I wanted to take a day off and asked my supervisor for permission. He told me he would approve it if I went to work out with him and the group at R.W. Beckett’s gym. I had been wanting to go to the gym, so I obliged.
R.W. Beckett is a sibling corporation of Beckett Gas. The building resides just a few minutes via car from Beckett Gas. Inside the manufacturing plant, there is a gym with a lot of space and equipment. When I arrived, there was a group of people there and my supervisor at the time was the one leading the workout session.
We stood in a circle and went through a series of physically demanding workouts. I hadn’t worked out in a long time, and I knew my body. I knew before we even started and had told my boss that I may need to take a few breaks throughout the session. I remember about half-way through I felt like I had given it my all and my body was about to collapse on me. I kneeled down to take a break and catch my breath, and multiple people pushed for me to stand back up and keep going.
To my amazement, I was able to keep going. The feeling of the lactic acid buildup in my body subsided and was tolerable. This happened multiple times before the workout was finished.
By time the workout was over, I had kept up with the group who works out regularly. I wasn’t able to think clearly and had a hard time keeping my balance. Tunnel vision started to set in. I clearly remember exiting the building and during the walk to my vehicle, I suddenly felt like I had come down with the flu.
When I got home, the tunnel vision and the flu-like feeling didn’t go away. Not after 30 minutes, nor 60 minutes. My body felt impossible to move and even sitting at my computer desk making the small movements with my hands to use my keyboard and mouse was difficult.
The next day, every part of me wanted to call off of work. In fear of being disciplined, I used every bit of power I had in my brain to command my body into work. It was during this first shift that I noticed my urine was the color of black coffee. The contrast between the white porcelain of the urinals and the black color of my stream was scary. I made it through the shift, but I started researching what could cause the change in my urine color.
I scheduled an appointment to be seen by a doctor, but I don’t remember where exactly. I had my mother take me. I felt like I was dying, and my vision had a faint static to it that didn’t go away for a few days.
After I was healed, I let my boss know what had happened. Unfortunately, my boss made a joke out of it. To other colleagues, he would refer to me as “Rhabdo boy”. This should have been the time where I started looking for another job. I would say this is the first example of the abuse I suffered in the workplace from a superior. It wouldn’t be the last.