tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592461599644327772023-12-04T04:04:27.602-05:00FOOD &FAMILY: thoughts of an at- home caregiverChristopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.comBlogger83125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-67176038606852530212013-11-21T09:40:00.001-05:002013-11-21T09:40:30.251-05:00Interviewed by Neale Godfrey for Huffington PostOriginally appeared in <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/neale-godfrey/alzheimers-disease-is-dev_b_4304912.html" target="_blank">HuffPo Plus Fifty</a> -- November 20, 2013<br />
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Alzheimer's Disease is Devastating to the Entire Family</h2>
by Neale S. Godfrey<br />
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If you don't have a family member who has been stricken with <a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/alzheimer's%20disease" target="_blank">Alzheimer's disease</a>, the odds are good that you know someone or some family that has been. Along with physical and emotional trauma, the financial burden can destroy a family. Alzheimer's disease <a href="http://www.alz.org/downloads/facts_figures_2012.pdf" target="_blank">affects </a>one in eight older Americans, and is the sixth-leading cause of death. Over 15 million Americans provide unpaid care for a person with Alzheimer's and other dementias. An estimated $200 billion in care was spent in 2012. <br />
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President <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/the-press-office/2013/10/31/presidential-proclamation-national-alzheimers-disease-awareness-month-20" target="_blank">Obama proclaimed</a> November 2013 to be Alzheimer's Disease Awareness Month.<br />
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Alzheimer's disease is an irreversible and progressive brain disease that slowly erodes precious memories, thinking skills, and the ability to perform simple tasks. It affects millions of Americans, including senior citizens as well as younger Americans with early-onset Alzheimer's disease. This month, we stand with everyone confronting the painful reality of an Alzheimer's diagnosis; lend our support to the families who care for them; and renew our commitment to delaying, preventing, and ultimately curing this disease....As we offer our support to Americans with Alzheimer's disease, we also recognize those who care and provide for them, sharing their loved ones' emotional, physical, and financial strains. This month, we honor their compassion, remember those we have lost, and press toward the next great scientific breakthrough.</blockquote>
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In my circle of friends, when someone has questions about caring for a parent or loved one, suspects a family member may have the early signs of dementia, or just needs to talk with someone who has been there and can empathize, we call our friend – Christopher Lanni. Christopher has a wealth of information amassed from his years as a stay-at-home caregiver to his aunt and mother. He is not a healthcare professional, but he is a reservoir of real-world knowledge. He is a writer, a <a href="http://celanni.blogspot.com/2010/01/please-allow-me-to-introduce-myself.html" target="_blank">blogger</a>, public speaker, and a special person – eager to share and offer support.<br />
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In honor of Alzheimer's Disease Month, I have interviewed Christopher on a variety of topics that may offer some insight and support.<br />
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Christopher, you acknowledge that you are not a healthcare professional, are you a legal or financial professional? <br />
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<li>I am not a professional, I am everyman. I like to refer to myself as <i>the Accidental Expert</i>. When my mother retired from her decades of teaching, I began to notice changes. They were subtle at first – couldn't find her glasses, short-term memory loss, and easily agitated. Alzheimer's wasn't in the public dialogue back then. My mother was diagnosed with clinical depression and “normal signs of aging.” </li>
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The symptoms got worse as the disease progressed. How did this impact your life and the lives of your family members?<br />
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<li>My mother's decline was slow at first. We were lucky that one of her sisters had always lived with us. Now retired, she was able to keep an eye on my mother. I was able to continue working outside the home – for a while. It was now obvious that my mother's condition was neither depression nor “normal.” Finally there was a doctor who gave it a name: Alzheimer's disease. Facing reality was a real blow, as any hope of “getting better” was taken from us. I got aides to help with the logistics of bathing and everyday care. </li>
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Did health insurance or Medicare cover the costs associated with your mother's in-home care?<br />
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<li>No! The expenses were increasing, and totally out of pocket. I vowed to keep my mother at home, where she was comfortable. The sad reality is that keeping a loved one at home is much cheaper than institutionalization, but still expensive and not covered. At this point I gave up outside work and became a full-time caregiver. We made a lot of financial mistakes because we were unprepared and uneducated.</li>
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Tell us about the financial burden.<br />
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<li>My mother owned her own home, where she lived for 40 years. She also had a retirement pension – she was ineligible for financial assistance. Care became more and more expensive as her condition worsened. Aside from physically taking care of my mother, my sister and I also had to contribute financially.</li>
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The financial burden must have been terrific, but what about the emotional toll? I know you did things that no child can imagine having to do for a parent – what makes you so special that you were able to do it?<br />
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<li>Thank you, but I don't consider myself special or different. We all have challenges and most of us find the grace and strength to deal with them. Don't be afraid to cry. In my case, I borrowed the slogan <i>Just Do It! </i>People speak of the sacrifice that I made with my choice to take care of my mother, but I think of all that I gained from the experience. I found strengths and abilities that I never knew I had. I had the gift of intimate bonding time with my mother. I have the amazing sense of accomplishment from being there from diagnosis to her final breath. Her grace and strength taught me more about life, living, and dying than I can express. </li>
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Can you give us some specific tips?<br />
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<li>Yes, both financial and emotional.</li>
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1. Be vigilant. If you notice changes in a parent or loved one, get medical help early. Now there are drugs which can delay and lessen the manifestations of the disease.<br />
2. Be strong. Inevitably, the child has to become the parent. It's not easy, but you have to take the steps to insure the safety of the patient. You will be met with resistance, but you have to take away those car keys, install safety features in the home, and get help. I always say: “You wouldn't let your 9 year-old have the car, cook dinner and pay the bills – it's the same thing.”<br />
3. Be prepared. While your folks are in good health, discuss their wishes for the future. Help them get their <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/neale-godfrey/leave-your-children-more-than-money_b_4212557.html" target="_blank">papers in order</a>. <br />
4. Get your financial house in order. Talk to professionals. Establish a <a href="http://www.nolo.com/legal-encyclopedia/living-trust-faq-29036.html" target="_blank">Living Trust</a>. Explore the option of long-term health insurance. Examine current insurance policies.<br />
5. Reach out for help. Caregivers can't do it without support from family, friends, clergy, and the medical community. Most hospitals and end-of-life facilities have support groups. <br />
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Thanks to Christopher for briefly sharing some of his experience and tips. I suggest you read his blog which chronicled his care-giving along with amusing stories and favorite recipes. As a family financial specialist, I will continue to cover different ways to keep our families healthy, wealthy, and wise.<br />
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For resources and information on living with or caring for someone with Alzheimer's disease, please visit <a href="http://www.alzheimers.gov/">www.Alzheimers.gov</a>, <a href="http://www.alzfdn.org/" target="_blank">Alzheimer's Foundation </a>of America, and <a href="http://www.alz.org/index.asp" target="_blank">Alzheimer's Association</a>. Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-51425916054894005332012-09-18T00:20:00.000-04:002012-09-18T00:40:31.041-04:00GOODBYE FOR NOW & THANK YOU<h2 style="text-align: center;">
UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN</h2>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">IT HAS BEEN QUITE A JOURNEY </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">THANK YOU FOR COMING ALONG WITH ME</span></div>
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I first decided to start this blog on a whim. It was post-Christmas holidays, I had my usual seasonal blues and I had writer's block. I thought that committing to a blog would be a good writing exercise. My motives were completely selfish. I knew I had a lot of caregiving experience to share but I had no idea anyone would actually find my blog - let alone read it.</div>
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On Thursday, January 9, 2010 I posted my first blog: "Please Allow Me to Introduce Myself". I began with an introduction to me, my life and of course my dear mother Adelaide who was in late-stage Alzheimer's disease. I would continue to write about family memories and introduce my readers to my family members. The main focus was always my caregiving experiences but I also added "Foodie Friday" weekly recipes and food stories. To date, my foods blogs continue to have the widest readership.</div>
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From the beginning I was surprised by my growing followers. I was thrilled when I became searchable by the big internet search engines. I was often touched by feedback posted to my blogs and private emails I received from all over the world. It seems that my little writing exercise was reaching, touching and helping people. </div>
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Being able to share my thoughts was predictably cathartic. I was going through some pretty tough human situations and emotions. Knowing that I could be of some help or comfort to others somehow made me stronger and more resolute. I was able to look at challenges differently. Not only was I being of some help and support to others, but I was gathering so much support from you. In life but particularly in caregiving there is strength in knowing that you are not the only one in the world facing the everyday problems and sometimes life and death situations. </div>
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2011 was a year of a gathering storm. My mother's health was certainly deteriorating and there were so many up and downs and twists and turns. My emotions were mostly at fever pitch. There was no way I was going to admit to myself or anyone else that the end of my mother's journey was approaching. After 18 years of increasing levels of caregiving - from keeping an eye on things all the way to total and complete care - I had the amazing gift of holding Adelaide in my arms with my sister Patricia at our side, when our mother passed away.</div>
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I had imagined scenarios of my mother's passing for many years. I lived in fear of going into her room for our morning rituals and finding that she had died during the night. Every time I left the house or went anywhere I worried that something would happen while I was gone. The possibility I feared most was that my mother would pass away during a hospital visit - alone and scared.</div>
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We were spared all of those alternate endings. Her passing was beautiful. She was peaceful, without pain and surrounded by love. We should all be so lucky when our time arrives.</div>
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The pain of loss was palpable. I was sick with grief. I was also relieved that her troubles were over. I was also relieved that my job as caregiver was over and I felt guilty for feeling that relief. Shortly after my mother's death, my sister and I discussed how we had dreaded this for years, the time had arrived and somehow we were still standing.</div>
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Life is miraculous. The human mind and soul have limitless abilities to heal and rebound. I am on my new journey in my new life. It certainly has not been an easy path but it is moving forward and it is good. </div>
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I can hardly believe it but we are close to a year since Adelaide's journey ended and my journey began its new course. I still have some private weepy moments and I will always miss my mother. I will be forever grateful for the time I spent caring for her and learning about love, life and myself. I will always be proud of my caregiving years and of sharing my experience through this blog.</div>
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I'm writing again. I'm working as a social media consultant and writer. My "block" is long gone and so I am working on a book about my caregiving time and maybe someday I'll even finish it! </div>
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Thank you for your readership, love and inspiration. This is probably my last post on this blog but I will be leaving this one up...for now. I hope that other caregivers will find my old posts to be of some help. I hope readers will continue to find my recipes and try them out on their families. My email will remain active as I will always be available to answer questions or to listen to any caregivers out there that just need to share their stories with me. Don't be strangers.</div>
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<tr><td><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana,arial,helvetica;">"The sea is dangerous and its storms terrible, but these obstacles have never been sufficient reason to remain ashore... Unlike the mediocre, intrepid spirits seek victory over those things that seem impossible... It is with an iron will that they embark on the most daring of all endeavors... to meet the shadowy future without fear and conquer the unknown."</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> unknown</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /> </span></td></tr>
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Thank you again. </div>
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Au revoir.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Christopher E. Lanni</span></div>
Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-84103833698208088822012-06-14T01:15:00.000-04:002012-06-14T13:25:37.719-04:00I FEEL LIKE I GOT HIT BY A TRUCK<h2 style="text-align: center;">
HYPERBOLE</h2>
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"Extravagant exaggeration"</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">mirriam-webster </span></div>
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Grief hurts. There is a certain pain that you feel which is unmistakable and undeniable. The good news is that it is neither terminal nor permanent. Very slowly the pain subsides. The sadness and sense of loss linger but become more tolerable every day. Every day forward brings you closer to the new "normal" and farther from your old life. </div>
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There is never a good time to lose a loved one but there are better times. My mother passed away about 10 days before Thanksgiving. For years I hosted all the holidays. It just made the most sense because it was easier for everyone to come to mom then to get her to someone else's house.</div>
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Too soon! There was no way I could bring myself to host the feast. I was conflicted because I was craving the old traditions but honest enough to know that there were only new traditions from now on. It was my sister's turn to host. Now with Adelaide gone, Patricia was the de facto matriarch of our ever-shrinking family. I, of course, cooked. It's what I do. It's what I wanted to do. I welcomed the distraction.</div>
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OK! We made it through the first holiday without mom. I could take a deep breath. We're going to be OK. Onward to Christmas.</div>
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Christmas was going to be back at my house. Yes, I know I said we had to move forward but Christmas? I knew this was going to be the last Christmas in the home I had lived in for 40+ years and I wanted to savor it. It was not going to be the way it used to be but I was going to do my best.</div>
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I guess there was some degree of denial involved in my decision. I also think that if I weren't going to be hosting Christmas I would not have decorated which would have meant me wallowing in a spiritless house for a month and that would not have been good.</div>
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Christmas was pretty good. Time was working its magic. I was settling into looking at my future with more enthusiasm than fear. The balance was turning in favor of more happy days than sad ones. The tears were getting more distanced.</div>
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METAPHOR </h2>
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"a figure of speech in which a word or phrase literally denoting one kind of object is used in place of another to suggest an analogy between them" </div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">mirriam-webster </span></div>
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Healing is not always on a straight trajectory. There are twists and turns and the fates are good at testing us. At any time and without warning that "truck" can make a u-turn and come back and hit us again...and it did.</div>
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I had three big holidays under my belt. I was finding time for some fun. I was spending more time with close friends. I even with out with a couple of them for New Year's Eve. I earned some time out and they graciously saw that I got it. A little crazy fun on New Year's Eve is an easy way to put a very bad year behind you. It is always symbolic and bitter-sweet, but this year, wow. 2012 <i>had </i>to be better for me! </div>
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In 2011 I had lost my niece, mother, purpose and identity. Good riddance! Be gone worst of worst years.</div>
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On New Year's day my beloved Golden Retriever Mickey wasn't acting quite right. Actually he had declined since his "patient" [my mother] had died. He was her most faithful companion and guardian. They had an amazing bond. Each would look for the other and you could see the love on their faces.</div>
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On January 2, 2012, two whole days into the new and promising year I had to do the most difficult task any pet owner /care giver has to do. I had to make the only humane decision which was to send my wonderful Mickey to be with my mother. </div>
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Slam! Bang! Crash!</div>
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Hello truck. Welcome back grief. </div>
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That was a blow I was not ready for. I never felt so alone. First I lost my job taking care of my mother and now I would no longer have my "best friend" to care for. I did not think I was going to ever stop mourning. All the progress I had made was nullified.</div>
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But of course I survived! Death is part of life. Blah...blah...blah. The good news is that everything had been taken away from me now. I had nothing left to lose. I was at the bottom so life had to start looking up.</div>
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I threw myself into packing up my life into moving boxes in order to prepare my house to go up for sale. This was not emotionally easy but necessary. If I were truly going to move on then I had to literally move.</div>
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FACT</h2>
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"the quality of being actual...an actual occurrence" </div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">mirriam-webster</span></div>
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Some people are superstitious about saying things like "I had nothing left to lose." or "I was at the bottom so life had to start looking up." I think they may know something profound.</div>
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We were approaching big holiday number 4, Easter. My house was well under de-construction so we were back to gathering at my sister's. I, once again, would be cooking. This was a bit of a milestone holiday for my family. While December 31, 2011 was the end of the calendar year, Easter would be the end of our family's worst symbolic year. It had been Holy Saturday of 2011 that my niece had passed away. Let's try putting that bad year away once and for all.</div>
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Ten days before Easter my sister and I were out for our usual and traditional Friday shopping, galavanting and bonding. We have been doing that for years. It's a very nice and comfortable tradition. It was a beautiful Spring day and we had gone to the next town over to a specialty store to begin buying food supplies for the Easter dinner. I was going to be making lasagna and I wanted fresh pasta. </div>
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It was such a beautiful day that I decided to avoid the main roads because Friday traffic is always bad. Instead I chose the back, country roads which wind along the reservoir system. It was great. There was no traffic. Very pleasant. </div>
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The road is a gently winding road with trees, guard rails and water along most of it. Very scenic. I looked pretty far ahead of us and saw this 18-wheeler heading towards us and I noted to my sister that the truck was a little over the center line. I naturally assumed the truck driver would correct when he saw my car. </div>
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As we got closer the truck moved farther and farther over the center line into my lane of travel. Now, time was short and it looked like the truck was not going to correct. I managed to get my car to a place with no guard rail and pulled as far off the roadway as I could, being mindful of water not far beyond the road.</div>
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I stepped on the brake, commanded my sister to "get down low. Make yourself as small as you can. He's going to hit us." With that I threw myself to my right side and onto my sister as far as I could while still wearing my seatbelt. Within seconds the monstrous truck, now a full five feet into my lane, crashed past smashing the side of my car until finally coming to rest at least a hundred feet past us.</div>
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I sat up. I could not believe what had happened. I checked on my sister and she was OK. We had a weird catharsis and both of us laughed uncontrollably. There was nothing funny. It was just our emotional release. Then I looked down to make sure my body parts were all where they were supposed to be. They seemed to be.</div>
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I don't remember much of what followed. I know I was in shock. We were in shock. Rescue teams quickly arrived and got my sister out of the car. She was beaten up and shaken up and had spine and neck damage but she was standing.</div>
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Next thing I remember is being cut out of the car with the "jaws of life". I had to be braced and lifted to the ambulance. I was in bad shape but I was alive. </div>
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You may have guessed that this threw me off my grief recovery plan. I spent the first couple of weeks in tears any time I spoke with anyone. The compounding of grief is serious. But I survived. I am a survivor!</div>
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The first thing I half-heartedly joked in the ER was that it was "unfair that I had been worried about not having a home and now I don't even have a car. If you're going to be homeless you at least have to have a car to live in." We laughed. I cried some more. </div>
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I'm still in physical therapy and awaiting a few medical procedures. Some days there is less pain than others but there is always pain. I had initially lost some ability to grasp the right words when I was speaking but that is much improved now. I will never be the same. But I'm alive. </div>
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My sister refers to our miraculously being saved as "Mommy's first miracle"! I think she might be right. There has to have been an angel watching out for us.</div>
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I really do know what it feels like to be hit buy a truck! Be it hyperbole, metaphor or fact, pain is debilitating. </div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-67321969824135356962012-05-25T01:48:00.000-04:002012-05-25T12:29:00.913-04:00LET THE GRIEVING BEGINIt is six months after my mother shed her troubled earthbound body for what even we barely-believing hope is a better place. It is difficult for me to write about the first seconds, minutes, hours and finally days after she drew her last breath in my arms. Yes, it is difficult to dwell on that time but even more so because my usually excellent memory is vague. Perhaps this is a natural defense offered by a generous brain. It is also because I was standing still, achingly sad while the world was swirling around me.<br />
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It seemed that within minutes people began to arrive. A very dear friend was first on the scene. She instinctively tried to console me and then quietly began making phone calls to my list of family and friends. These were calls I was unable to make. It was too soon. I couldn't begin telling and retelling the news and circumstances of my mother's death. I called my brother to give him the news. I called the funeral director to begin arrangements. The first thing that needed to be done was to have my mother removed from her room, her cocoon.<br />
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The house was filling with family and friends. As I greeted each new face I cried. Somehow my sister and I kept finding our way back to each other for hugs and tears of mutual grief and strength. The person who had been most noticeably absent was Niki, my mother's aide and our housemate. She had left that morning for a new job. I had called her to give her the sad news. Now Niki, my mother's angel, had arrived. She hugged my sister and me and rushed upstairs to see mom and make her presentable for the funeral director who would be arriving shortly. <br />
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Making my mother presentable may sound strange or perhaps even ghoulish but not to anyone who knew my mother. This was a woman who would never be seen without her hair being perfect and looking perfectly presentable. I was not going to let her leave the house for her last time any other way. Niki instinctively knew this. <br />
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I was unprepared for the soul-cleansing wail that Niki gave when she went in to see Addie. My mother had become a second mother to her. They had an amazing bond. I was relieved that Niki was with mom. This was a facade of normalcy in a time of chaos.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica; font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The busy have no time for tears.</span></span></h2>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;">I had a couple of hours of full-blown, self-indulgent grieving but now there had to be a break because the business of death was at hand. We three siblings had decisions and plans to make. We left the house full of loved ones and went to the funeral home to plan. Somehow having a job to do was comforting. I am a project oriented person, why should this have been any different?</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;">About a year ago, during one of my mother's hospital stays I had decided that I did not want a traditional funeral home wake for my mother. Since we had agreed that when the time came mom should be cremated, I wanted to have a simple gathering of friends and family at our home which would then be followed the next morning with a funeral mass at mom's church followed by burial alongside my father who had predeceased mom by 41 years. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;">My brother and sister agreed with my plans and so it would be. Instead of hours of despair and depression at the funeral home we would celebrate mom's life at home in comfort and familiar surroundings. This would also give my sister and me yet another project to prepare the house for guests.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;">The formal gathering at my home was planned for two days after mom's passing. This gave one full day not only to prepare for guests at the house but to put together the particulars for the funeral mass as well as write an obituary. I went into full "producer" mode which was my natural default. I knew if I stopped for too long the grief would take over and I was scared. I was sure that if I stopped to think about what we were busy preparing for I would crumble. "Just keep moving. Just keep one step ahead of the sorrow" I kept telling myself. It was working.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;">My sister and I have always been close. Although she is eleven years my senior we have been each other's strength through all the years of Adelaide's illness. We shared a bond with each other and with our mother that no one else can ever know. Now we were bonding even closer in mom's death. