Saturday, April 24, 2010
Monday, May 25, 2009
Strawberry Tart with Rhubarb Marmalade
My first baking effort of the summer season came out well. Maybe it was all the phone calls to my friend the French chef about how to make the marmalade base with the rhubarb he gave me from his garden. Worry is apparently the best ingredient.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
The Lighter Side of Hell
Thank you for your support thru my latest adventure in medical trauma. Medical issues have stabilized, and I'm now at home recovering from my broken leg. After surgery, I spent 10 days in the Renown Rehabilitation Hospital to learn how to transfer in and out of my wheelchair (without the cartwheel double twist maneuver that broke my leg last month) and without putting any weight on my broken right leg. This seemed to me like asking water to to run uphill, and I was not all that optimistic. Somehow, I managed, and here I am one month out and now I'm allowed to put weight on my leg.
I did want to share with you a couple of lighter moments from the ordeal, because face it, it's only humor that sees us thru. First, transfers from the wheelchair back to bed should have been filmed for Saturday Night Live. Two women in their late twenties did a fireman style lift of my legs and arms, and it was pretty smooth until we all ended up on the bed, laughing and tangled up like a collapsed pyramid of cheerleaders. James' response, "How can I get involved in that?" Remember folks, we were not cheerleaders, but one poor person with a BROKEN LEG, and the other folks trained professionals in an ORTHOPEDIC WARD!
Then there were the taffy pulls. In the morning, an aid or a nurse would attempt to pull off the breathing mask that I wear while laying down. Many people wear these things for sleep apnea, and once awake, don't need them, so I guess it's an innocent enough mistake. For me, it's actual LIFE SUPPORT, though, so I'd appreciate at least being asked before taking it away from me. I'd get a death grip on it, and the nurse/aid pulling from the other side would stretch and stretch the elastic to the point of threatening facial injury should it snap. My face contorted in horror, she'd eventually give up.
Twice telling an RN that she had given me the wrong pain medication she responded, "Can't you take just this one anyway?"
Finally, kudos to my friend Mechele for staying overnight twice so James could get some rest. Mechele, a single mother of two who burns her candles at at four ends minimum, thought laying in the bed next to me and watching TV was fairly light duty, even when it seemed I woke her up several times an hour. She actually thanked me! I said, "Hey, glad I could help you this time, but if you think I'm breakin' my other leg so you can have time off....." Kicking back on a bed pillow, she retorted, "Enough, Lis, we all have to take one for the team!"
Mother Femur!
I did want to share with you a couple of lighter moments from the ordeal, because face it, it's only humor that sees us thru. First, transfers from the wheelchair back to bed should have been filmed for Saturday Night Live. Two women in their late twenties did a fireman style lift of my legs and arms, and it was pretty smooth until we all ended up on the bed, laughing and tangled up like a collapsed pyramid of cheerleaders. James' response, "How can I get involved in that?" Remember folks, we were not cheerleaders, but one poor person with a BROKEN LEG, and the other folks trained professionals in an ORTHOPEDIC WARD!
Then there were the taffy pulls. In the morning, an aid or a nurse would attempt to pull off the breathing mask that I wear while laying down. Many people wear these things for sleep apnea, and once awake, don't need them, so I guess it's an innocent enough mistake. For me, it's actual LIFE SUPPORT, though, so I'd appreciate at least being asked before taking it away from me. I'd get a death grip on it, and the nurse/aid pulling from the other side would stretch and stretch the elastic to the point of threatening facial injury should it snap. My face contorted in horror, she'd eventually give up.
Twice telling an RN that she had given me the wrong pain medication she responded, "Can't you take just this one anyway?"
Finally, kudos to my friend Mechele for staying overnight twice so James could get some rest. Mechele, a single mother of two who burns her candles at at four ends minimum, thought laying in the bed next to me and watching TV was fairly light duty, even when it seemed I woke her up several times an hour. She actually thanked me! I said, "Hey, glad I could help you this time, but if you think I'm breakin' my other leg so you can have time off....." Kicking back on a bed pillow, she retorted, "Enough, Lis, we all have to take one for the team!"
Mother Femur!
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Miracle on Costco Street
No kidding, I seriously met Mr. Claus at Costco the other day! The meeting was so charming, I just had to tell you.
I was reaching into a bin of rolled-up, all-weather rugs when I realized I had no hope of hoisting one them out of there. I looked up, and there was a man with a white beard and shall we say, a respectable girth passing by me. He came near when I asked for help and I saw the name "John Claus" on his Costco employee badge. "Is your name seriously Mr. Claus, or are you just having some fun with the holidays?"
He bowed slightly, and with a voice soaked in kindness he replied, "I, John Nicholas Claus the Second, am at your service, my little angel."
Well, too bad I didn't have my black patent leather mary janes on, I would have curtsied. "Pleasure to meet you, Santa."
Friday, November 14, 2008
The Roar of Agony
Luckily, I've only heard it twice since we've moved into this house 3+ years ago. It's a guttural sound that James makes when he wants me to believe that I have mortally wounded him. It's not necessarily loud, but I call it a roar because it's powerful. He gets his message across.
