Monthly Book Report: Delicious! by Ruth Reichl

Like every other cook in the world, I have read a good deal about Ruth Reichl and here and there, I’ve read Reichl herself, in Gourmet and elsewhere.  I’ve enjoyed her humor and joy in the day-to-day and I’ve always admired her appreciation of a well-cooked meal.  I picked up Delicious! from the library and it was a fun read as I transitioned from summer into the start of school.  

It’s the story of a young woman, Billie, who lands a dream job at Delicious magazine in NYC.  Just as Billie is settling into this quirky workplace, the magazine suddenly shuts down.  The rest of the novel is devoted to Billie finding her way forward, solving a mystery in the letter archives at Delicious and finding her self along the way.  

The story was filled with quirky - but believable - characters and I could feel the happy ending that I always enjoy in a book.  I worried that the recipes and food would be too much for me to enjoy as I am trying to lose weight so I can have a hip replacement, but that turned out not to be the case.  It was a happy little read and I’ll be back for more of Reichl’s work.

The Beauty of Pain Management

On Tuesday, I saw a doctor whose specialty is pain management.  God bless her.  She’s the first medical professional I've seen since this hip journey began who is not just decent instead of being an asshole but went out of her way to be kind and caring while helping me to manage this shit show.  Thanks to her, I’ve been able to get some real rest at night.  We’re working toward a solution to help with pain during the day.  She has an e-mail and actually responds to questions.  She has a plan and a backup plan. 

So I’ve got a start on pain management as I work toward qualifying for surgery.  Thanks to improved pain management, I’ve got enough emotional bandwidth to look for surgeons willing to operate on a fat lady and I've got an appointment on that front.

Progress.

Meanwhile, Here at the Appliance Graveyard

Last Fall, when the seals on the fridge began to fail and then the handle broke off, a new refrigerator became a priority.  T struggled with our stove and talked me into a new stove as well.  Those arrived in September and both were nice - if pricey - additions to my world. *In 2023, one-by- one, nearly all of the remaining appliances at Sassafras House went on strike.  In late July, the hot water heater failed.  As it was nearly 15 years old, this was an understandable development.  Within 48 hours, a new one was installed.  In late August, the microwave began to make alarming sounds that indicated that it too had reached its term limit.  A new one was purchased and installed (the latter step was rather a customer service nightmare, but now that it’s done, my frustration from the experience is fading). *I was no sooner enjoying the new microwave, when the washer failed to drain water consistently and began to sound like a freight train was rolling through the basement.  Uh-oh. I called for repair, which sought to replace the transmission.  Alas, the whole internal mechanism had frozen.  The new transmission could not be installed.  I heard taps play in the background as the repairman drove away and I headed out in search of a new washer.  The new washer was installed last Saturday and it washes like a dream.  The dryer is - I hope - prepared to live a few more years.  At least I hope so, because my appliance budget is tapped out (and then some!).

A Loathing Strategy

My most recent foray into the world of medicine has been difficult and harrowing.  I need a replacement hip because mine is a disaster.  Because medicine uses the outdated and unhelpful BMI standard to set boundaries for such surgeries, I must lose weight before I can have the surgery.   There is a *a lot* about this that is frustrating, including the fact that I am dealing with a pretty high level of pain.  To tell a patient “I know you’re miserable but no help is available” requires a great deal of bed side manner to not seem like a total dick.  Suffice it to say, I do not have that doctor.  And the fact that I will remain in pain until I meet an arbitrary number on a discredited metric is, ahem, frustrating.  It feels as if my life matters less because I am fat.  And it doesn't just feel that way, it *is* that way.  No physician that I have seen in the last few days is willing to look me in the eye as they explain that I must simply endure the pain.  Again, this is cold comfort. At the orthopedist, I was advised to come back in three months.  Because I *for sure* welcome the charge for that kind of dismissive and dehumanizing experience again.  

For now, the plan is to try not to eat so that I can lose weight and meet the metric, at which point I will return to the orthopedist and have the surgery.  The corollary plan is to do my best to avoid the self-loathing of my body that I had done a really great job vanquishing in the last 20+ years.  I know that self-loathing is not a helpful tool in this struggle, but body dysmorphia waits for no one, especially in a world where your primary problem cannot be solved because medicine has decided you are too fat.  Self-loathing is therefore in full command now, which is not awesome.  I will struggle on because there is no other choice.  Until then, pain and I will be unhappy companions.  And I will indulge in a whole lot of ongoing dislike and disrespect for medical science with each aching step.

