Categories
Biohacking

Day 1985 and Am I In An Abusive Relationship With My Whoop?

A flurry of new offerings in the health tracker market alongside my surprisingly dramatic improvements in my own health over the last two months after going off my IL-17 inhibitor and onto a peptide stack has me considering a major life change: ditching my five year long relationship with my Whoop. I’m not entirely sure it’s healthy for me anymore.

I wear an Apple Watch but I have for five years now trusted my Whoop with my biometrics as their data display was significantly better and I trusted their data resolution as they took many more samples.

Whoop’s emphasis on HRV (heart rate variability) in particular won me over in the early days. I care more about my recovery than my exertion. I was simply too ill to ever train that hard. Nevertheless I wear both. I’m not alone in wearing multiple devices.

Fun fact: About 90% of smart-ring owners also own a smartwatch, according to research firm Circana – WSJ The Wearable Showdown

I tried an Oura ring early in the pandemic and found it to be too large to be manageable as I simply have very small hands. Their new claims to having made a 40% smaller band. This has me considering a switch if I’m able to port over my historic data and able to reconcile it with my historical inputs across personal vibe coded apps. Data portability is a huge plus in personal data products.

My fear is really don’t believe Oura Ring management team has a feel for women’s health. It has stopped me from considering them after I returned my first ring due to its comically large size.

But they are trying even if they are so damned awkward. The ceo brought up in an interview that “other cardio” to quote the XKCD comic is logged as wrestling or horseback riding. Gee. Thanks for that image guys. But I am a data obsessive and Whoop is driving me crazy.

Oura Ring in the WSJ

You see I am someone who is obsessive about my biometrics as a double device users and I worry it’s driving me crazy. Recently Apple changed its resting heart rate data to lowest daily average while Whoop has stuck with evening sleep average.

I have easily a 35BPM difference in resting heart rate between the two. And Whoop rags on me constantly about my high RHR at night. I got an EKG I was so concerned about it. Turns out that was totally unnecessary.

We may be correlating high resting heart rate at night with adverse affects when in reality it’s much more about your cardiovascular fitness. When I’m in pain at night and repairing of course I have a heart rate that is higher than ideal. But when I’m managing it during the day I do get much lower results.

And I have no idea how much to worry about this as I have a low HRV but fine to average V02 max. I do low impact work daily, maintain mobility and slowly work my lean muscle mass so how much do I need to panic based on my Whoop? It’s genuinely hard to tell.

The largest ongoing debate is whether RHR is a true causal factor or primarily a surrogate for cardiorespiratory fitness (CRF). Studies show that unfit individuals with high RHR have the greatest mortality risk, while unfit individuals with low RHR (pharmacologically induced) don’t gain the same benefit as fit individuals with low RHR. This suggests CRF may be the deeper driver, with RHR as its most easily measurable surface signal — meaning wearable-tracked trends in RHR over time may be as or more valuable than a single snapshot reading. – AI synopsis on RHR and cardiovascular fitness.

At this point I find it is hard to understand how much I should worry about how Apple measures its resting heart rate versus Whoop versus the nagging stress of never being good enough when I am simply doing my best to improve slowly with sensible measures like lean mass, lower fat mass, regularly enjoying cardiovascular exertion, sleeping well and eating as well as anyone can be expected to in the American food system.

If anyone has any opinions on the topic I am open to suggestions as I worry more than I’d like based on my Whoop whereas my Apple Watch makes me think I could be doing a lot worse. Meanwhile Whoop makes me so freaked out I’m considering beta blockers and pushing myself to exertion that takes days to recover from. If Oura Ring might be a step up is it time to break up with Whoop?

Categories
Biohacking Travel

Day 1984 and Whimsy Exhaustion Efforts

My sleep has been really poor as I’ve been jaunting about pretending to be a Eurotrash island hopper for a week or so. It’s both glorious but a little concerning as restorative sleep is crucial.

I’ve not gone as long and as hard as I have this late spring into summer since I was diagnosed with an autoimmune condition. A condition that seems to have potentially gone into remission.

And I’m trying not to worry. Something about late evening sunsets extending daylight, last week’s brilliant full moon lighting up the bay over Corfu all through the night, and the intense physical combination of swimming, talking, and eating communally has made it feel like I’ll can’t come down at night.

A late sunset over Greece turns to moonrise all too quickly leaving bright light at all turns

Last night I fell asleep as the sun was rising around 4am despite doing everything I could to be asleep earlier. I got in bed at 10pm with a boom, did vagal nerve exercises and breathing, took an OTC sleeping pill and a Benadryl, used only red lights past sunset, and wore earplugs and eye mask. I was doing it all right and my body’s response was all wrong.