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;">I HAVE NO OBJECTIONS TO CHURCHES SO LONG AS THEY DO NOT INTERFERE WITH GOD'S WORK</span></h2>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">brooks atkinson</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">As I look back the time spent tending to my mother's funeral mass was the most absurd. I tend to be a man who knows what he wants and how to make it happen. The church seems to prefer to stand on tradition, conformity and submission. This is a titanic clash of wills. I have always been honest and forthright in my writing so I will admit that there has been quite a distance between me and the church of my mother and my youth for many years. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">It is really quite simple. I see the church as"standing on tradition, conformity and submission" and it sees itself as the sole appointed and anointed direct voice of God. I'm a producer. My mother's farewell was to be one of the most important productions of my life. Do not misinterpret that as meaning garish or showy or disrespectful. I just wanted her final mass to be personal and jubilant. She deserved that. I would see to it. This should have been a reasonably easy job.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I have a wonderful friend who is a gifted singer. When she came to visit me she would always go to my mother's room and sing for her. These shared moments were some of the highlights of my mom's years of illness. To me, the connection of souls through God's gift of song is a religious experience I am proud to have been witness to. It went without saying that I wanted dear Linda to sing at the funeral. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Linda gracefully accepted my request and we agreed upon a couple of traditional songs. My brother-in-law is also a talented musician and singer and he was also going to sing a very special song for my mother. I also had a couple of minor requests of the church, one being that I forbad the playing of the church organ. I just do not like the way this particular pipe organ sounds and to me it is forced melancholy. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> I conveyed my plans to the funeral director who immediately said that there "might be some problem with the church" and then added "you know you have to pay the organist and the regular funeral singer even if you don't use them." This immediately brought to mind the Broadway musicians' union dictating how many orchestra musicians a show was required to employ. I expressed my disdain at the church having "a problem" and that I didn't care who we had to pay. I would rather pay the organist <i>not</i> to play than to play. I also requested that my brother-in-law's cousin give one of the readings at the mass. "A woman?" the funeral director exclaimed. "Yes that 'woman' happens to be a nun".</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Later in the day when I was on my fourth phone call from either the priest or the "musical director of the church" I was forced to play my producer's trump card. I calmly informed the priest that I had not expected to spend the day after my mother died producing her funeral and negotiating with the church. I also explained quite simply that since my mother had been cremated I felt no urgency to follow through with her funeral mass in his church. "Although my mother was uniquely devoted to your parish I do not feel the same bond. I am perfectly willing to postpone her funeral while I find a more welcoming congregation of some other more 'Christian' faith". </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The priest acquiesced but asked that the nun present credentials before the service?! </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Day two was finally over. My friends were taking turns staying with me, wonderfully concerned friends were afraid to leave me alone. I welcomed the company. I was somehow functioning but the pain of grief was profound. I had twenty years to prepare for my mother's death but I do not know how one actually accomplishes that. In one breath I had lost my mother, my best friend, my mentor, my job, my identity, my raison d'etre and soon my home. My world could never possibly be the same again. Sometimes a little self-pity is justified.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">dr. megan reik</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">That evening is when I discovered something new and odd and awful. I discovered that the shower was the most painful place to be. From that night and for the next couple of weeks I could not stand in the shower without breaking down and sobbing. It was the only place I was truly alone. I was alone with my sorrow and my pain and it was easy to let all of my emotions out even after I had learned to mostly tuck them away in front of people. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The evening of the "open house" was here and friends and family were arriving. It was amazing. People showed up that I hadn't seen since I was in high school. Teachers that my mother taught with thirty years ago and that had taught me were in my living room. It was a full house. It was a house filled with love and tears and laughter. We shared Adelaide stories. Old friends reunited. I met some of my sister's friends who I had only heard stories about for many years. So many people approached me to tell me what a wonderful job I had done taking care of my mother for all these years. I was actually embarrassed.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;">Frequently throughout the evening my sister and I would find one another to express how happy we were that we had decided to honor mom in this most natural of ways, borrowed from the Jewish tradition of shiva and made just a little Italian. I kept repeating that "mommy would have loved this". She would have. Adelaide loved nothing more that to have friends and family filling our home with love.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;">The day of the funeral arrived. Another of my friends came to house sit. She tried hard to convince me to take a tranquilizer that I had for just such a time but declined. I decided that I wanted to experience the day to its' fullest. Another of my friends chided me that I was a "typical writer" for that. [I love my friends]</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;">The funeral service began with the organist playing the processional hymn on the organ. The first couple of notes bellowed from the pipes and my brother-in-law sprang to his feet in fear that I was going to cause a scene and "bring down the curtain". He grabbed the funeral director who bolted up the the organ loft pretty swiftly for a dignified gentleman. The organ was silenced for the remainder of the service. Linda sang like Beverly Sills and Maria Callas had taken her over. The priest gave a wonderfully personal eulogy capturing the very essence of my mother. Sister, having presented her credentials, read a lovely verse. Brother-in-law performed his song which brought me easily to tears. Then in a final act of love, the elder monsignor who had been a very close friend of my parents stood and gave a second eulogy and spoke beautifully of both of my parents.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;">The funeral was beautiful. It was tear-filled but it was a joyous celebration of my mother's exemplary life. I was proud of myself for this most important "production". I am so thankful for having such talented and generous friends.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;"> Six months have passed. Most of the tears have stopped, at least the public ones. Most of the time I remember Adelaide as a healthy vibrant woman now. My friends continue to surround me and watch out for me. My sister will forever be my rock and my inspiration.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;"><br /></span></div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-37326458163418767342012-05-08T01:57:00.001-04:002012-05-08T02:29:36.896-04:00FAIT ACCOMPLI<h2 style="text-align: center;">
FALL IS NOT MY SEASON</h2>
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Yes, I love the rich colors of the foliage. My birthday is even in Fall. The first hint of chill in the air combining with the shortening of the days is always sure to trigger the blues for me. I am one of the many who suffers from "seasonal affective disorder". In a good year I begin to hibernate. I take on projects to distract me. I listen to my favorite music, watch my favorite movies and cook my favorite foods. Sometimes these efforts even work.</div>
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2011 was the Fall of a lifetime. There was no little trick to beat the blues. This was the season in which the gods challenged my very being and nearly won. </h4>
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Late in September my mother was hospitalized again. This was another bout with pneumonia and at 91 a bout with pneumonia can always be the last one. This was another of those episodes where the doctors warned us to expect the worst. We have had so many of those that I began to accept them as part of the ritual. Mom didn't seem so ill this time. At least she was comfortable and responded quickly to medication. I was even able to relax a little because my mother's private aide spent nights in the hospital alongside mom.</div>
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Amazing Adelaide made it through and back home. Mom's aide, Niki even convinced me to take a couple of nights away from home so I could relax. This was in everyone's best interest. At home I would just hover and Niki didn't need that. The weather was beautiful and I spent my couple of "bonus days" on the New Jersey shore. This really was a great idea. I regained some strength which I was certainly going to be needing.</div>
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Mom was recovering very slowly this go 'round. She had lost her appetite and was sleeping more than before. I, of course, was worrying because that was what I did well. </div>
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As if Fall isn't difficult enough for me, Mother Nature decided to let it all out and delivered the now famous Halloween blizzard of 2011! Snow in October is not only unwanted but it is wrong. Trees with leaves do not accept the weight of huge amounts of snow willingly and they did not.</div>
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As the snow began to pile up the trees began to fall. This was as frightening an experience as I had experienced to that point. Trees were falling on my house. The snow was blowing in gale force winds. Niki was beginning to panic. My ancient dog Mickey wanted to go out an play but that wasn't going to happen. </div>
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I was worried [I told you that was my job] that we would lose power if not the roof so earlier in the day I had checked the generator and made sure it was at the ready. Niki and I had also loaded all the firewood I had on hand into the garage so we could have some extra heat and ambience. Right on schedule, about four hours into the storm the power did indeed go out.</div>
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Luckily I had the generator up and running in minutes! I was never a Boy Scout but I'm still good at being prepared. Niki and I made sure to run cables to Mom's room to keep her electric bed functioning and heat going for her. We had some lights for us and a nice fire roaring. We were scared but comfy enough. </div>
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That comfort lasted about three hours until the generator failed. No matter how I tried I could not get it restarted. Time for the back-up plan. Lift mom off her electric bed and air mattress and put lots of padding under her. Get the flashlights and lanterns. Put quilts on mom and get the portable propane heater [indoor safe] which I had bought years earlier to "be prepared" for some other possible disaster.</div>
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Niki stayed with mom. I slept in the fireplace room. We made it through the night. The snow had stopped. The trees stopped falling. Neighbors came to my rescue and got the generator working. It's a good thing they were able to help because we were without power for five days!</div>
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Adelaide never fully rebounded from her hospital stay. This time it was different. She was not the same. She was not smiling. She was not eating much. Mid-November on a Thursday afternoon my sister was visiting and trying to feed mom lunch as she had so lovingly for so many years. Mom just was not doing well. My sister and I were both worrying. Niki was obviously lying about her concern for mom's condition in order not to alarm us. I knew better. </div>
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The following day I could tell mom was not heading in the right direction. I told Patricia that I thought mom was tired of fighting. Neither of us wanted to believe it because we had played this scenario so many times before. I could feel that mom was not the same. Over the next couple of days I felt mom was slipping away. Niki continued her charade but we all knew.</div>
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On Monday mom was a little better. She ate a little lunch for Patricia. She even smiled a little. Oddly enough when Patricia was leaving and kissed mom and said she would see her the following day, Adelaide managed to get out a quiet but unmistakable "goodbye" in return. </div>
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That evening mom was doing worse. I could not sit still. I hovered and worried. Mom's eyes appeared to be sunken in and she was awake but not with us. </div>
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Tuesday was Niki's birthday. She had gotten mom taken care of but had to leave the house for a new job that she had just gotten. I heard her chatting away with mom as we all did. I could hear "it's my birthday. Don't you want to smile for me?" Niki said mom seemed a little better and then left.</div>
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Mom did seem a little better. She was certainly more alert. She ate for me and that was a wonderful sign! Way to go Adelaide! </div>
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About an hour later I could hear mom coughing a little so I rushed to check on her. She was obviously in distress. I raised her oxygen level and put her on her side. I stayed with her while I called 911 and then my sister. I told my sister what was going on and she said she would meet me at the hospital. I told her not to go to the hospital but to come home instead. I knew Adelaide was not going to be going to the hospital. </div>
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The paramedics arrived followed by my sister. I was holding my mother while they were assessing her. Her breathing was very shallow. This was that moment that no one can ever be prepared for. THE decision. The DREADED decision. They asked if I wanted them to intubate her. </div>
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In that briefest of moments I kissed my mother who was still in my arms and said goodbye. I told her I knew it was time and how brave she had always been and how much I loved her. I called my sister into the room and told her it was time. Then I gave my answer to the paramedics and invoked the DNR.</div>
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11:15 [am] November 15, 2011</h2>
