything of this at the time but it comes into play in my shopping experience.
I paid for the items and ventured back to the second floor, thanking Gabriela for “being there for me today”. What a godsend having Gabriela there on the rare day I find myself motivated to shop. I don’t know any women who enjoy shopping for bras–even the women who love to shop!
On the second floor, I could not find the same pants anywhere so I asked for help. The young gal was awesome and helped me find them even though it had only been an hour or less since I picked them up. I had tried on at least 20 bras, shopped for panties, and checked out since I left the denim department and quite frankly my brain was getting overloaded already but I was determined to get this done. The clerk found the size fours and they fit, and finally I was off–or so I thought. On my way out, I walked by an adorable top that screamed my name. After downsizing in pants, I thought I had better try it on so back for a third time into a dressing room I go. Success! I’m officially done and the door is right in front of us. Woohoo! Shopping experience is now history and I’m ever so grateful.
Buyer’s remorse
When I return home, immediately I take the requisite brain break. This is where I retreat to my bedroom, close the blinds, lie on my bed flat, and shut the world out including all noises. I wear noise-canceling headphones to give my brain a complete shutdown and break. The trip to the mall was filled with anxiety, fluorescent lights, loud music, and general overwhelm. By the time I left the mall, my speech was slurring, my balance was off, my legs were heavy and I was beginning to stumble, and I was exhausted. Just like in Monopoly, I did not pass go and went directly home. (Ha! I just thought that going to the mall for me is the equivalent to going to jail in Monopoly!)
After the brain break, I decided to lay out the wares and make final decisions on the purchases. Clearly I went over the $80 gift card level and I wasn’t too keen on it. My financial recovery is still very much like my brain, “a work-in-progress” so I spread everything on the bed and made my choices. Thankfully, most items were on sale but after careful deliberation, I chose the items to return. The cute pants in size four were in the “I’m not sure” stage, so they made it to the closet with tags intact but perpendicular so I could see them and remind me subtly I still had to make a decision about them. Visual cues are essential to a brain-injured person otherwise we simply forget. The weather was cold for a week so I wasn’t able to actually wear the new pants anyway.
Meanwhile, a couple of days after the initial shopping spree, I went back to Macy’s with the returns to the intimate department. The same clerk was working and despite spending over the $80 gift card initially, she gives me a credit on my debit card for some of the items and a credit on, you guessed it, a Macy’s returns card. Awesome! Now I imagine holding onto another Macy’s card for an extended period once again. Ugh!
Almost a week later on a mild day, I decide to give the new pants a test drive at home. I wore them around a bit and decided they fit. I cut the tags off and about an hour later, I realized even the fours were too big. “Great” I thought sarcastically. In my mind I hear my voice saying, “I find a pair of pants that are super cute in a smaller size and they don’t fit”. Immediately, my mind races to the anxiety of having to return to the store again.
A few days later, as if I haven’t had enough of Macy’s already, I return to see about a smaller size. Luckily, the department is located on the same floor I parked on easing my anxiety. “Welcome back Jena and Lucy” I hear as I walk into the store. Remember that woman my friend Gabriela introduced me to up on the third floor? Well, she was working on this day and remembered us. What a pleasant way to do a return–with someone who remembered me and Lucy, and my injury! When people know you’re injured or need a little extra help, there’s a different level of service and they are truly happy to really go above and beyond and for this I am truly grateful. This woman, I’m uncertain of her name and don’t want to minimize how I value her by calling her by any other name, guided me to the denim department and told me to work with Jenny (easy name for me to remember) and pointed her out to me.
Jenni was great and did all the digging to find the same style of pants. Unfortunately, in the time between my original purchase and the return, the pants went on further discount and there wasn’t a size two in the store. However, there was a two in another style so I tried them on (yes, another venture into the dressing room!) and they worked. Now I was excited about another really cute pair of spring/summer denim jeans and had to decide if I was going to get these too or simply replace the other ones.
In the end, I decided on both especially since the second pair was on sale for under $20. Jenny took care of the return and the new order which had to be done in separate transactions from her standpoint which confused me (easily done these days) so I just let her do her thing. At this point, my brain is running on empty. We set up the delivery instructions and finally I paid and left within the free parking time allowed. Whew! Done with shopping!
Delayed “Instant gratification”
So all of these memories begin to flood my brain as I walk from the shipping center back to my car with my Macy’s package. I am amazed at how standing in line I had no idea whatsoever of any package “due” to me. I completely forgot about the entire Macy’s experience and particularly, forgotten I had actually ordered a pair of pants that were being shipped to my mail box. You might think I was elated to figure out the mystery but actually I was, and still am, quite bothered by the fact that if Macy’s had made an error on their part and not shipped my pants, I would have been out a pair of pants and not even known it.
By the time I got home, I was able to appreciate the fact that I had a new pair of pants for my sad state of clothing affairs but was more bothered by the memory issues than I was excited about a new pair of pants.
Here’s the kicker. Remember that gift card the intimate apparel department gave me when I returned some of the items? I’m sure you do. Do you think I remembered the gift card from the prior week that was sitting behind my debit card when it came time to pay for the second pair of pants? Of course not! I had no recollection of a Macy’s card in my possession nor was there a memory of receiving one despite the annoyance at the time of receiving it.
Today, more than a week later, I told my friend Jill the story. When I went to pay for my decaf Americano at Starbucks today she saw the Macy’s returns card under my Starbucks card and laughed commenting “There’s that card!” Once again, I had already forgotten it was there.
So for all of you who love retail therapy and the instant gratification it brings, shopping does not have that affect on me. In fact, in my current state, ordering an item is like Christmas only I picked out my own gift, completely forgot about it, and surprised myself when it arrived. That in itself is scary. I normally laugh at these brain injury moments otherwise I get too anxious but this is one that I currently have more concern than humor about and I hope that it’s just a temporary setback.