So today I am aggressively injecting whimsy and exertion into my day with the hope that the risk of a flare in my conditions will be mitigated by the efficacy of my peptide protocol. My sleep was most disturbed up on my pulse off days so perhaps as I pulse back on into the week it will be better?

My logic is simple. Surely a messed up circadian rhythm is more dangerous than running around getting my steps, buying little treats at Flying Tiger (a forever travel notebook?!) and doing mat Pilates with travel bands. I couldn’t possibly flare myself with that kind of gentle whimsy exhaustion as my nervous system isn’t being pounded by training but extended gently with enjoyment.

Categories
Aesthetics Biohacking

Day 1975 and Pool Blues

Having decided to take a proper break I am going all in on making sure my body and mind get the proper signs and signifiers to just let go.

My first activity after a long mess of travel was to sleep for an impossibly long term. Whoop approvingly noted that my 11 hours and fifteen minutes was the longest I’d slept all month.

Low stress, a green recovery and plenty of hours of deep and REM sleep

I know they say you should stick to a regular sleep schedule. I generally have a firm bedtime just past 9:30pm and will sleep nine hours if I can.

But between conferences with evening events, long drives late into the night and an eight hour time difference I was carrying a sleep deficit that needed to be remedied.

My next order of business was equally taxing. I booked a spa appointment for a pedicure and a waxing. Fresh toes and a clean bikini line seemed like just the trick before laying out on a pool lounger or on a beach.

Not that anyone will be taking too close a look at me but I like feeling as if I’ve cared for the little details. Cosmetics and beauty are more of a way of appreciating my own body than adhere to someone else’s preferences.

I usually wear a very basic nude shade on my toes. I almost never do my hands but I appreciate a but I felt like I needed something more Ionian in quality or perhaps one of David Hockney’s pools.

A bit of pool blue lacquer

Normally I wouldn’t go quite so exotic on a pedicure as I’m much more basic in my preferences but if I have a chance to stare out at wine dark sea over an aquamarine pool I may as well make the most of the experience.

Blue on blue on blue as an example
Categories
Biohacking Chronic Disease Emotional Work

Day 1964 and We Are Who We Tell Ourselves To Be

No one likes a gloomy Gus. The downside of chronicling a chronic disease is the risk of seeing yourself as only the illness. Then other people will see you that way too. And so your identity becomes tied with only one of the many aspects of your life, and often the worst one at that.

Thankfully most humans are centered enough on themselves to forget the occasional gloomy reality from someone outside of their daily lives.

But repetition becomes reality, and eventually we are who we believe ourselves to be because others believe we are who we say we are too.

I came across a startup who is working on one of those classic swamp problems that seems like a great idea until you are well and truly stuck in the muck with bad incentives and no good solutions.

They want to use artificial intelligence to help patients with chronic diseases or complex medical cases to codify the many little details that might add up to the clues that crack the case.

By tracking subject inputs (unstructured data) and overlaying it with the other biometrics gathered by wearables and bloodwork they can help patients. I’ve seen hundreds of variants of this over the years.

Alas this new startup seems to have discovered a flywheel for marketing that relies on the problem I began today’s post with. We believe what we tell ourselves we are and eventually other people will believe what we believe.

They have chosen to market the app with illness influencers. Yes, that’s an actual category of influencer on TikTok and Instagram. Hot girls all have vague chronic illnesses these days haven’t you noticed?

And so a community forms and reinforces the identity that they all share. They are sick. And that makes them special. This gives life meaning. And did I mention lots of pretty girls have the most esoteric and exiting problems? Click to join now!

I find this to be a troubling, even borderline dangerous, approach to anchoring a community meant to help patients advocate better for care with their own personal health records. The incentive to remain with the privileged identity that makes them special only increases over time. Women reinforce themselves into intensely held identities all the time.

I thought about reaching out to them but I don’t want to get tangled with this problem. It is one for professionals which neither myself nor these founders are aside from everyone being a patient with chronic illness.

I do not wish for my identity to be the sick woman. The woman whose life was upended by a fertility protocol gone wrong in the early years of her marriage and in the prime of her life.

It’s one aspect of my reality. I do want others to be saved from my fate so I share it. But it is not who I am. Julie is not a sick woman. Julie is a complicated individual with a beautiful life and family and portfolio.

I had my own glimmer of hope today. Though I have repeated my troubles with my medical history I have never felt it was my identity. I’d happily give it up if I find a path to wellness. And I spend so much of my life trying to walk out of my troubles.