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It was over. Our beautiful mother was gone. She slipped quietly to the other side while I held her and with Patricia at our side. In an instant our lives would never be the same. She was at peace. It was beautiful. We were devastated.</div>
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I am still so proud of myself for having seen to her caregiving all the way to the most fitting end. All those dress rehearsals. All those emergency room trips. All that worrying. All that dread. In the end she was as home where she belonged and where she would have wanted to be. </div>
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I recall that the first thing I was able to say to my sister was that now we were orphans. I am sure that sounds peculiar to those of you who are fortunate to still have one or both parents but I am equally as sure that anyone without parents will understand. I lost my father when I was 10 and my mom when I was 52 but regardless of my age the sorrow is immeasurable.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica; font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica; font-size: x-small;">No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.</span> </b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;">c.s.lewis</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 24px;"><span class="hps">Au revoir mon</span> <span class="hps">doux</span><span class="">.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 24px;"><span class="hps">Ti terrò</span> <span class="hps">nel mio</span> <span class="hps">cuore per sempre</span><span class="">.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 24px;"><span class="hps">Vestibulum</span> <span class="hps">ut</span> <span class="hps">res</span> <span class="hps">docuit</span><span class="">.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-41386593201030046702012-04-30T00:29:00.002-04:002012-04-30T00:39:29.215-04:00A NEW BEGINNING<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">AT FIRST: THANK YOU</span></div>
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In the last blog I wrote I promised to return to my good habits and diligent posts. That was a promise which I swiftly broke. As often happens to caregivers, the universe had a profound alternate plan. </div>
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Thank you for your patience. Thank you for your loyalty. Thank you for your empathy, sympathy and outpouring of well-wishes. I cannot find the words to express how deeply touched I have been by so many of my readers during this most difficult time in my life.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I'M BACK!</span></div>
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During these past few months since my mother's passing I have spent time thinking about the future of this blog. I wanted to return but I was unsure how to proceed. I am no longer a "stay at home caregiver" but I still have much to share. </div>
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My friends and readers have urged me to dive back into my writing. I am going to give it a try. They are, of course, right. As I get back into writing again I plan to share my experiences at the end of our long battle with Alzheimer's. It would not be right to leave out the last chapters of Adelaide's Journey. I also want to share my current odyssey through grief and my struggle to rebuild my life which had been in limbo for so many years. I hope you will come along with me.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica;">"Mourning is not forgetting... It is an undoing. Every minute tie has to be untied and something permanent and valuable recovered and assimilated from the dust. The end is gain, of course. Blessed are they that mourn, for theyshall be made strong, in fact. But the process is like all other human births, painful and long and dangerous."</span></b></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">margery allingham 1956</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></b></span></div>
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<br /></div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-89822357371824315022011-11-16T12:44:00.000-05:002011-11-16T12:44:32.779-05:00IN MEMORIAM<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQa7vWK0GM2tj3MkYY-ZHCCglztTaHdiZrz_Ml0GDcyOY5RYOUJHEWqxz4EOTE_X3HPvHl8Gwn8uSKydDtK1B42V8nXuqj0l_jZ3s_M_jbvsOQaB69ddbpOOaf_UQs2NvQ2eZQh3TWsqTR/s1600/%2521cid_WJN0202840.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQa7vWK0GM2tj3MkYY-ZHCCglztTaHdiZrz_Ml0GDcyOY5RYOUJHEWqxz4EOTE_X3HPvHl8Gwn8uSKydDtK1B42V8nXuqj0l_jZ3s_M_jbvsOQaB69ddbpOOaf_UQs2NvQ2eZQh3TWsqTR/s640/%2521cid_WJN0202840.jpg" width="172" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-73278048162590370412011-08-29T17:38:00.001-04:002011-08-30T00:53:25.319-04:00SUMMER OF MY DISCONTENTSince I began writing this blog I have been fairly diligent about posting stories and recipes. I have striven to keep sharing stories and events of my caregiving experiences until a few months ago. Usually writing is a good, constructive outlet for my frustrations and I am always hopeful that sharing can be of some help to others.<br />
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My hiatus began when an unexpected tragedy struck my family. In the past I would have taken a little time to get things back in perspective and use an event as a teaching or entertaining moment. This summer has brought an onslaught of events, illnesses, accidents and mishaps which has kept me from my virtual "pen". My favorite way to refer to a series of events like these is as a "<b>Cluster Fuck</b>".<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq2oEuumfvkR6HLewUKubKb7-IfK3zX642srSFuj7nrQde-wY_vxexnnetICpeczlvR_tZFQtLr3DXprVPNa97uAblNzoKkCnd6tEkFNrp3OJ3JMBpzxmaS4TVCWfu9RgV_3zD7uhBsyrl/s1600/birthmark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq2oEuumfvkR6HLewUKubKb7-IfK3zX642srSFuj7nrQde-wY_vxexnnetICpeczlvR_tZFQtLr3DXprVPNa97uAblNzoKkCnd6tEkFNrp3OJ3JMBpzxmaS4TVCWfu9RgV_3zD7uhBsyrl/s1600/birthmark.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">[credit: Gary Larson, the far side]</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Easter Week of this year my family was anxiously awaiting the birth of my [only] niece Kate's second daughter. I was preparing for the usual family Easter dinner which would, as always, be at my home. Decorations and holiday china were unpacked, menu was prepared and guests were invited. I got the long awaited email that Kate had successfully delivered another beautiful, healthy girl. Mother and daughter were both doing fine.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Two days passed and I was slightly concerned because I had no further updates on the new arrival and my phone calls and emails were going unanswered. That evening I finally got a phone call from my brother to explain the lack of contact and to deliver the shocking news that his seemingly perfectly healthy 32 year old daughter had gotten out of her hospital bed the morning after delivering and collapsed to the floor with a massive heart attack precipitated by blood clot. They had performed emergency surgery and now Kate was in a chemically induced coma to recover. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was one of those rare times when I was mute. All I could manage was to offer my love and support and services in any way I could be of use. I could hear the forced bravado in my brother's voice and I suspected there might be even more to his daughter's condition than he was able to share in that phone call. I called our sister to catch her up on the situation. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">More time elapsed without further contact or new updates and my sister and I feared the worst. We struggled with our overwhelming instinct to run to our brother and sister-in-law's side but we also respected that they were inundated with worrying about their only child while helping to care for the 2 year old and now the newborn grandchildren. Finally, on that Saturday, I got the call we feared letting me know that Kate had passed away.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That evening we went to Kate's home to be with the family and to offer any possible love and support that we could. In this twenty-first century women are not supposed to die from childbirth. As I sat holding one child on my knee and the other in my arms all I could think was that parents aren't supposed to outlive their children. Men aren't supposed to become widowers at 32. A two year old and a newborn are not supposed to be motherless. Nothing was right. The world was off its axis. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After some time had passed and I was settled back into the normal routine of caregiving for my mom I was feeling the urge to resume my blog. Summer was just beginning, I was planning a short vacation and also planning my annual summer shindig that my friends and I all look forward to. I had a birthday party to go in Central New Jersey and I needed some "down time" with dear friends.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was a beautiful day for the birthday party and everything was shaping up great. I didn't even have to drive myself to NJ as I was being "chauffeured" by a friend and her husband. We arrived at the party and I was having a great time seeing old friends, laughing and relaxing. That lasted for about 2 hours before I got a phone call from my mother's aide telling me that my mother was having difficulty breathing and I needed to come home. I told her to call 911 and get her to the hospital that that I would be home as soon as possible but that was 2 hours away.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I informed my "chauffeur", we said hurried "goodbyes" and headed to the hospital. All the while I was in contact with the aide for updates which were not good. My mother was turning blue. My mother was struggling to breathe. "Where was the 'DNR'?" [Oh my God] I was in a panic. After all these years of caring for my mother on a daily basis I didn't want her to die without me by her side. I understand her advanced age and declined health but one is never ready to lose a loved-one. Now this is a caregiver's big fear.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Meanwhile I called my sister who was also out of town on vacation and about the same distance from my mother as I. I make an executive decision not to call my brother until we know what's going on because he had enough time in the hospital with his daughter and this was too soon.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I arrived at the hospital and when I saw my mother in the ER she was in bad shape. I knew she was close to the end. The doctors said it was pneumonia and we all know how serious that is for anyone let alone a 90 pound 90 year old. She was struggling to breathe and looks so frightened. I tried to comfort her to the best of my ability. They had her on antibiotics, fluids and oxygen but her numbers were very bad.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The doctor caught me up on her condition and suggested we give morphine to try and relax her breathing. That concerned be but I agreed. He also informed me that she wouldn't make it through the night. I know this is a prophecy we have been given all too many times in the past but this time I believed the doctor. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We stayed with my mom until she calmed down and was more comfortable and at least her oxygen level approached normal. She was resting and had had the morphine so there was really no more we could do. I asked her aide to stay with her and to stay in contact with me through the night, which she did. She's great with my mother and my mother loves her so I knew my mother was in good hands. As is my tradition in these situations, I kissed my mother goodbye, told her I loved her and also told her that I was making sure she had whatever help she needed to survive but the choice was hers'. I told her I would understand if she was tired of fighting but it was between her and God.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Once again my amazing Adelaide defied all the odds! That woman has the most amazing strength, grace and will to live. It was a struggle, to be sure, but my mother was back home with me in plenty of time to celebrate her turning 91! You may recall that it was a year ago that we went through a similar trauma and she celebrated her 90th in the hospital. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We survived another "incident" and Adelaide is doing fine! Aside from getting even more gray hair, I also managed to get a nasty upper respiratory and inner ear infection while spending so much time in the hospital. That lasted nearly two weeks with heavy, nausea-inducing antibiotics. I also had to postpone my planned [very much needed] vacation.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">THE CLUSTER FUCK CONTINUES</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><br />
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</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Mom and I were both back to health and I booked a second attempt at a little vacation. I was desperate for some swimming, sun and fun. New Jersey Shore: here I come! I had a week before the second attempt at vacation so I decided to begin work on my afore-mentioned annual summer party. I tend to go just a little overboard and build some simple theatrical sets so there is a backdrop for whatever theme I have conjured. Yes, my neighbors think I'm nuts but they know my history as a man of the theatre and arts. Last year one of my neighbors wanted to know if I was "getting ready to put on dinner theater" in my backyard!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The set-building was going great. This party was to have a simple Italian-American backyard BBQ theme to invoke my childhood. Think of it as "Jersey Shore" meets "The Godfather" with a lovely trellised, grape covered bar, chianti, red and white check table cloths and make-your-own panini buffet. The trellis / arbor bar structure was done and looked great. After 4 or 5 hours in the blazing sun I decided it was time to hang the grapes and vines. I stepped back to admire/assess my wonderful creation. Unfortunately when I stepped forward again I was still admiring and not looking at the ground.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBXcCMOLgKAj1coDrhnvs7GzruyHeZ-kR0M5_zBjqwufUBpvqXem53zcvU79Tyjvwvc3B0Rg3W_26HtSmHQOMQKZkaIr1qklcWzdRd_68rUGMyoxRGtjW6CoapbPxriXX8Kz6xatS-N9hg/s1600/ce+in+chains.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBXcCMOLgKAj1coDrhnvs7GzruyHeZ-kR0M5_zBjqwufUBpvqXem53zcvU79Tyjvwvc3B0Rg3W_26HtSmHQOMQKZkaIr1qklcWzdRd_68rUGMyoxRGtjW6CoapbPxriXX8Kz6xatS-N9hg/s320/ce+in+chains.jpg" width="211" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I managed to stumble over the combination saw that was on the ground and I fell smack down onto my face. I remember thinking "I think my teeth went through my upper lip" before I passed out for a couple of seconds. When I came to I put my hands to my face and was ecstatic to find my teeth and lips intact. It wasn't until I managed to get to my feet that I noticed that in the stumble over tools I managed to tear a chunk of fat and muscle out of my right leg. