This is the third in the series of major wellness harms perpetrated on employees by wellness vendors and indifferent employers. These narratives have been painstakingly compiled, edited only lightly, and with no detail omitted other than the victim’s name and employer. I won’t tell you who the perps are yet, other than to say that the vendors I have consistently noted to be the best — American Institute of Preventive Medicine, Health Advocate, HealthCheck360, It Starts with Me, Limeade, Redbrick, SelfHelpWorks, Sterling, Sonic Boom, Sustainable Health Index, US Health Centers, US Preventive Medicine — are not among them. 

See:

• Part 1: Recovering executive with anorexia nervosa begs not to be weighed…DENIED
• Part 2: Recovering technologist with bulimia told to “fit into his skinny jeans”

Mary

I used to work for a county health program that established a workplace wellness program. One cold January morning, I returned to work for the first time in nearly eight weeks. I had taken a leave of absence after a suicide attempt and inpatient treatment for chronic depression and anorexia. I had gained a few pounds and my depression had stabilized, and I was looking forward to returning to work I found meaningful.

But when I walked in the door, I was inundated with signs about our workplace weight loss contest—a “Biggest Loser”-style competition. For someone who was struggling desperately to gain weight, this was nothing less than an affront. Signs told me that “Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.” Besides being the same slogans plastered all over the anorexia-enabling websites I used to visit, I had spent the past decade feeling exactly how skinny could make you feel—miserable enough to complete a near-lethal overdose.

I pulled my chin up, set my things down at my desk and walked into the break room for a hot cup of coffee. There, on a big sheet of blue posterboard, was a tally of how much weight everyone had lost. Veronica in accounts receivable had already lost 3.4 pounds. Then, flooding in my inbox were the emails encouraging us to only eat half our lunch, and to try to sneak in an extra workout during our lunch break. Never mind that these behaviors were exactly what had landed me in the hospital. Now, I had a prescribed diet developed in consultation with my dietitian.

For several months, I tried to grin and bear it, but eventually, the madness was just too much. I couldn’t bear the meetings about how good steamed broccoli was. I couldn’t stand working in an external environment that was, quite possibly, more toxic than the internal chatter I endured all day. The poster listing everyone’s weight loss statistics was removed upon my request, but the fact remained that the workplace wellness program had created an environment that was anything but healthy.  I had to quit my job.

Perhaps my experience is an unavoidable side effect of a war against obesity that some have determined should be won at all costs (and regardless of strong evidence that existing wellness programs don’t work).

But when you consider that around one in 20 Americans will struggle with an eating disorder at some point in his or her lifetime, that’s a lot of collateral damage.

This is the second in a series of first-person narratives of harms caused by wellness vendors. These narratives have been painstakingly compiled, unretouched except for formatting, and with no detail omitted other than the victim’s name and employer. I won’t tell you who the perps are yet, other than to say that the vendors I have consistently noted to be the best — American Institute of Preventive Medicine, Health Advocate, HealthCheck360, It Starts with Me, Limeade, Redbrick, SelfHelpWorks, Sterling, Sonic Boom, Sustainable Health Index, US Preventive Medicine — are not among them. 

John

I’m 37 and have put a lot of work into recovering from bulimia.  I have been in treatment for bulimia for 12 years.  I see a therapist, a doctor specializing in eating disorders, and a psychiatrist.

For the last five years, I’ve worked at a technology company.  I’ve noticed that every year, their “wellness program” has become more and more triggering, as it has become increasingly tied to health biometrics and “rewards” on my paycheck.  The “rewards” for taking answering the health risk assessment, taking various biometric tests, and meeting certain health outcomes are so significant that I felt I had to participate.  These rewards now come to a total of $2470 per year for taking the tests and meeting all of the health targets.  With a family and a child in day care, I cannot afford to forego such a large amount of money.