I have walked many side roads and pursued quixotic quests to find health. And some days I even find it. Today I got very good news on a fresh round of bloodwork. I’ve felt recently felt well thanks to some changes and an aggressive pursuit of new modalities.

I never want to get my hopes up too high as this effort has been a rollercoaster of ups and downs. But I won’t let go of the hope. The mere idea that this chapter could close and I might be a healthy woman is an identity I’d gladly welcome. And I’d wish that for anyone who takes on illness as a part of their identity.

Categories
Culture Medical

Day 1962 and Piss in a Can

Women are at a bit of a disadvantage to men when it comes to relieving ourselves. Yes I am talking about taking a piss.

From road trips to the backcountry, we’re forced to hike up our skirts (or worse shimmy down our pants) and aim our stream through squat & thrust such that it lands where we desire without soiling our garments or surrounding areas.

You might be wondering why I’ve got such a urological topic on my mind. And I might remind you it is not as if my writing lacks for lewd colloquialisms. Some readers may recall my viral hit “dick riding” so if you are inclined towards Freud we can have a chuckle about penis envy. And today it might even be true.

I am at the moment stuck in a literal can. I am nearing the end of a session of hyperbaric chamber oxygen therapy. To be specific, my 27th session on my second round of the therapy. My first round of it was forty sessions last fall. I am rounding the end of my second set in the next two weeks.

I happen to feel dare I say good this most recent round of HBOT. It’s a marvel what it can do for the lungs and for healing wounds. However I can’t credit my current upswing just to the oxygen I’m breathing in while under two atmospheres of pressure.

I have gone off my biological injection Bimzelx after a frightful year of infections despite its excellent ability to squash down inflammatory biometrics like CRP and sed rate. I’ve added in hormone therapy via testosterone and estradiol pellets (also my second round of them). The big change is that I am heading into my forth week of injecting experimental peptides.

Those had a hell of an adjustment, but seem to have done absolutely everything which was claimed by their champions in terms of anti-inflammatory benefits. Alas I am not sure if I should discuss them too much lest I get in trouble for being ahead of the insurance rackets. My doctor supervised and approved of them which should be good enough but one never knows.

That was a long way of saying that this combination of discontinuing old expensive therapies and adding in new cheaper less expensive treatments is adding up to a lot more mobility and capacity for me.

So today I went hiking and I lifted weights. Actual under the bar squats in my own rack like an actual human. The kind of active life that I’ve been desperately trying to regain for years.

So I’ve drank rather a lot of water today. More than perhaps I should have, as here I am in a pressurized can absolutely desperately wishing I could urinate.

Alas I am waiting the timer praying for decompression to arrive so I can relieve myself in a proper water closest. And thus we circle back to the penis envy.

It’s just that I have an empty can in here with me, it’s not out of the question I could find relief in that manner. Perhaps I’d have a better treatment. My heart rate is higher than I’d like and my bladder is unhappy about the pressure. But I’ve got no aim and little room for error.

Just imagine the smell. If urine smells in a well ventilated area like a roadside rest stop, just imagine how it might smell in a pressurized tube. It’s not a place you want to fart I’ll tell you that much. So wetting the blankets, upholstery, and my clothing in here would be a disaster. I’d never get the smell out.

So here I am laughing to myself about wanting to piss in a can. Maybe a good reminder to buy one of those hiking helper devices for women. You never know what kind of situation I may find myself in this summer if I can actually move my body comfortably again.

Categories
Biohacking Chronic Disease Medical

Day 1956 and Mother’s Day Message on Fertility

One of my mutuals Riva Tez wrote an exceptional read on her research into the American approach to fertility, and in particular, the maximalist hormone dosing that goes into programs like egg freezing, embryo freezing, and in vitro fertilization

It’s a topic on which I have written extensively, as I am one of the women who was hurt by the American approach of high hormone intensity to extract eggs efficiently. To make a long story short, it kicked off an autoimmune process in me that we’ve never fully gotten under control.

I think a lot about what the fertility industry did unknowingly to me and how it forever changed the course of my life. I went from thinking I had an insurance policy to being too ill to work within the space of a year. There is no recovery for me as of yet, even though I spend quite a bit of time and effort on my health.

If you were a millennial or Zoomer thinking about these procedures, I’d like you to consider reading her research and my personal experiences and educating yourself so you can make the most informed decision in your family planning.

Becoming a mother may have been an easy or unexpected decision for other generations of women, but we live in a very different time with very different technologies and different social constructs.

The more you know about your options, the more likely it is that you will find the right path for yourself without doing harm to your body in the process.