The first roar of agony was prompted by a horrific odor that greeted James once as he entered the house through the garage. Even though I had opened the sliding glass door and turned on the fans, I could not get rid of the smell of burnt garage door remote control that I had accidentally melted in the microwave. (I can explain! But I won't right now.) Before the door shut behind him, he roared, "WHAT'S THAT SMELL?!!" and the real fun ensued as I tried to answer amidst his expressions of excruciating revulsion, disgust, and disbelief.
So recently we were having our ongoing love/hate discussion about This American Life as it came on the radio. James has this uncanny timing such that he invariably misses the hysterically funny episodes and tunes in attentively when something dark and tragic is broadcast. Consequently, we always argue about listening to this show. Two weekends ago, I insisted and James acquiesced. A moment later, someone on the radio related a story about watching his mother struggle to breathe after she had been removed from a respirator used during her bladder cancer surgery.
In a fit of a PTSD flashback from a similar experience of our own, James screamed, "LIIIIISSAAAAAAAH!" - a Ricky Ricardo-type verbal explosion that nearly blasted me out of my power chair.
"Ok, Okay! I won't ask you again to have your fingernails pulled out one by one, but I happen to like that show."
The first roar of agony was prompted by a horrific odor that greeted James once as he entered the house through the garage. Even though I had opened the sliding glass door and turned on the fans, I could not get rid of the smell of burnt garage door remote control that I had accidentally melted in the microwave. (I can explain! But I won't right now.) Before the door shut behind him, he roared, "WHAT'S THAT SMELL?!!" and the real fun ensued as I tried to answer amidst his expressions of excruciating revulsion, disgust, and disbelief.
So recently we were having our ongoing love/hate discussion about This American Life as it came on the radio. James has this uncanny timing such that he invariably misses the hysterically funny episodes and tunes in attentively when something dark and tragic is broadcast. Consequently, we always argue about listening to this show. Two weekends ago, I insisted and James acquiesced. A moment later, someone on the radio related a story about watching his mother struggle to breathe after she had been removed from a respirator used during her bladder cancer surgery.
In a fit of a PTSD flashback from a similar experience of our own, James screamed, "LIIIIISSAAAAAAAH!" - a Ricky Ricardo-type verbal explosion that nearly blasted me out of my power chair.
"Ok, Okay! I won't ask you again to have your fingernails pulled out one by one, but I happen to like that show."
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
"...all piety and no sense."
Isn't that the perfect description of Sarah Palin? It's part of one of my favorite passages from The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows. The passage goes on to describe how an irrational woman causes unnecessary and cruel terror in children with her inflammatory remarks as they prepare to be separated from their parents. The heroine of the novel responds like this:
"...she got a look on her that would turn the devil to stone, and then she slapped Adelaide right across the face - nice and sharp, so her head wobbled on her shoulders - and hauled her over to the door, shoved her out, and locked it."
Amen.
"...she got a look on her that would turn the devil to stone, and then she slapped Adelaide right across the face - nice and sharp, so her head wobbled on her shoulders - and hauled her over to the door, shoved her out, and locked it."
Amen.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
If You Like Storytelling...
Well, let me tell you something....it's my new favorite source of entertainment. So favorite, in fact, I can't stop asking James, "Honey, do ya wanna listen to The Moth podcast?"
I don't know why this usually makes him groan, because he always likes it when he does give in and listen. If you like storytelling and storylistening, You'll love The Moth, too.
It was on Ira Glass' This American Life, that I first heard a Moth story so hilarious I had to track it down to learn more. Yes, I said something was "hilarious" on This American Life. (James and I both quite frequently find that program more than just a little dysphoric. The topics are often very somber and even tragic, yet, I find it more and more compelling, much to James' consternation.) (Nice segue to the Moth, Lisa!)
Founded in New York City, the Moth was created by a member of group of folks who used to gather on someone's screened porch somewhere in the South to tell stories. A hole in the screen provided entry to a moth. The storytellers thought the characters of their stories were drawn to adventure, or certain people, or whatever the theme like a moth to flame. Hence, the name. If you're a friend of mine, you're probably going to find out about it the next time I give you a gift CD, otherwise, you can find out more about it on their website, which offers free subscription to podcasts.
Check it out and tell me what you think.
I don't know why this usually makes him groan, because he always likes it when he does give in and listen. If you like storytelling and storylistening, You'll love The Moth, too.
It was on Ira Glass' This American Life, that I first heard a Moth story so hilarious I had to track it down to learn more. Yes, I said something was "hilarious" on This American Life. (James and I both quite frequently find that program more than just a little dysphoric. The topics are often very somber and even tragic, yet, I find it more and more compelling, much to James' consternation.) (Nice segue to the Moth, Lisa!)
Founded in New York City, the Moth was created by a member of group of folks who used to gather on someone's screened porch somewhere in the South to tell stories. A hole in the screen provided entry to a moth. The storytellers thought the characters of their stories were drawn to adventure, or certain people, or whatever the theme like a moth to flame. Hence, the name. If you're a friend of mine, you're probably going to find out about it the next time I give you a gift CD, otherwise, you can find out more about it on their website, which offers free subscription to podcasts.
Check it out and tell me what you think.
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