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After some screaming and swearing, my friend helped me to the front porch. I told him where to find my emergency kit along with some wound-care supplies [always on hand] and I cleaned the wound and got a nice tight bandage around the leg. I then had him fetch my wallet, iPhone and some clean clothes for our trip to the ER. He yelled at me for wanting to change my clothes before heading to the ER. I guess he doesn't know me as well as I had assumed. After so many years of caregiving I should have my own parking space out front although I am rarely there for myself.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">While we were waiting for me to get stitched up my friend said " well, I guess you're not going to the shore on Tuesday". "Like hell" I protested. Frankly, it hadn't crossed my mind with all the commotion. "If I have to go in an ambulance, I'm not missing this trip again!"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Did I mention that although I'm a terrific and brave caregiver, I'm a horrible and cowardly patient? I'm fine with blood. ....other people's blood. My blood, not so good. I hate needles. I've only had stitches one other time. I'm thinking it might be a good time to pass out until it's over. I didn't pass out even though the lovely doctor kept telling me how "ugly" the wound was and that "it wasn't going to be one of those nice scars" and then added "I'm going to have to stitch it open because I can't pull it together". I still didn't faint, but I wanted to. Instead, I explained that I'm a coward and asked the kind doctor to get me an nice little anti-anxiety pill. She obliged and while I was being x-rayed and examined, the pill had time to take me to a better place. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikaTjNvI35RSLUmPgOLggQ1JL6yN6iMU_7dxubR1LWzWznsfxWwnscgP9RLixDKBArXBW4H7uwXXzgJj6fyLUJ3EJSbM2HXPoQWc3CnO7Bo-VqBLOAw_Zf4gBeXz_cW9KOJvUldGwlpzpl/s1600/better+living.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikaTjNvI35RSLUmPgOLggQ1JL6yN6iMU_7dxubR1LWzWznsfxWwnscgP9RLixDKBArXBW4H7uwXXzgJj6fyLUJ3EJSbM2HXPoQWc3CnO7Bo-VqBLOAw_Zf4gBeXz_cW9KOJvUldGwlpzpl/s1600/better+living.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I got stitched up [without fainting], asked the doctor about swimming in the ocean on my vacation [told "NO"] and even managed to have my mom's aide drive us out for dinner that evening. Perhaps the dinner wasn't such a good idea. In the middle of dinner Niki the aide looked at my leg and noticed that I was hemorrhaging through the bandage. On the way home we made a side trip back to the ER. Yes, twice in one day...and now it was mid-evening and the place was mobbed. Anyway, I got patched up and sent home to spend lots of time with my leg elevated and not much else.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Vacation day finally arrived. I decided I was OK to drive and I was going to go even if it meant bringing medical supplies and of course, eliminating the "swimming" portion of the trip. Yay! The shore at last! I walked a lot. I played tons of mini golf. Everything was swell. No, really, swell. Or perhaps I should say "swollen". My leg swelled from my toes to my knee. I called a doctor friend and was assured I'd be OK if I kept it elevated as much as possible and that did work.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My trip was short but great. I didn't / couldn't swim but that was OK. There was a lot of summer left and I'd get more chances to swim when the stitches came out after 10 days. To ease back into being at home a friend invited me to a workshop of a new play. Perfect! It was a beautiful sunny Sunday. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We sat in the theatre thoroughly enjoying the show. A short time into the show I was thinking to myself "I know it's hot out but I wonder who it is that stinks". This was odd because we were surrounded by some pretty well know celebrities and theater people. It wasn't until intermission that my dear friend said to me: "look, I know you hate doctors but you have to promise me you'll go to the doctor tomorrow. I think your wound is infected because it smells". She was, of course right. I had been smelling my own leg wound! I hope no one from the CLOSER reads this!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">OK, trip number three in 10 days to the ER. Hell yes, infected. So much for having the stitches out and resuming my summer activities. Antibiotics and 5 weekly visits from my mother's wound care doctor the last stitch came out 2 weeks ago. I'm as good as new but the original doc was right about not being "pretty". No leg modeling in my future.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So far it's been a great summer. Anyone else who shares my seasonal depression will understand just how important my summers are to me. I forged ahead with my summer party plans. I streamlined a little but I was determined the "show would go on".</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">DOG DAYS OF SUMMER</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqu1OWG1zokT4qPapVgWKO6nFmkepqtvJaNpj6O7Rbm6lcybBJVu5WnLzcjJNNtWKFgkNOG5izhBqEO70ki8NYl8vPAP71wJdc2_wxp6J_2p4xypzBfzgoa_wfpgAfKEc9Ft466IiERQAu/s1600/mick+bath.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqu1OWG1zokT4qPapVgWKO6nFmkepqtvJaNpj6O7Rbm6lcybBJVu5WnLzcjJNNtWKFgkNOG5izhBqEO70ki8NYl8vPAP71wJdc2_wxp6J_2p4xypzBfzgoa_wfpgAfKEc9Ft466IiERQAu/s320/mick+bath.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">About 10 days before my big party my wonderful old pal Mickey, who had a rather large tumor, began to bleed where the tumor had ruptured. I tried to tend to him but I couldn't get things under control. This guy is over 13 years old which is very old for a golden retriever. I felt so sorry for him but knew I had to muster the strength to do the right thing. I kissed him goodbye and I sent him off to the animal hospital to be put to sleep. I sobbed like a child along with a dear friend who was helping me through this. This is the same friend who told me my leg was rotting.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The day you get a puppy is the same day you begin to dread the eventual day that you are going to have to say goodbye to him. We picked up his bowls and gathered his toys from around the house because I didn't want to stare at them. My friend left. I moped. The phone rang. It was the Vet calling to tell me that Mickey was in good enough shape, even for his age, that they could remove the tumor safely and that we didn't need to euthanize him. Oh, it was, of course, going to be expensive.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When you're grief stricken and get a reprieve how can you think about cost? I think they know that, the doctors. Now if I say "go ahead with the original plan" I feel like a murderer. It's one thing to put your friend to "sleep" when it's the right thing to do but quite different if he can be helped. Of course I gave the "OK" for the surgery. Money be damned.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Mickey did very well with the surgery even though it took twice as long, he had to stay in the hospital twice as long and the cost was three times as much as the estimate! After some recuperation, my dear old pooch is doing just great. I keep telling him I want to change his name from Mickey to Jaguar because I could have had a new car with what he cost me! Still, that is the most happy news of the summer. Instead I tend to call him Lazarus because he came back from the dead.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My summer soiree came off without a hitch. The weather was wonderful. My friends and I had a really great time. Some of my high school mates that were at the party hadn't seen one another in 30+ years! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Since the party I have seen the babies a few times, my mom has been doing well, my leg is healed and I'm OK'd to swim, dog is amazingly well and summer party was a huge success! We have also had a 5.8 earthquake, a direct hit by a hurricane, some locusts, plague and a meteor hit but we survived.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This summer is not one that will ever be forgotten. Our lives were forever altered. We will always see Kate in her two beautiful and precious gifts to us. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I am looking forward to a wonderful autumn!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>OK blog readers, I'm back! </b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I hope you get back in the habit of visiting here.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-8208402797151466702011-05-13T13:08:00.000-04:002011-05-13T13:08:33.781-04:00FOODIE FRIDAY RECIPE - BAKED RICE PUDDING<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Oven-baked rice pudding is one of my favorite desserts. I like it with a lot of custard, cold and with a dollop of whipped cream. You can have it either way but I prefer mine without raisins. Sometimes I like diced dried apricot and/or slivered almonds but usually I'm a "purist".</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">This is a simple, flexible recipe sure to satisfy.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Whenever I make rice in my handy electronic rice cooker I make extra. I like to have it on hand to throw in soup or make into Spanish Rice or use it for rice pudding. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5wTUXvzoNOIZPswWNOw3odkWVO9x3AW2cXX81ARgT__qiZBONNYLYIkYRLcINzVODWmvtSf__RMPtMRP5c05i1qGPQfXI0RJwY5LcolpgCVpfQOUmmn9j7p721vPxJ00_vUOOVmzdkvO9/s1600/rpinglass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5wTUXvzoNOIZPswWNOw3odkWVO9x3AW2cXX81ARgT__qiZBONNYLYIkYRLcINzVODWmvtSf__RMPtMRP5c05i1qGPQfXI0RJwY5LcolpgCVpfQOUmmn9j7p721vPxJ00_vUOOVmzdkvO9/s1600/rpinglass.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Ingredients:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1.25 cups cooked white rice [not instant variety]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">2.5 cups milk</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">.5 cup sugar</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">4 large eggs, lightly beaten</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 vanilla bean + .25 tsp. pure vanilla extract</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">.5 tsp. ground cinnamon</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">.25 tsp. fresh grated nutmeg</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">pinch of ground cardamom [optional]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">.75 cup raisins [optional]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">butter for coating baking dish</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh900GIMpUHtyHxPq3bBzaUBVk9ZBwVOasbF8JJrGs4JGfDb-K5yDaf-ToF-fXzlp0Ywl7Xz03EJ2qbOeFWnrT1N3SvwqhZ1aB1fpsKi99Gzd5m7yndEJp2GOqFGaumBXQws1KR5di8Sp1o/s1600/van+bean.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh900GIMpUHtyHxPq3bBzaUBVk9ZBwVOasbF8JJrGs4JGfDb-K5yDaf-ToF-fXzlp0Ywl7Xz03EJ2qbOeFWnrT1N3SvwqhZ1aB1fpsKi99Gzd5m7yndEJp2GOqFGaumBXQws1KR5di8Sp1o/s1600/van+bean.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Method:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Begin by soaking vanilla bean in the milk for 20 minutes. Preheat oven to 325* and grease an 8" X 8" baking pan with soft butter, place the pan inside a 9" X 13" baking pan and put aside. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Combine eggs, sugar and spices and slightly beat.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4RngWi8iLDRRw1_6IKkLI4SA-AqW5u8mbJKGF1peFb9r2LCs5JBAmHQy3NWX0i92Y1_mtHH-tLGeUnx78RHznfMDUinLHk8Qu0_t4Dbxa9hXNFB8ROHy8n6Dvp8yYtGkp4ctnZZfMps5F/s1600/nutmeg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4RngWi8iLDRRw1_6IKkLI4SA-AqW5u8mbJKGF1peFb9r2LCs5JBAmHQy3NWX0i92Y1_mtHH-tLGeUnx78RHznfMDUinLHk8Qu0_t4Dbxa9hXNFB8ROHy8n6Dvp8yYtGkp4ctnZZfMps5F/s320/nutmeg.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Remove the vanilla bean from the milk and reserve. Add milk to eggs and lightly beat with a whisk.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">With a sharp knife, split the vanilla bean and remove the seeds by scraping with the dull side of the knife. Add the seeds to the liquid mixture.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyBpQdzb59fQwMSdTOBXg8RQ_A9ywZiI2lUvMpj733nvVSftBtBHWz5K-lHG5ma-CY0Ljtske-0f3cjM841ECm0lAlR0bO2Ryp3k2qjRZbNqy4uj-VG2sZ9atCrsLeIsjNB-7vFyON5vkD/s1600/rice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyBpQdzb59fQwMSdTOBXg8RQ_A9ywZiI2lUvMpj733nvVSftBtBHWz5K-lHG5ma-CY0Ljtske-0f3cjM841ECm0lAlR0bO2Ryp3k2qjRZbNqy4uj-VG2sZ9atCrsLeIsjNB-7vFyON5vkD/s1600/rice.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Add the cooked rice and stir. Add the raisins [if you're one of those people] and pour the mixture into the prepared smaller pan.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRs9KtLE1fblHl3abF2DwR4F8fXIxvhWstL-cPtKI04-dosF348SdL92SzoeFm0oCnuUdZkRkXdvLkXkwkeoS6tSgWmBUAgBHVjaepwEr0DnM716NIr3bl0mfLJGwrgRvpnsiYKbjGuLbs/s1600/in+pyrex.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRs9KtLE1fblHl3abF2DwR4F8fXIxvhWstL-cPtKI04-dosF348SdL92SzoeFm0oCnuUdZkRkXdvLkXkwkeoS6tSgWmBUAgBHVjaepwEr0DnM716NIr3bl0mfLJGwrgRvpnsiYKbjGuLbs/s1600/in+pyrex.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Move the double pan set-up to the oven and fill the outer pan with about 4 cups very hot water to make the water bath.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Bake for 30 minutes, stir and then bake for an additional 20 minutes. Carefully remove from oven and allow to cool before serving. I like to refrigerate mine before eating.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Enjoy!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-25184451111106664502011-03-31T12:18:00.000-04:002011-03-31T12:18:26.591-04:00SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Online Radio Interview</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">On Tuesday April 5th at 8:30 PM Eastern time I will be intereviewed on the HealthyPlace Mental Health Radio Show, an online radio show that airs over the HealthyPlace.com website. The show is focusing on Adult Children of Parents with Alzheimers. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">They will also place a small blurb about me on their website.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I hope you will listen to the show. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.healthyplace.com/mental-health-radio-show/">CLICK HERE TO GO TO THE RADIO SHOW AND SITE</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-4393122594765642502011-03-24T11:27:00.002-04:002011-03-24T20:26:50.789-04:00PRUDENTIALISM<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Prudentialism</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> is a </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moral" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">moral</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> principle based on precautionary principles that are acting to avoid a particular negative effect."</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">wikipedia</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;">Recently I noticed a woman walking aimlessly near my home. As I watched her amble in the cold and fading daylight I realized that it was an elderly neighbor from a couple of blocks away. I knew her. She was a college friend of my mother's and like my mother has Alzheimer's disease. This is not someone who should be wandering alone so I gingerly approached her, introduced myself to her and asked if I could help her. She graciously refused my assistance explaining that she was out for a walk. "I'm fine" she proclaimed in a thin voice, "I'm not ready to go home".