Sickroom Supplies, Part 2.... The Hospital

You may have read my other story called "Sickroom Supplies" from last year when I was home with the flu. This time, I'm writing from a hospital bed in Kaiser Richmond ICU with an IV port on the back of each hand, and an oxygen monitor attached to my middle finger. It lights up the end of my finger just like ET's, only red instead of green. I think the nurses may have heard my not-so-original quip about "ET phone home" a few times before. They're getting used to my sense of humor, though, since I've been here now, for almost 4 days.

When my husband and I decided it was time to take me to the emergency room for repeated dizzy spells (I won't go in to details), we grabbed a couple of things to help pass the time. Both of us knew that a visit to the ER could involve a great deal of waiting, so Doug first grabbed the morning newspaper so he could be assured of his daily Jumble fix. There would also be a couple of crosswords in there; one for each of us, and a Sudoku or Cryptogram if I got desperate, depending on my condition. I also grabbed a few sheets from our New York Times calendar that has a page with a crossword on it for each day. We mainly just do Monday through Wednesday, since they get harder and harder through the week. I always have a few in my purse in case of a "crossword emergency".

Turned out it was a good thing that we went to the ER, since it was shown that my dizzy spells happened whenever my heart paused, or STOPPED for 3-6 seconds. I had been having these faint feelings since January, but didn't take them seriously, blaming them on dehydration or inner ear problems. My advice to everyone reading this is to not ignore dizzy spells. .....So that's how I ended up in the intensive care unit. At this time in my life, and at least for this emergency, I seem to be one of the younger, and relatively healthy ones in the ICU. Most of the patients in the other rooms need more constant care, such as turning them so they don't get bedsores. The person in the next room had some sort of breathing problem, and every time she coughed, the machine she was attached to made a sound not unlike the horn on a taco truck. She wasn't conscious, but I think if I was, I'd be trying to figure out how to cough to make a tune. (Sorry, that wasn't very nice.)

As for me, I feel pretty well between the "dizzy spells". They seem to pass over me and leave me feeling fine afterwards. Because I felt so fine, Doug and I made a list of things that would keep me entertained during my hospital stay. He thought he wanted to stay with me all night in one of those recliner chair beds, but one of the nurses discouraged him with tales of all the night noises, alarms and beeps that you shouldn't have to hear unless you had to. So, convinced that I would be well taken care of, he left with a promise to return in the morning with my supplies.

There really wasn't a very long list. My iPhone was almost out of battery, so he had to bring the charger so I could communicate with friends and relatives that were outside the 510 area code (the only ones that I could call from the bedside phone). Also, the iPhone isn't just a phone. I'm figuring out that when the din of the hospital is so loud, I can put on the Hawaiian music or George Winston station on Pandora Radio and pretend I'm in a spa. I can text our kids and check email, and even Tweet! When I can't go to sleep and want a story read to me, I can listen to Podcasts of Garrison Keillor doing his daily Writer's Almanac stories and poems with his soothing voice. It's like a bundle of goodies to soothe a person cooped up.
I still love to read a real book though. Even though I had read it before, I asked for my copy of Bill Bryson's "A Walk in the Woods". We entertained each other the next day by reading aloud from it. One of the sentences couldn't be completed because I was laughing so hard, and Doug took the book from me, finished the phrase, and then got stuck, just as I did, both of us with tears rolling down our cheeks. Isn't it wonderful when a writer can communicate so well?

On a calmer note, I chose a book about settlers in Washington state, "The Living", by Annie Dillard. We're taking turns reading that one, since it's the history of the area where Doug was born, in Snohomish county.
Actually high on the requests were my favorite pens, a Bic 4-color one, and another that I got from an art supply store that has 6 (count 'em! 6!) colors of ink, plus a pencil. These are for crosswords. I bought a bunch of these pens when we retired, so we could always find one. We look like Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee, sitting in a restaurant doing a crossword together, each with our own color ink. Also, if a letter is changed, it goes in a different color, or if we cheat and look at an answer, it's in another shade yet!