Categories
Chronic Disease

Day 1954 and Constriction

I am in so much pain today. The tendon bands that wrap from my sternum around my thoracic to my spine is badly inflamed. It’s hard to breathe smoothly when your own tendons are choking you out.

I had a fairly intense week what with the chaotic back and forth in the national policy debate around artificial intelligence. There have been swirling rumors and much back and forth. Nothing feels worse than seeing your own industry shoot itself in the foot as the stakes get bigger.

Last night Alex and I went for a long walk in the long hours of sunset. It felt as if every living creature from the ducks in our pond to horses out to pasture was taking in the perfect spring evening.

We stopped and chatted with each neighbor as being outside was on everyone’s agenda with the clear sky and warm weather. The joy of greenery had the undercurrent of concern. A dry winter will have its consequences. One of our neighbors who keeps horses mentions their hay costs had doubled from last year.

The worry and activity is taking its toll today. O am paying for all this activity. My activity costs are just as high as alfalfa. From phone calls and activism to sunset rambles through the foothills the costs are mounting. I am hurting from the good and the bad.

Categories
Biohacking Chronic Disease

Day 1950 and No Sleep in the Long Hours

I seem to have accidentally fallen into polyphasic sleep. Those experimental not for human consumption, long amino acid chains that everyone is doing n of 1 research with?

Well, my n of 1 experiment seems to be yielding the occasionally odd sleep pattern. I’ll be up early after having a night of sleep that feels more nap than fully weighed sleep hours.

Think out by 9pm and awake before dawn. I feel fine, so I pack in the full day till around 3pm when lunch digestion & the general slumps have me saying “maybe a short nap.”

I’ll find myself popping back up at 6pm with an eye on dinner. Another accidental siesta has stolen the afternoon hours back from the long evening hours to which I’d applied them.

I won’t have any trouble going to sleep on time early. This pattern seems to be applied to days where I have a lot of physical strain.

If I get in a workout, a long shower, extra walking time, and other physically demanding tasks in alongside my mental work I end up needing the nap and still fall asleep on time.

Categories
Biohacking Chronic Disease

Day 1948 and Rotational Work

I’ve been struggling with migraines since I was diagnosed with an autoimmune condition maybe six or so years ago.

I seem to be particularly struggling with them the last two months, as I work through an experiment with hormonal balancing and tapering off biologic autoimmune inhibitors.

And so I am rotating various different activities every day in the hopes of avoiding triggering a migraine, while still getting in adequate movement and exercise, as well as treatments within the biomechanical profile that I have put together with my doctors and helpful AIs.

If I stuff too many experiments into a given day, I’ll almost surely end up with a migraine. Even if I only do one sometimes I get unlucky. Red light and infrared are, of course, a classic way to trigger a migraine, so I try to do those carefully and when my heart rate is stable and low.

Of course, sometimes you need to get your heart rate up, and there’s nothing you can do but get your exercise and hope it won’t trigger a migraine. Afterwards exertion when I have a need to get down my heart rate, I’ll try to mix that with my hyperbaric oxygen chamber therapy.

I’m in the middle of my second round of HBOT treatments and enjoying seeing things like my VO2 max improve. I’ll be tempted to do something like go for a longer walk to test my lungs and trigger some neck compensation, and then I’ll be right back where I started with a migraine.

I’m always rotating something in and around keeping my brain from feeling the pressure of my body’s adjustments. There is no stable equilibrium just the constant pressure to find a new balance.

Categories
Aesthetics Biohacking

Day 1947 and Pretty Skills

I have been feeling rather sad. I am stymied on a few matters (family matters, visas for said family) and absolutely wretched over the state of artificial intelligence. The successes are in shadow and so I need to cheer up.

In an effort to do, I have a little group chat going for women interested in having friendly conversations about pretty skills. That’s right being pretty is a skill set. From nutrition and exercise to scalp care and makeup, looking good is a series of skills that can be taught.

If one feels like personal agency is a stretch, nothing is quite so fine a balm as learning a new skill. And might I suggest your personal appearance as an easy uplifting place to start?

Pulling together a beautiful look is not just some genetic privilege meted out by fate. Our presentation is something we sculpt with attitude, posture, movement, care and thousands of tricks and tips that add up to a lifetime of skills. Pretty is a skill set.

If you didn’t learn those from your mother or aunts or an elder sister. Or if you learned everything and want to pass it down. It’s safe to share and learn the skill sets you’ve picked up that make you feel pretty. It’s in your hands.

So if you want a space to learn more about those skills there are a bunch of women who want to be friends with you.