</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;">I didn't want to scare or upset the wandering neighbor. This is not the first time I have seen her out and about. I know her husband is also up in years but I also know that they have a caregiver. I called their home and explained to the husband that I had seen and talked with his wife but she refused my help. He thanked me and said that they were looking for her and would take care of bringing her home.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;">Shortly thereafter I got a call from a police officer asking me where I had seen the neighbor as he was helping to locate her. Later I got a call from the husband to let me know the wanderer was home and to thank me once again. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;">This time there was a happy ending. I'm still worried about their situation because what will happen the next time if they don't make any changes to their environment. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;">"Roaming" is a particularly frightening problem with dementia patients but it is only one of many serious yet preventable dangers not only for dementia patients but for the elderly at large. There are many tricks, aids and gadgets to solve the common threats. The time to become familiar with them is before you need them. The time to implement them is also before they are needed. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Roaming:</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;">The issue of roaming can be easily addressed both for prevention and recovery. For prevention, there are inexpensive electronic alarms that can be placed on exit doors. You can even place them on internal doors for nighttime monitoring within the home. These simple, battery powered alarms sound if a door is opened to alert you. They can be purchased over the internet, from your local Radio Shack and even from "As Seen on TV" at your local mall.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhubenwtZzmGK-_GkWm6S78ZABw42Nl1EllLwAhmdSYgdZk7TjJVq2kVCjOtbfNlVqVbbZwaStXwCZx0B9lVKXaT8mekSe2p6M-EtES8EH8vw465VjuD97_ieaCqHfH1W65bALgTwQPjfZi/s1600/dooralarm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhubenwtZzmGK-_GkWm6S78ZABw42Nl1EllLwAhmdSYgdZk7TjJVq2kVCjOtbfNlVqVbbZwaStXwCZx0B9lVKXaT8mekSe2p6M-EtES8EH8vw465VjuD97_ieaCqHfH1W65bALgTwQPjfZi/s1600/dooralarm.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;">Recovery devices are more expensive but there are GPS services available. The patient wears a bracelet with a GPS device that you can track from home. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Safety in the home:</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;">The average home is filled with hazards. Danger lurks around every corner. The first danger to address is the one place we should all feel safest: the bed. I have heard so many stories from fellow caregivers about parents falling out of bed. Some have found a parent on the floor hours or even days after the fall. If your love-one isn't ready for a full hospital bed you can easily and inexpensively outfit a normal bed with side-rails. They can be found at stores that sell infant and children's furnishings, major chain toy stores, on the internet and through surgical supply stores. They are simple to install and to use and worth any cost to prevent injuries.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCjhO1wjgOLziIlG6z7Mp6dJXN-MxA9cRTAZ02PtCZw3XninAkiOPDrJRQ-JFfq-0nyg6zaQ-EPpOIac4nqXhmHZa5ZvwUK8wqHRRRurYOHD6kJdjbq7X_jk4V8BteBGtnroFwq8pHbjN0/s1600/bedrails.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCjhO1wjgOLziIlG6z7Mp6dJXN-MxA9cRTAZ02PtCZw3XninAkiOPDrJRQ-JFfq-0nyg6zaQ-EPpOIac4nqXhmHZa5ZvwUK8wqHRRRurYOHD6kJdjbq7X_jk4V8BteBGtnroFwq8pHbjN0/s1600/bedrails.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;">If the patient is still self-ambulatory it is imperative that you install rails at key locations around the home. Showers, toilets, stair landings and near entry doors. These may require pro installation but they are a must.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjan9iUou5foA-HITDctpQ-kqU_v8BARGKbpccsQbX4LJHX115vphBnHCHh0uRu4x98ve29j51Zixr3nBFasstbBqHKIrw44-8aUvj8dz94OoYbcJGrF5Fk3y9_vq81dpyZasuJNQuIDeP4/s1600/toiletrails.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjan9iUou5foA-HITDctpQ-kqU_v8BARGKbpccsQbX4LJHX115vphBnHCHh0uRu4x98ve29j51Zixr3nBFasstbBqHKIrw44-8aUvj8dz94OoYbcJGrF5Fk3y9_vq81dpyZasuJNQuIDeP4/s1600/toiletrails.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgdDOjwx934TJGZyzlPc5mqwhstBIwpu-keW6vZGvajBhP7gsyi3ewcWmHHjTqs4tLgBdIIPY76XrbupIACuSH0C5B6E-2XZBHaHX8De20WhuWsMOT2v1MRRYzLbS5DYD8vphU9-AXyiyo/s1600/rails.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgdDOjwx934TJGZyzlPc5mqwhstBIwpu-keW6vZGvajBhP7gsyi3ewcWmHHjTqs4tLgBdIIPY76XrbupIACuSH0C5B6E-2XZBHaHX8De20WhuWsMOT2v1MRRYzLbS5DYD8vphU9-AXyiyo/s1600/rails.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Stairs pose a particularly worrisome challenge. There is a remedy. It is costly but effective and safe. It will extend the time your loved-one can safely move about the house, prolonging "normalcy". It is the stairlift. They can be either purchased or rented and there are many styles to suit your needs and your home. We have had ours for over 10 years and it was well worth the investment. These are available from specialty sources which can be found on the internet or in your phone directory yellow pages.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBdJguGw8q_fiDKf3g4OuTjgPJ69qS-_0kVUDsps4RFUyRB8DL3fNjMjzLWXUs5b1DIDXPTBamKEDmfjb10naWxaxUWPlW0AzMQrLU3X62T_cWUHwuShbGep1GJ_3jFqrJESTAtrHA17ne/s1600/stairlift.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBdJguGw8q_fiDKf3g4OuTjgPJ69qS-_0kVUDsps4RFUyRB8DL3fNjMjzLWXUs5b1DIDXPTBamKEDmfjb10naWxaxUWPlW0AzMQrLU3X62T_cWUHwuShbGep1GJ_3jFqrJESTAtrHA17ne/s1600/stairlift.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;">The next item may seem daunting but it for the benefit of both patient and caregiver. The Hoyer Lift. This is a pneumatic winch and sling system used to lift and transport a bed-bound patient. The patient can be lifted in either a seated or prone position. One person can easily lift the patient for bed changes or to aid in transport from bed to chair, etc. This has been a back-saver for me and I think my mother actually enjoys the ride. Medicare will pay for this rental if it is medically prescribed.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5-oqZvYpz1E6S0dUnWqcERDYl_mFwREdKBBPk7YAGF-OHqtSd2n-fN66cRgWH3iGWBCj0yvNYBlbUQYW5TBc9TVrO3kprudqCtE-Pg0ASe2BzHK7yTUS5lXDNnnMtbeZ6sNjuEN341NRV/s1600/hoyer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5-oqZvYpz1E6S0dUnWqcERDYl_mFwREdKBBPk7YAGF-OHqtSd2n-fN66cRgWH3iGWBCj0yvNYBlbUQYW5TBc9TVrO3kprudqCtE-Pg0ASe2BzHK7yTUS5lXDNnnMtbeZ6sNjuEN341NRV/s1600/hoyer.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;">Of course there are also small precautions to be taken such as removing obstacles and scatter rugs. Another precaution is to check the temperature of your hot water. Make sure it is not hot enough to scald if the patient dials it up to high.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;">Please evaluate your home or your loved-ones' home and make any improvements you think are necessary. This will save you hours in the ER as well as fending off feelings of guilt. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"An ounce of prevention" really is "worth a pound of cure".</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></span></div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-86325301501284759572011-03-11T11:33:00.000-05:002011-03-11T11:33:10.194-05:00FOODIE FRIDAY RECIPE - IRISH SCALLOP "PIE"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhybqWjVH0UcqmPcU6zl4hoitf9oABuq5LUFvJ4weRWcPtiF9cCjHf8Ap0FIXYeIUxhji4Dy80PVU6FNnAHRIDwNjxI9IkrG5uEoi8ANL0vLaqVID3N4NcitoZY9vIIDGfT7IMPrcrF-4ot/s1600/st+pat+card.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhybqWjVH0UcqmPcU6zl4hoitf9oABuq5LUFvJ4weRWcPtiF9cCjHf8Ap0FIXYeIUxhji4Dy80PVU6FNnAHRIDwNjxI9IkrG5uEoi8ANL0vLaqVID3N4NcitoZY9vIIDGfT7IMPrcrF-4ot/s320/st+pat+card.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">If it's "Irish" you know it has potatoes! This is a delicious variation on Shepherd's Pie and perfect for the Lenten season. The recipe calls for baking in the traditional "pie" shape but I also like to bake it in ramekins for individual servings as a decadent first course.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiFUZiJxICLLYJKzQk5SjmCI-ojZANCtdcDOrrPHgqHXyynncUpQKDCmVqAF_n-64cdzAmejKL_w6QbdDCleHgTUgk579Lez6u4oInXhMrHsBvQDjsjBXBtik79UsDGPJdy6pGJWNwvJsR/s1600/shep+pie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiFUZiJxICLLYJKzQk5SjmCI-ojZANCtdcDOrrPHgqHXyynncUpQKDCmVqAF_n-64cdzAmejKL_w6QbdDCleHgTUgk579Lez6u4oInXhMrHsBvQDjsjBXBtik79UsDGPJdy6pGJWNwvJsR/s1600/shep+pie.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Ingredients:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1.5 pounds fresh large scallops</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 carrot [diced]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1/2 tsp. salt</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1/4 tsp. freshly ground black pepper</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">3 tablespoons butter</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 generous tablespoon all purpose flour</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">8 sliced white mushrooms</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1/4 cup cooking sherry</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 cup light cream </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">3 cups mashed potatoes [prepared]*</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 egg</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhazW3Q-sWcaZv61b0VPEsIMS0yRtlWY8p8poHBJhBIJNUv3EEjPFAn2DVwCEAXSE3GbcmCJ9Y0Hr1p0zrKXu20ZuCikhwuxh-gWrjnROl1y-7equ6sxY0RQatMggcaFpoWsJqwWShcJtmC/s1600/mashed+potato.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhazW3Q-sWcaZv61b0VPEsIMS0yRtlWY8p8poHBJhBIJNUv3EEjPFAn2DVwCEAXSE3GbcmCJ9Y0Hr1p0zrKXu20ZuCikhwuxh-gWrjnROl1y-7equ6sxY0RQatMggcaFpoWsJqwWShcJtmC/s1600/mashed+potato.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Method:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Preheat oven to 350*</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Prepare mashed potatoes as you normally would but beat in 1 egg and set aside. This is also an excellent use for leftover mashed potatoes!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Rinse the scallops and quarter them. Poach them in the light cream, salt and pepper for 15 minutes.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE_Z_HROecJ0d0vGXidy8vayCjL8f1DbvaCyKjsZJCx92wvhflWdjenMv_WAQoSJnHlHMd8nEQzGhjTGkJ3Uhufi14i4E2H9S7jlriSWiy8Iw2BkzdFvcXXGL6hZMcOSDjoekLRImfj39t/s1600/scallops.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE_Z_HROecJ0d0vGXidy8vayCjL8f1DbvaCyKjsZJCx92wvhflWdjenMv_WAQoSJnHlHMd8nEQzGhjTGkJ3Uhufi14i4E2H9S7jlriSWiy8Iw2BkzdFvcXXGL6hZMcOSDjoekLRImfj39t/s1600/scallops.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Parboil the carrot, drain and set aside.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA6-vTmOY_kZDPw-W8WA0Ak2roUHdHhJJ-RVzRH1kUSDVoc8uHFUe8EJFWgoQnMAUFJMlU9wC0-D0WKKINBFWg6Pa0iWrimZB2_qRPxvEWbNDgZPEwK2h5fhKhHSayR8lljZN41pbYRBIC/s1600/shrooms.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA6-vTmOY_kZDPw-W8WA0Ak2roUHdHhJJ-RVzRH1kUSDVoc8uHFUe8EJFWgoQnMAUFJMlU9wC0-D0WKKINBFWg6Pa0iWrimZB2_qRPxvEWbNDgZPEwK2h5fhKhHSayR8lljZN41pbYRBIC/s1600/shrooms.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">While the scallops are poaching, melt the butter in a small sauté pan and sauté the mushrooms. When the scallops are done, drain but reserve the warm light cream. When the mushrooms are softened, stir in the flour and mix well. Then add the warmed light cream and the sherry while stirring constantly. Remove from heat, add the scallops, sherry and carrot.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Transfer the scallop mixture to a casserole dish [ceramic pie or quiche dish works well]. Cover with the mashed potatoes and dot with additional butter if desired.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Bake for 25 minutes until lightly browned.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Serve with soda bread and your favorite ale.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Happy St. Patrick's Day!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">*prepare mashed potatoes with milk, butter, salt and pepper. A tub of prepared mashed potatoes from your grocer's refrigerated section [Country Crock, Bob Evans, etc.] are a great shortcut trick for this.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-68953895995097333642011-02-24T13:02:00.001-05:002011-02-24T19:41:36.967-05:00CAREGIVER AS MANAGERThe word "caregiver" conjures up images of healthcare, companionship and moral support. What many people do not consider is that so much time is devoted to being a manager. The amount of paperwork can be staggering. Bureaucracy is intimidating. If caregiving is stressful, managing is exhausting and mostly unrewarding. When one signs on to be a caregiver for a loved one they never expect that the total realm of the job will take on that of CEO.<br />
<br />
When my aunt Theresa began to fail at the age of 93, my sister and I had to step in. Luckily she had appointed us as Power of Attorney several years earlier. This legally enabled us to act on her behalf in her best interest. At first I took over her bill-paying and straightened out her finances. She had always been meticulous but the early stages of dementia had taken its toll on her book keeping.<br />
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When her condition further deteriorated, we had to make the difficult decision to place her in a nursing facility. Now what were we supposed to do? After the limited time that insurance would pay for her stay, the facility charges a staggering $355.00 per day. That is roughly $11,000.00 per month. I continue to think of how luxuriously I could be living on that kind of money for housing. <br />
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Theresa owned her own modest two-family home which we would have to sell. Trying to sell any home in the current real estate market is difficult and time consuming but a house that hadn't been updated in 50 years was going to be impossible. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJjhDpXHuuZLVm2k6SVN4yjBUd7QxLHA5CjOEgHV9M6qGMKNGomCPhix1Xcpmio_5suvKxvzW4M1Q19xFGFCIFgUgGqllq1JiUQ1BOQcjwU1tn6HE2fBctGMsNRbyF6-UMobuCZ27fdt_i/s1600/IMG_0199.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJjhDpXHuuZLVm2k6SVN4yjBUd7QxLHA5CjOEgHV9M6qGMKNGomCPhix1Xcpmio_5suvKxvzW4M1Q19xFGFCIFgUgGqllq1JiUQ1BOQcjwU1tn6HE2fBctGMsNRbyF6-UMobuCZ27fdt_i/s320/IMG_0199.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After quite a bit of research I decided that a reverse mortgage would be our best hope. The reverse mortgage process was simple enough and took about 5 weeks from start to finish. Now the paperwork had begun! First there was the application process which required copies of documents which I had to hunt down. Then there was a required phone interview. Then, finally the closing process. The closing required my signing in no less that 130 places on the documents. Not only did I have to sign, but I had to sign in the extended and clumsy legally required "owner's name by my full name 'as attorney in fact'". That was quite a challenge for a guy with Carpal Tunnel problems! It was made worse because they changed their mind as to the exact signature format half-way though the process and I had to go back and revise all those signatures.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc29myLup-L55NARLgyQGkrcYXvX0dxIvjCMt5uRq8xPixeCpDx_I91oo7wwqhq7lOM51VLxXi1vGaXauwZid3HbXSfTVF4hCDp-PAp3xGCRb-ZJCTpT-5D1arosLI2dV7ksruyO5WcfOe/s1600/are-reverse-mortgages-a-scam-or-a-good-deal_259381229_070c45579c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc29myLup-L55NARLgyQGkrcYXvX0dxIvjCMt5uRq8xPixeCpDx_I91oo7wwqhq7lOM51VLxXi1vGaXauwZid3HbXSfTVF4hCDp-PAp3xGCRb-ZJCTpT-5D1arosLI2dV7ksruyO5WcfOe/s320/are-reverse-mortgages-a-scam-or-a-good-deal_259381229_070c45579c.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>I chose to go with a reverse mortgage because it would buy time. I could use some of the funds to pay the nursing home. I would use some funds to renovate the house in order to make it salable. I would allocate some of the money to fund everything while waiting for the house to sell. I figured it gave me about a year to have the house sold.<br />