Evidently, Kaiser is trying to be classy and gives each patient what looks like a little blue voile "spa" bag with all the grooming products one might need, including ear plugs and a sleep mask that has helped me through most nights, and a nice Kaiser "Thrive" shopping bag with fruits and vegetables on it, rather than the usual medicinal plastic bags to take your "parting gifts" home in. My mother-in-law, Helen would have said they were "fadink", her word for fancy. All I had to ask for from home was deodorant and jammy bottoms to hide my bottom when visitors come.

Some of the nurses have commented that they've never seen anyone in ICU sitting up in bed using a laptop, but that was one of my requests. I love checking on how many folks have read my stories and where in the world they live. I've been handing out my new cards printed lately with my blog address, to anyone who will take one, and I reminded myself of how Mr Dowd (Jimmy Stewart) gave everyone his card in the great old movie "Harvey".

Since I'm mostly here to monitor my heart, and figure out how to control its irregular beats (atrial fibrillation), I feel pretty well, surprisingly, even though my heart pauses sometimes, every 10 or 15 minutes. I have my share of IV ports, blood draws and shots in the tummy (heparin for anti-coagulation). It's not comfortable or as if I'm on vacation. If I ever got out of bed to walk the 3 steps to the toilet, I had to be unleashed from the short cords monitoring BP and oxygen. The very patient, knowledgeable nurses made it all bearable. One of them visited with me one night before she got off, and laughed so hard with me, as we both told each other jokes we've heard Paula Poundstone say and recounted our favorite stories from Garrison Keillor to each other. I ended up leaving the Bill Bryson book for her so she could laugh some more. It's true about laughter being the best medicine.

Late on the fourth day, a medicine has been found to regulate my heart, and I get to thankfully, go home tomorrow. I have a short list to make me happy when I get home. A long shower, a nap in our own bed, a nice, ripe, Santa Rosa plum off my tree, and a piece of Dove chocolate. Mmmm.   Home sweet home.

I've Been Dreaming About Food Lately

In these last months of 2013, I've awoken with dreams in my head of different foods that I crave for the rest of the day. The only solution to getting them out of my mind is to let myself eat that food. The reason this becomes such a dramatic decision in my life, is that my husband and I have been "watching our weight" for over six years, counting calories and points.....sometimes losing. But for the last 6 months or so I've been watching my weight and my waistline increase. Therefore, denying myself baked goods has been a habit that I've accepted, and thought I didn't even care about.

Then came the dream about Angel Food Cake. At this point I don't even remember the dream, except that my Mom was baking the cake in her old kitchen from my childhood. As my alarm went off in the morning I could still smell the sweet aroma. The thought of the sponginess of the cake that I used to squeeze between my fingers when I was little became an obsession, and I bought a nice round one at the bakery. There was a farmers' market that day and they had the most luscious huge boysenberries and strawberries. I had a plan to satisfy my craving by sharing with grand kids that were scheduled to come over for a couple of hours.
Just when the first little one stated, "Grandma, I'm hungry!" I was ready with an answer... "Well, have you ever had Angel Food Cake?" She said," I Love Angel Food Cake!" "So do I!" Said the 3 year old, (even though I'm not sure he'd ever tasted it.)
I had already cut up the strawberries and stirred in some sugar, and they and the sugared boysenberries were put in separate red glass bowls. The kids helped me put it all on the table,  and it was a free-for-all as everyone had a slice of the plain, but luscious cake, covered with berries and covered with whipped cream squirted from a container. "I need more whipped cream on mine. I can still see a strawberry over here!" Seconds were had by some, and it was so satisfying, and not that bad for a lunch at Grandma's.