Gratitude Journal: Making It Count

I’ve fallen dreadfully behind in my writing goals for this month and the only excuse I can offer is that thanks to my bum hip, I am behind on everything.  It is no joke to live with pain like I am experiencing and the discomfort blends into every part of life.  For starters, though it’s predictable that my hip will hurt, how it will ache is not predictable at all.  Will the pain be on my right?  In  my groin?  Radiating down my thigh?  Will a formerly comfortable chair now be absolute torture?  Can I stand up easily or will such an action be accompanied by excruciating discomfort?    It is both frustrating and terrifying to be limited in this fashion.  It’s also made my daily gratitude practice more essential than ever.  

Finding gratitude in the rhythm of the day helps to ease my fears as I wait for medical science to help me navigate a solution.  It reminds me that even if things are harder right now, it’s still worth my time to try and do them.  So I cut the grass when I feel up to it; I reorganize the front porch plants at the start of the month; I make time for home-cooked suppers eaten on the back deck.  I keep trying and I am grateful for the support of the people who love me and are helping me to find my way.  For that show of affection and support, I am as grateful as I can be.

Holding on to Hope

The last month has found me skating delicately around a very unhappy hip.   It’s hard to be my hopeful self when I’m in pain.  The scarcity of my optimism makes it all the easier for fear to take hold.  I don’t see the orthopedist until the 21st so it’s rather a long wait for some answers and - I hope - some relief.  I’m not patient in the best of circumstances and so I’ve really had to lean in to my calming meditation ways to keep it together these last few weeks.  It feels like life is frayed while I wait for some answers for my hip and try to hold off the fear that there will be no relief.  I’m grateful for days when the discomfort isn’t unbearable; when I can get in a 2-3 hour stretch of sitting-up sleep; when I feel a little more like my busy, capable self.  And I am holding on to the hope that there will be treatment that will work.

Among the Trees: Back to School

 School starts today.  It’s the start of my 22nd year at my school; my 12th in the Middle School.  I’m teaching my 8th grade Civics & Citizenship class for a  4th year.  Lessons are ready, assignments are copied and loaded to the digital platform.  I’ve made adjustments to the class that I am ready to try. 

Clothes for the week are picked out and ironed.  Actual shoes will be worn.  Folders have been created, notebooks and stickers are neatly stacked.  I’m ready. 

If I have any anxiety about the year - and I do - it’s about my health.  Since late August, my wonky, arthritic hip has been on strike.  It’s pained me on and off for the last two years but this round is the worst yet.  I cannot get through the day without an embarrassing amount of ibuprofen.  Sleeping at night has become distinctly uncomfortable, so much so that I rest but don’t really sleep, as I can’t lie down without pain.  So I rest sitting up, which is not especially restful.  I have an appointment with an orthopedic doctor later this month but I am not hopeful that actual relief will be forthcoming.  And so I wait while my fears run amok. 

My greatest anxiety is about the threat to my independence this problem presents.  Just getting up and walking around is uncomfortable and though I keep at it, there are times when the discomfort is excruciating.  At minimum, I need relief from the pain.  At maximum, I’d like to be able to trust my hip to see me through whatever it is I wish to do.  Right now, I am confined to walks in safe places.  My step count is up because I cannot sit for more than 20 minutes without discomfort when I do stand and walk.  So I set a timer and keep moving.  

I am hopeful that things can be made better.  But I am also very, very afraid.  It’s a strange combination, hope and fear.  But it’s where I am at today, as the school year is underway.  

September 1: Snake Plant

Earlier this summer, I went to a local plant store with my friend A, who is as plant-enamored as I am.  I came home with a few additions to my plant world, including this snake plant. 

It needs a name, of course, but while I wait for that inspiration, I enjoy it on the front porch.  I tucked a tiny clay mouse into the soil and it’s thriving in this lovely pot.  Snake plants are notoriously forgiving plants, prone to thriving.  I am not a careless plant mom, so it’s in no danger of being neglected.  It’s been the delight of my summer hours on the front porch and that’s very happy!