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Before any real work could get started, my sister and I had to spend several weeks sorting through my aunt's possessions. Not only is this tedious and back-breaking, it's emotionally draining. It's thought provoking when you see what a life boils down to. As a side note, I went home every evening and began to sort though my own possessions and make donations.<br />
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We did months of renovations to the house. I hired a contractor, electrician and plumber. We used four large dumpsters for building debris and a large part of fifty years of accumulation. We donated huge amounts of clothing and household items to charitable organizations. <br />
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Anyone who has ever experienced home renovation or has seen "The Money Pit" understands what a management job this is. Planning, design, decisions, budget, permits and delays rule your life.<br />
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Finally the house is finished, the tenants have vacated, the house is "staged to sell" and the realtor is chosen. More paperwork for the realtor agreement. The house is officially "on the market".<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL10eExBqGyTvxBh627QHXDqELSkV48svwc0Dea7s441vB4Npex66FudxqEQsJo9pyOheYH1OlGNiinRTUC8R8qFLCsPOzLxriRXRV8is3-ldgGiOmD3qDqGYzjN65MXjS1pOqS7AQ-sVY/s1600/realestate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL10eExBqGyTvxBh627QHXDqELSkV48svwc0Dea7s441vB4Npex66FudxqEQsJo9pyOheYH1OlGNiinRTUC8R8qFLCsPOzLxriRXRV8is3-ldgGiOmD3qDqGYzjN65MXjS1pOqS7AQ-sVY/s320/realestate.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">All that work, time and money paid off. We had a buyer in less than a week! In any market economy that would be impressive and in this "burst bubble" it was amazing. Now more bureaucracy: sign the contracts, wait for home inspectors, haggle over required upgrades, and spend more money for asbestos removal.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1NfNhQg_3CfFfHdm0ko0S3ky_YoSGLqGUip6k6yjJrhrijXuAEuNGQfreXWCwk87cmr1FfQ-jzGp50484RjjUCz5PxTFRQ98QiC3cFeHnfSOUj9OPvk-01cK32g-yWCYXyvULvwBy4HK9/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1NfNhQg_3CfFfHdm0ko0S3ky_YoSGLqGUip6k6yjJrhrijXuAEuNGQfreXWCwk87cmr1FfQ-jzGp50484RjjUCz5PxTFRQ98QiC3cFeHnfSOUj9OPvk-01cK32g-yWCYXyvULvwBy4HK9/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now the waiting game. We found the buyer in 6 days. The buyer had to wait months for financing. We had to continue to carry the house. Now winter was here which meant I had to heat the house. Not only did I have to heat the empty house but I had to worry about heating the empty house through blizzards, sub-zero temperatures and storms. I had to keep checking to be sure the heat was working. I had to keep the snow shoveled. I had to worry about vandals.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Finally after several postponements it was closing day for the sale of the house. Oh, good. More paperwork, more [full, legal, expanded] signatures. Done! No more worry about the empty house. The "albatross" had been removed from around my neck. I'm ecstatic! Free sailing from here on out, at least as far as the property was concerned.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOQxRB0cxyIFuTJiCM7dh0wVCdaTv1N0D5_A03DswgvqnGpVet_ssGsIaagWqTYGLxQRQRMflnxut4Zg5UwX4OJGpmZQhOhZgE2IsP73_80umiAWkWPc2qA8KNWm3ImCs5MJiKl1UUrcJs/s1600/red+tape.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOQxRB0cxyIFuTJiCM7dh0wVCdaTv1N0D5_A03DswgvqnGpVet_ssGsIaagWqTYGLxQRQRMflnxut4Zg5UwX4OJGpmZQhOhZgE2IsP73_80umiAWkWPc2qA8KNWm3ImCs5MJiKl1UUrcJs/s1600/red+tape.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>That feeling of liberation and satisfaction was brief. Now it is time to apply for Medicaid so that when all of my aunt's hard-earned money has been used to pay for her nursing home stay, the government insurance will begin to pick up the tab. "Government" is the operative word here. Not only do you have to spend your life's savings but then there is a 50 page application to be filled out. Along with that application you have to submit endless amounts of supporting documentation. You have to provide five years of bank statements, receipts for expenditures over $3000.00 each and every other form of legal document you can think of. You have to dig up everything from birth certificate to tax returns, marriage certificate, spouse's death certificate...and the list goes on.<br />
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I'm half-way though collecting the required documentation. So far the stack of copies on my desk has reached 20 inches. It is a nearly impossible task to document someone else's life this way. My aunt was very fastidious about keeping records and document and I am still having a dreadful time filling in the blanks.<br />
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I can't wait to get back to only having to worry about my normal duties as caregiver for my mother. Sitting quietly doing my own personal work will be a pleasure.Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-56880904100382861072011-02-18T10:04:00.000-05:002011-02-18T10:04:10.818-05:00FOODIE FRIDAY RECIPE - ITALIAN RICOTTA CAKE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Italian Ricotta Cake</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinhTKrxz3LeMCaZjC5okwo8IowgR_fQOEZ6gEA1ty2xIU1meGtPfcwjciakpfMOpD0j42CYw9AIOudEW8N0AwuN1NF2iCY9YLQPuJLq93b-wDMtNwGIkRWF0SAeHOe8uj-7U1Wo__wWVLk/s1600/mb2g16_ricotta_cake_lg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinhTKrxz3LeMCaZjC5okwo8IowgR_fQOEZ6gEA1ty2xIU1meGtPfcwjciakpfMOpD0j42CYw9AIOudEW8N0AwuN1NF2iCY9YLQPuJLq93b-wDMtNwGIkRWF0SAeHOe8uj-7U1Wo__wWVLk/s320/mb2g16_ricotta_cake_lg.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">This is a wonderfully simple recipe which is actually an embellishment to a boxed cake mix. A guaranteed pleaser, when I serve this for company everyone begs for the recipe. My family loves it. My friends love it. I love it. Don't let the rustic appearance fool you. This cake is moist and creamy, light and satisfying. There is a cake layer on the bottom with the scrumptious ricotta cheese layer on the top. You can bake it in one large rectangle cake pan but I prefer to bake it in two 9 inch round pans. I usually put one of the baked cakes in the freezer for a future treat!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj314dtxYu6FaYFC1FfliMVP2lCE1uQrn7zw-_Ft_kIaRmvJyrBqp4jAEFIM6RRMUuHRtWAxXto_dguIFZqLNCcj_W9OCbwTAIk1-AuVQUx0l1WWR0VhB-ykof6foZeNu_mpN8CFyCKrMIV/s1600/duncan-hines.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj314dtxYu6FaYFC1FfliMVP2lCE1uQrn7zw-_Ft_kIaRmvJyrBqp4jAEFIM6RRMUuHRtWAxXto_dguIFZqLNCcj_W9OCbwTAIk1-AuVQUx0l1WWR0VhB-ykof6foZeNu_mpN8CFyCKrMIV/s1600/duncan-hines.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Ingredients:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 package white cake mix* and ingredients listed on box</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">in addition:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">4 eggs</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 cup sugar</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">2 pounds ricotta</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 teaspoon vanilla**</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0MlMiIT3-YPUPJlFfp4Pkr5kPtii-Mkwlnfj-nv8ayupdDvtVCcbZbGXCncbxSN8BXEZEqOWVSJWJzQmsVM9ZSZuZEKWjCzbmioIao_-sf7m4qxZo5UDr-oEpJ1FVwMvhwPCFBQcuqV9c/s1600/ricotta-lg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0MlMiIT3-YPUPJlFfp4Pkr5kPtii-Mkwlnfj-nv8ayupdDvtVCcbZbGXCncbxSN8BXEZEqOWVSJWJzQmsVM9ZSZuZEKWjCzbmioIao_-sf7m4qxZo5UDr-oEpJ1FVwMvhwPCFBQcuqV9c/s320/ricotta-lg.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Method:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Preheat oven to 350*</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">grease and flour 1(9 x 13) or 2 (9" round) pans</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Prepare cake mix as directed on box and pout into prepared pan(s).</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVRhGAVwRC_6KDjHROk3ndv9E-i52rVe6LlPuNzwoknaBzCa7o9FS303-k9iq5iA4kFVYGsUWU6a2SLqc3pkjzrn-DKv65wl8ZWJrQa3KHJ8fivAVEpKElvMVWJAg3eMrZ4nckfbLQXdU9/s1600/eggs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVRhGAVwRC_6KDjHROk3ndv9E-i52rVe6LlPuNzwoknaBzCa7o9FS303-k9iq5iA4kFVYGsUWU6a2SLqc3pkjzrn-DKv65wl8ZWJrQa3KHJ8fivAVEpKElvMVWJAg3eMrZ4nckfbLQXdU9/s320/eggs.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">In the same mixing bowl that you used for the cake mix, combine eggs, sugar, ricotta and vanilla and mix well. Pour cheese mixture over the cake batter in the pan(s).</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Bake in preheated oven 1 hour 10 minutes for the rectangle or 50 minutes for the round cakes. Cakes are done when golden and firm.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Cool in pans.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Turn out onto plates or tray and dust with confectioner's sugar just before serving.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I like to serve this with fresh raspberry puree drizzled on the plate.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">*yellow or flavored cakes can be substituted</div><div style="text-align: center;">**orange juice or Amaretto can be substituted</div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-66267291755602495922011-02-04T20:13:00.000-05:002011-02-04T20:13:47.359-05:00FOODIE FRIDAY RECIPE - PASTA e CARCIOFI<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Pasta with Artichokes</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ5plYMN9GJUfGJejDIOYdmIKMjLXoTfRqvDgdk5wvARA7Xut8PeV2GWPJb4xdDOoQP-Z62-ficKzhZB60BMiimtvhJ-1OQC1jVXlJN-55aLIfDyzyrPv3Iu-ksscJKV4jPDgeyUA_QF-A/s1600/ac+hearts+pasta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ5plYMN9GJUfGJejDIOYdmIKMjLXoTfRqvDgdk5wvARA7Xut8PeV2GWPJb4xdDOoQP-Z62-ficKzhZB60BMiimtvhJ-1OQC1jVXlJN-55aLIfDyzyrPv3Iu-ksscJKV4jPDgeyUA_QF-A/s320/ac+hearts+pasta.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">This is a very simple, delicious and flexible recipe. Light and satisfying, you can add, remove or substitute vegetables and even shrimp or clams. I Like to keep mine to about 4 main ingredients served over angel hair pasta.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe8IlOwqu4E5QsSbrWHg0wnrvcKhr-hhr35dZaOR4vPybNizNBro9xfBZKm0GDNQYP9GSuEss6yB_APsTGI5RRmwbSJbQ1Af61727VZ9DTITkp0QocE4gB-2KKpT45eRR7Tco9fnWJo-G9/s1600/anonymous-pasta-2409294.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe8IlOwqu4E5QsSbrWHg0wnrvcKhr-hhr35dZaOR4vPybNizNBro9xfBZKm0GDNQYP9GSuEss6yB_APsTGI5RRmwbSJbQ1Af61727VZ9DTITkp0QocE4gB-2KKpT45eRR7Tco9fnWJo-G9/s320/anonymous-pasta-2409294.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Ingredients:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">1/4 cup olive oil</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">1 stick salted butter</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">1 clove elephant or 4 cloves regular garlic [chopped]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">One 10 ounce bag frozen artichoke hearts</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">2 carrots [peeled and rough chopped]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">2 tablespoons chopped onion</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">2 tablespoons sliced sun dried tomatoes [in oil]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">6 leaves fresh basil</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">1 teaspoon salt</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">1/4 teaspoon fresh ground black pepper</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">1 cup canned garbanzo beans [optional]</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Freshly grated Romano or Parmesan cheese</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Prepared pasta of choice</span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4W4Mrykw86ZFxeeTCBG50zVBO4Po_-0fDVm9NAuPzCgTPoQ0Kol4U4Ob0P3V3e3GSpbRJTiYJ9IEHIBfpiibRQN8tY-bZCsh94zp7tHVOpYLgr6N37SuAZayVsgNUgEo_qlqsoEXoG2TT/s1600/02artichokes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4W4Mrykw86ZFxeeTCBG50zVBO4Po_-0fDVm9NAuPzCgTPoQ0Kol4U4Ob0P3V3e3GSpbRJTiYJ9IEHIBfpiibRQN8tY-bZCsh94zp7tHVOpYLgr6N37SuAZayVsgNUgEo_qlqsoEXoG2TT/s320/02artichokes.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Method:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