A few nights later I dreamt of my mother- and father-in-law, (Tutu and Grandpa), in their old apartment in Richmond, baking sugar cookies together. they made the best, lightest and most crispy sugar cookies ever. They made the dough, and then formed 1 inch balls with it, rolled the balls in a bowl of sugar, and squished the ball flat with the bottom of a glass that had also been dipped in sugar. Then they sprinkled even more sugar on top before baking. We all remember them working together as a friendly team in the kitchen. They were called "Helen Z's Sugar Cookies", and I used to have the recipe written in Tutu's handwriting, in my recipe file. Soon after breakfast, I was disappointed to not find it there, but found what was probably the same one in my "Joy of Cooking" book. (see Sugar Drop Cookies with Oil).
Once again giving in to my craving, I took a trip to Trader Joe's to buy some fresh flour and sugar. This was a real commitment to baking something. My mouth was starting to water at the thought of a cup of coffee with one of those cookies. Then I spotted semi-sweet chocolate chunks, a substitute for chocolate chips. I remember how everyone used to love my chocolate chip cookies that I made when I was a teenager. I vowed to make both of these cookies before the year is up.... only when there are plenty of people to share them with...... just so I could get my fill.
When I got home, it turned out that one granddaughter was visiting, so I thought I'd use this as a grandmotherly thing to do, and invited her to help me. Sometimes it seems that events like this can be rather nerve wracking for me. Standing on a chair next to the counter, the five year old kept insisting on pouring each measured ingredient into the bowl herself. I set the the bowl down in to the sink to minimize mess. She stirred the flour and made designs in it before slapping the spoon into it so it poofed all over. She proved to my amazement, though that she knew how to crack an egg. Her cookie dough balls kept growing in size and were re-dipped into the sugar extra times. When it came time to sprinkle the extra sugar on the cookies, I found some red and green colored sugar to make it look Christmasy. Before I knew it, the sprinkling turned out to be more of a "dump". I could hear myself being kind of anal about "we have to make sure that all this sugar doesn't stay on the pan... it might burn.... look I'll just brush it off". Bad Grandma. The first batch of cookies actually came out great. I felt I needed alone time though, so I had her hang some ornaments on the tree and do an art project while I kept cranking out more pan fulls.

One other morning, I awoke thinking about a wonderful sweet bread that my manager used to bring in to share with everyone. I had spotted the Mexican bakery some time ago, where "Senorita Bread" is their specialty, The Star Bakery in San Pablo, CA. While out doing last minute things for Christmas, I told my husband I was having another craving. We agreed to get it over with and joined people in line waiting for the next batch to come out of the oven. The aroma was heavenly. Senorita Bread is sold in boxes, the smallest having 15 pieces. We decided that was enough for our household. Each piece of hot, soft, leavened white bread is covered with butter and sugar. I think there is even a piece of butter inside each little bread that continues to melt, making the tiny loaves at the bottom extra buttery and sugary. Oh, I love it so! There is a warning to each buyer that the bread is very hot, don't eat it in the car, since melted butter might get on your clothes. We heeded the warning and waited to share this luscious, vein-clogging treat at home. Just two or three for me, and I checked that temptation off my list.

Yesterday, we had a "little Christmas" for one of the families who were out of town and didn't get to open their gifts yet. I had yet to make my chocolate chunk cookies. Time was running out. It's already December 30, and I saw this as a good opportunity to let everyone get fat with me. The secret of my old recipe is that I use Crisco shortening instead of butter. The old Toll House recipe on the chocolate chip package back in the 60's called for that. Butter, which is now recommended, just doesn't do the trick, and everyone always liked mine best.
When everyone arrived, the house smelled wonderful, with the fresh cookies and the scent of the Christmas tree. The semi-sweet chocolate chunks were a treat, since they provided more dense chocolate. Then my husband said, how about giving your secret recipe away? I did, but I kind of wish I hadn't, since I swear I could read their minds about hydrogenated fats and preservatives. Oh well, we all agreed. They taste yummy, and we don't eat like this everyday.

So now I'm in training for the New Year of 2014. The "My Fitness Pal" app on my iPhone has been notified of my new weight. It's a nice app that helps you count calories and how much exercise you've done, and shares your progress with other friends that are using it. And, did I mention? It's free! I can hardly wait to input that we'll be going to our aquatic fitness class on Thursday!
Now that my cravings have been sated, I'm ready for my usual manic first week of the year. I'll pamper myself this year with good health and creativity. How about you?