A couple of years ago, the wellness program started to require that employees’ weight, triglycerides, and blood pressure be checked. These biometric screenings happen every year, and I dread it. If my body mass index does not fall into what the program considers “normal,” then I don’t get a “reward” on my paycheck—or, to put it another way, I get penalized.  If I forego even one part of the biometric screens, such as the weight check, I lose the reward for all of the screenings.   In addition, the program’s instructions for employees, including to keep their meal portions “as small as possible” (to “fit into your skinny jeans”) are inconsistent with and undermine all the work that I have done to overcome my disability.

The wellness program allows employees to have their own physicians perform the screenings.  When my doctor heard about the screenings, he was incredulous.  He indicated that, out of concern for my health, he did not want me to participate in these tests.  But I felt compelled to do so given the large sum at stake.  My doctor wrote a letter explaining that having me step on a scale and having my weight read out loud would be extremely damaging.  After three months of requests and negotiations, I was ultimately able to get the program to permit me to apply for the incentive without my doctor filling out the screening form (a special “manual process” was used), but this process was extraordinarily stressful and I have no assurance that I will be permitted to do this in the future.  I was the first person who was able to forego the screening without losing the incentive—and to my knowledge, the only person.  And guess what? It’s time to do the entire thing again for this year’s screening!

Part 1 can be found here.

This begins a series of first-person narratives of harms caused by wellness vendors. These narratives have been painstakingly compiled, unretouched except for formatting, and with no detail omitted other than the victim’s name and employer. I won’t tell you who the perps are yet, other than to say that the vendors I have consistently noted to be the best — American Institute of Preventive Medicine, Health Advocate, HealthCheck360, It Starts with Me, Limeade, Redbrick, SelfHelpWorks, Sterling, Sonic Boom, Sustainable Health Index, US Preventive Medicine — are not among them. 

Jane

I am a corporate executive in a Fortune 500 company.  My employer operates a wellness program.  Every year, as part of that program, we are required either to have blood drawn and have our weight, height, blood pressure and other things measured or contribute more toward our health insurance.  This testing is done on site at the workplace.

I have anorexia.  I have been in treatment for four years.  Over the years I have built a relationship with my dietician, my therapist, my psychiatrist, and my medical doctor.  Their familiarity with my needs, including what helps and what triggers the symptoms of my disability, is critical to ensuring that I receive effective treatment.

In contrast, the wellness program at my workplace is operated by people who have no familiarity with my particular needs and no knowledge of how to address them.  Among other things, the program requires employees to undergo weight-related screenings administered in a manner that undermined the treatment regimen carefully designed by my treating professionals and resulted in my relapse and admission to an intensive outpatient treatment program.

I would never have participated in this wellness program of my own accord, but due to the large financial incentives to participate, I felt like I had no choice but to do so.  When I found out that the wellness program required me to be weighed, I told my dietician, who was extremely concerned.  She wrote a letter indicating that I was receiving intensive nutrition therapy with her and that I should not be weighed or have my body mass index measured by the program, as that would be detrimental to the progress that I had made under her care.

The wellness program nurse read the letter but proceeded to weigh me and, despite my stepping on the scale backward so I would not see my weight, she announced how much I weighed and what my body mass index was.  She remarked that “it wouldn’t hurt you to enroll in our healthy eating program.”  This is precisely the type of trigger that my treatment – and the treatment of people with similar eating disorders – is designed to avoid.  She was telling me I was fat—exactly what I needed to hear to stop eating again.

After this incident, I stopped eating for two weeks and ultimately ended up in an intensive outpatient treatment program.  My dietitian was furious about the damage caused by the wellness program.

I am dreading participating in the wellness program again this year.  I am uncomfortable about having to tell my employer about my eating disorder – a very personal matter—and I do not want to repeat the experience of questions and screening that are counterproductive to my treatment.  If I don’t participate, however, I will have to pay an additional $750.00 for my health insurance, so I cannot afford to avoid it.