The Velocity of a Cough

"You should gargle with salt water". I can still hear my mother's voice in my head after all these years. I've been reminded more recently, since after hearing me cough off and on through the night, I heard my husband's sleepy voice giving the remedy high praise. "I really think it's helped me dodge the flu that you have darling. I swear by it."

I don't know why I fight gargling. Finally giving in, I added the salt to some warm water, and gargled. First, I tried to gargle making it sound like the "Star-Spangled Banner", since that was my way of encouraging my kids to get the salty solution all around the uvula and throat. (Either that, or they'd laugh trying).

It didn't work for me, though. Once the water hit the back of my throat, it set me off with such a cough that a Blast of water came flying out of my mouth that covered the 3 by 4 foot mirror over the sink with salty drops. I was shocked at the force of a cough!

The next morning, while brushing my teeth, another creeper cough surprised me while I was brushing my teeth, (perhaps my gentle readers don't want to hear this), with "shock and awe", toothpaste and water were sprayed all over the aforementioned mirror and on my arms. Upon closer investigation a snotty, green, "luggie" had been "hacked" out and projected by the cough onto my arm! It was disgusting! (Hence the warning) 

The next day, my doctor prescribed an inhaler for me. The pharmacist instructed me to exhale as much as I could, and then inhale while squirting the mist into my mouth and try to then hold my breath. .... Now this was difficult, since inhaling instigates a tickle in the back of my throat lately, and as hard as I tried, the cough would burst out like I was a stoner trying to hold in smoke from a hash pipe. (as seen in movies, of course)
Again I wondered at the velocity of this cough that was expelled  from my body with such power!

So of course, I went to Google.
Evidently I'm not the first person to wonder about this. The explanation that was easiest for me to understand was written by Richard S. Irwin, MD, FCCP. He said "during vigorous coughing, expiratory velocities of up to 500 miles per hour may be generated."
Well, I'm just saying...... Cover your mouth when you cough! Do it the new approved way, by coughing into your elbow. Even our grandkids know how to do that.
Gesundheit

Moon Over My Waistline

Today I thought of a silver haired lady that we used to see gardening outside her apartment house in El Cerrito. The corner was a busy one, and most times she'd be there taking really good care of her hedges with an old-fashioned hedge clipper. Unfortunately, more often than not, when she bent over, her loosely banded sweatpants revealed her butt crack. I thought, "She must know that she is flashing everyone who is  sitting, waiting for the  light", but year after year she kept putting in her time on her corner lot, mooning everyone who passed.

Unfortunately, the reason I thought of the lady, (she, I'm sure is no longer with us), was because when I was gardening today, I think I resembled her. We had just dug all the weeds out of our raised bed, and chucked them into a couple of piles. I wheeled the green bin the city gives us on to the sidewalk, and started bending over repeatedly to pick up the weeds and chuck them over the rock wall into the bin. My pants have had a harder and harder time remaining on my so-called waist of late. It was the end of the day, and this was the last thing I had to do. I was tired of hitching up my pants, and I'm sure I may have flashed someone! (Well, there wasn't anyone around, but if they had been there, they would have been flashed.)

This whole observation may seem silly, but I found out the other day, why my pants don't stay on my waist..... I  took my measurements. Without confessing the actual data, suffice it to say that my chest measurement was only ONE INCH MORE than my waist OR my hips! This was an eye opener. Something to be dealt with.

We HAVE just come back from a vacation, but this isn't anything new. Sitting with a laptop on the bed and watching TV, and being less active has an effect on our bellies. Our bellies are also important for our back health, as I've been told by my physical therapist, and I have known, but not paid attention.

So, with instructions that I have been given for exercises, a regime that has been suggested to me for cleansing toxins, I'm on a mission to be healthier in my retirement. My mission is to not have to hitch up my pants every 5 minutes while gardening.

In the meantime however, I'm going to drag out my old pair of overalls...