In a large skillet, combine oil and butter and let the butter melt over medium heat. Boil the carrots until just fork-tender. Cook the artichoke hearts in microwave as directed on package. Sweat the garlic and onion in the oil until translucent but do not let brown. When the garlic/onion are cooked, add the drained carrots and the artichoke hearts. Continue to simmer on low and add the </div><div style="text-align: center;">sun dried tomatoes, oregano, salt, black and red pepper [to taste]. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrZD2dhvqWU73NIYGHKSpBMLPp7tTlKcEGj8dJoIzKGBNffs8iIeCrvGCl2mPmPJNWe4ji-q3GbUhwXs_rZAONRqzPfqcZ2uae9omRAO_omjibM0Nwp_OjXHqDIJARBt61-tB6Ibk4rg6M/s1600/SundriedTomatoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrZD2dhvqWU73NIYGHKSpBMLPp7tTlKcEGj8dJoIzKGBNffs8iIeCrvGCl2mPmPJNWe4ji-q3GbUhwXs_rZAONRqzPfqcZ2uae9omRAO_omjibM0Nwp_OjXHqDIJARBt61-tB6Ibk4rg6M/s320/SundriedTomatoes.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"> Drain pasta, reserving 3/4 cup of the cooking water. Toss in a large bowl with the artichoke mixture. Add reserved cooking water as needed for a shiny, moist dish. Toss in the basil.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">Serve with grated cheese at the table.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-47017632703738852042011-01-30T22:29:00.004-05:002011-02-01T19:30:51.950-05:00UP TO THE PRECIPICE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1_70lRU64ET2H00Gt5MlHA5d4odOW-E9qv-GaZc6rLO6PHDmiEuTH69Q9Oczo4Ca1VJhoImw3yKi_EtTwRP4L0sjldkOTKDsds23beCHlB0FESCjlUk3vRNCcZjlyQKAmq0app56yWvw7/s1600/glo+crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1_70lRU64ET2H00Gt5MlHA5d4odOW-E9qv-GaZc6rLO6PHDmiEuTH69Q9Oczo4Ca1VJhoImw3yKi_EtTwRP4L0sjldkOTKDsds23beCHlB0FESCjlUk3vRNCcZjlyQKAmq0app56yWvw7/s320/glo+crop.jpg" width="214" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Gloria Eleanor Clemente</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;">Gloria was a strong woman. Except for one serious hospitalization I never remember her ever being sick. If she was ever sick she certainly never let it stop her. Hardy stock those Clemente women. Enviable for their strength, determination and longevity. Gloria was my mother's next younger sister and would be 89 years old now. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Sometimes strength can also be translated as stubborn. Stubborn can masquerade fear. Fear can hide embarrassment. Nine years ago Gloria began to have some "female" problems. After doing her best to hide her discomfort she finally confided in my sister who urged her to see a gynecologist. After much persuading from the family, Gloria went to the doctor. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">The doctor immediately referred her to a specialist for what turned out to be cancer of the vulva. The specialist performed quite radical surgery during which Gloria encountered some surgery-related problems. After a very difficult recovery period she was doing remarkably well. At her six month check-up the doctor was very pleased.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">By the time the one year check-up rolled around Gloria had once again been hiding additional symptoms. The doctor made the pronouncement that the cancer had returned. If an original diagnosis of cancer is bad, reoccurrence is much worse. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">By this time early signs of dementia had been surfacing. Signs easily recognizable to a nephew who had been taking care of his mother with Alzheimer's disease for a dozen or so years at that point. The dementia combined with the problematic previous surgery ruled out another surgery. My sister and I were in agreement with the surgeon. We agreed to a consult regarding radiation therapy. We also agreed that we would not tell Gloria the extent of her condition because of the dementia. These are very difficult but pragmatic decisions caregivers are faced with. I decided it was more humane not to keep her completely informed.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgkAupkXmBi9ENBXXXs3gFKwzwYPPYPxCeaKttoRpPDrxeI6Dcg7LI3CgDYVlcd7QONlZY8bTP30WcfHd5tZUfu86o6xvU-b5e5JHGPrd2ABZAlWTXHJFehTcm0HxAJ8gyIG7YJKTsSoQ2/s1600/sisters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgkAupkXmBi9ENBXXXs3gFKwzwYPPYPxCeaKttoRpPDrxeI6Dcg7LI3CgDYVlcd7QONlZY8bTP30WcfHd5tZUfu86o6xvU-b5e5JHGPrd2ABZAlWTXHJFehTcm0HxAJ8gyIG7YJKTsSoQ2/s320/sisters.jpg" width="157" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">The visit to the radio oncologist was devastating. The doctor examined Gloria and then made an excuse to speak with my sister and me alone. She said the treatment would be excruciating. It would require weeks of burning treatment with frequent hospital stays. I asked the prognosis and the doctor said she thought Gloria would have four to six months with the treatment. "With the treatment"! My sister and I were stunned. I looked at Patricia who was now in tears and then asked the doctor to please give us the information for Hospice. There was no way we would put my aunt through torture for such little gain.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">The doctor was lovely. She said she was hoping we would choose Hospice and promptly contacted them for us. We agreed that we would tell Gloria that her discomfort was part of the healing process, knowing that she would never be able to get thought the months ahead of her if she didn't have hope. We knew what we were in for.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Within the week the Hospice representative was in my kitchen getting things started. That was the first night I slept in a while because I knew I wouldn't have to face this tragedy alone in my home. Now I had Gloria on Hospice and my mother with her advanced dementia. I had been thrust into running a de facto nursing facility.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Hospice was miraculous. There were people to take care of Gloria. Supplies would magically appear at my front door. There were numbers to call if [when] I was feeling overwhelmed. Hospice looks after the whole family.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Overwhelmed happened. Even the strongest of caregivers is mortal. Between the stress of both patients, the parade of strangers through my home and seeing Gloria in ever-failing health, I ended up with pneumonia. It wasn't horrible but it was a warning for me to take care of myself. That is a caution to all caregivers: TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF! It's akin to the instructions on an airplane that "in case of loss of cabin pressure ...put the mask on yourself first and then help others".</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Ultimately the excruciating pain exacerbated Gloria's dementia. My wish had been to make it through the holiday season which was about three months after the onset of Hospice. We made it gingerly though Christmas but on New Year's Eve morning I was awakened at 7 to Gloria hollering. She had gotten dressed and made it downstairs, which was miraculous, and was in full psychotic break. She was no longer in pain but had been transported, in her mind, back 40 years. She was calling for my father to take her to work. My father had been deceased for 30 years at this point.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I called Hospice and ultimately made the decision for Gloria to go to their cancer wing at a local hospital that they served. There were more ups and downs but I was able to rest knowing that she was being well taken care of. I knew that I was no longer able to provide the comfort and care that was required to make her final time comfortable.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Seven years ago this week I got the 5 o'clock in the morning call, in the middle of a blizzard, telling me that Gloria had passed away. The pain and suffering were over. None of our lives would ever be quite the same again. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Pushed to my limits I was forced to learn so much from this experience. An experience that no one wants to face but so many of us do. I found strength and compassion that I never knew I had. I learned more about caregiving and Hospice and bureaucracy than any post-graduate degree could ever offer. An education I never wanted.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Never feel that you have to face these challenges alone. For end of life, Hospice is there to ease the burden and the trauma. At other, less serious, times there is Visiting Nurse. Consult your physicians. Turn to your clergy. Utilize the help that is out there for you. It's never going to be easy but at least it becomes more bearable. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-14817592814953802192011-01-21T11:48:00.002-05:002011-01-21T17:12:01.790-05:00FOODIE FRIDAY RECIPE - PIZZA<div style="text-align: center;">PIZZA!</div><div style="text-align: center;">The word alone makes most people smile. That perfect combination of home made bread, tomato, cheese opens the door to an endless variety of personalization choices. For me, the basic combination is all I need but once in a while I splurge with some fresh asparagus or leftover meatballs or shrimp. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">There are few aromas that can compete with that of pizza baking in your oven. The rich cheeses, the aromatic basil and the slight acidity of the tomato all get your memories flowing and your mouth watering.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I am going to give you the basics, including the dough recipe. I promise not to frown if you choose to use a fresh pizza dough from your grocer's refrigerator or from your local bakery. They are fairly readily available and perfectly acceptable. Please do not used one of those pre-formed packaged pizza / focaccia shells sitting on the shelf next to the white bread.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_sOs7Xjrh20qTBxrO_Lu1XuMfs5ki-yTp6Kwi5m6v9n6ue1IgnFIHh8rd4uRDMROySnI_Af0kmI_NmUhucaXI16TV9sOjwRbErVXqmXU8_QDtazOAOuAwM_RAfVGwW95Ha23YMQfgSteH/s1600/rustic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_sOs7Xjrh20qTBxrO_Lu1XuMfs5ki-yTp6Kwi5m6v9n6ue1IgnFIHh8rd4uRDMROySnI_Af0kmI_NmUhucaXI16TV9sOjwRbErVXqmXU8_QDtazOAOuAwM_RAfVGwW95Ha23YMQfgSteH/s320/rustic.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I do not usually advocate single-use or specialty gadgets but one item that I suggest you add to your collection of baking sheets and pans is an aluminum pizza screen. They are reasonably priced and help produce a wonderfully crisp crust.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrOu22Qh4_t6v90TdtVuhCjbeC8_GecwAQt-taUpwdm1et33zaC6W2iHiuZfJB1TvV0yiO3DPzEcFlOngw_yEz3Qw9qMJxEUDgO2uxzAVcYsozezpUKU0d6lQI-dqCNCDWK_JgClhDVbZt/s1600/15-aluminum-pizza-screen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrOu22Qh4_t6v90TdtVuhCjbeC8_GecwAQt-taUpwdm1et33zaC6W2iHiuZfJB1TvV0yiO3DPzEcFlOngw_yEz3Qw9qMJxEUDgO2uxzAVcYsozezpUKU0d6lQI-dqCNCDWK_JgClhDVbZt/s1600/15-aluminum-pizza-screen.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Ingredients:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">[for the dough]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 package active dry yeast</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1.5 cups room temperature water</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">3.5 cups all purpose or bread flour</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 tablespoon salt</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 tablespoon olive oil</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLoolnIm4Hvaf2LihN-4-UPnbCvIDTl8sYNQYF6c7td1GKcmffoMAENAiOBeG-qjxO9LpzLth9B_4H828wMYhw98EdXwL75FwcHEXEr4XL-V78lMoucQcS9C2F6lwVB2IsrI4jUfUHtnQh/s1600/00096-8oz-Artisan-Mozzarella-and-Provolone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLoolnIm4Hvaf2LihN-4-UPnbCvIDTl8sYNQYF6c7td1GKcmffoMAENAiOBeG-qjxO9LpzLth9B_4H828wMYhw98EdXwL75FwcHEXEr4XL-V78lMoucQcS9C2F6lwVB2IsrI4jUfUHtnQh/s1600/00096-8oz-Artisan-Mozzarella-and-Provolone.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">[for the topping]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">2 cups shredded cheese [I like the mozzarella/provolone mix]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1/3 cup grated Romano or Parmesan cheese</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">6-10 fresh basil leaves</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">2 teaspoons dried oregano</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 teaspoon salt</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 tablespoon olive oil</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 cup tomato puree</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 small clove garlic, minced</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58sHeXBukyOOXsbX-FBuTxdhQxqCzeyvtk-6e9VKAhQxNyfOV-AwG9MCtFiLgTNx8YfutH0_dqoQyz1xvK_-9hb5GM-jMaIBzz_qU9KrC-aueiKtixiSrvoLatgIBG0JJnc_k7BmQbC_9/s1600/puree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58sHeXBukyOOXsbX-FBuTxdhQxqCzeyvtk-6e9VKAhQxNyfOV-AwG9MCtFiLgTNx8YfutH0_dqoQyz1xvK_-9hb5GM-jMaIBzz_qU9KrC-aueiKtixiSrvoLatgIBG0JJnc_k7BmQbC_9/s320/puree.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Method:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">[for the dough]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Combine the dry ingredients in the bowl of your stand mixer or in a large bowl if you are going to kneed by hand. Stir to mix well. Add the oil and all but 2 tablespoons of the water. Mix with the dough hook for 5 minutes. If the dough seems dry then add the rest of the water. Let rest for 5 minutes and kneed for another 10 minutes. Transfer the dough to an oiled bowl, cover with plastic wrap and let rise for an hour.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">[for the sauce]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">For pizza it is best to use a raw "sauce". Please don't use a pre-made sauce! Blend the tomato puree, garlic, oregano, salt and pepper. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Assemblage:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">When the dough has risen for an hour, turn it out onto a floured surface. I like to use a silpat mat for this but you can work directly on your counter top. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Preheat oven to 425*</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Rub some flour on your hands and begin to stretch the dough with your hands. At this point you can cheat and use a floured rolling pin to flatten and continue to stretch the dough until it is quite thin but not torn. This dough generally makes a 16" crust. Feel free to leave the dough in a free-form shape if you are unable to get it into the traditional round. I like the rustic look and then you can be sure your guests will know it is handmade!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWGZ4Tdy80mP5gOCkpyDAUMdnEeLlYeRO6fYAAMGbo7ow2SPk8x-k0UlW5O9ozkJ-izEF0-lzwt3X_09mCZfjVm3TOdiwnEVEVDiwcV-9-lyZb-DuF68-9g2oTf2IUkUdj4tA4ZmjwFCJ1/s1600/raw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWGZ4Tdy80mP5gOCkpyDAUMdnEeLlYeRO6fYAAMGbo7ow2SPk8x-k0UlW5O9ozkJ-izEF0-lzwt3X_09mCZfjVm3TOdiwnEVEVDiwcV-9-lyZb-DuF68-9g2oTf2IUkUdj4tA4ZmjwFCJ1/s320/raw.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Place the dough on the pizza screen or baking sheet and very lightly cover with the sauce. The sauce should barely cover as illustrated in the photo above. If you use more sauce than that the pizza will be soggy.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Sprinkle the grated Romano over the sauce. Now arrange the fresh basil leaves over the pie. Cover with the shredded cheeses and sprinkle with the remaining olive oil. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuuc7SShpy5ifUyWdTz5PaKZhIW1syn2K-2FN5WvFU9goUvU7cX6qQ6X93OQkDoFjA9VIUyca7tSk4wL7WPNqGcd85dSh-s7J9Pb_zeJK7uWs_sXr_yktqC3VKQ1fce4ettbA7NknaEq_J/s1600/basil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuuc7SShpy5ifUyWdTz5PaKZhIW1syn2K-2FN5WvFU9goUvU7cX6qQ6X93OQkDoFjA9VIUyca7tSk4wL7WPNqGcd85dSh-s7J9Pb_zeJK7uWs_sXr_yktqC3VKQ1fce4ettbA7NknaEq_J/s1600/basil.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFlWIzh3nvzGTOfDExJHj3Q4v9K4JJku7lBIy35_fkwFdVSJt6PKmqC7mr7f0JFM4N6fxv2OAfaS9d-d8lHzzL62pcoRCdA3KqLNNIQog0CfoFdJpYNNZBYOPCiy42MCQvQBYRlLv7d_FA/s1600/alice+lunch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFlWIzh3nvzGTOfDExJHj3Q4v9K4JJku7lBIy35_fkwFdVSJt6PKmqC7mr7f0JFM4N6fxv2OAfaS9d-d8lHzzL62pcoRCdA3KqLNNIQog0CfoFdJpYNNZBYOPCiy42MCQvQBYRlLv7d_FA/s320/alice+lunch.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Bake on middle rack for 20 minutes or until golden and bubbly.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgha3AUwfgnzYiRNKTXwgL-MUsX7ERhAH_Ku5-5IiyeHNfuQC5kiEiNiDWZhlAS-dOELN7d3i236NBRNWlXieBUKFgZutUj-7CexXxygdeeTcNhfOaIE3IKyytLSgEnNWvkFm1513S-RP-s/s1600/Pizza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgha3AUwfgnzYiRNKTXwgL-MUsX7ERhAH_Ku5-5IiyeHNfuQC5kiEiNiDWZhlAS-dOELN7d3i236NBRNWlXieBUKFgZutUj-7CexXxygdeeTcNhfOaIE3IKyytLSgEnNWvkFm1513S-RP-s/s320/Pizza.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Serve piping hot from the oven. You can also cut into bite-sized pieces and serve as an hors d'oeuvre.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"></span></div><div align="CENTER" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.14in; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-65767554081428401702011-01-14T20:22:00.002-05:002011-01-14T21:51:13.693-05:00FOODIE FRIDAY RECIPE - OVEN "FRIED" CAULIFLOWER<div style="text-align: center;">Crispy breaded cauliflower baked in the oven is a wonderfully delicious, simpler and healthy alternative to the fried cauliflower I grew up eating [and loving]. I made this tonight as a side dish to our Friday night family dinner and we could have easily made this the centerpiece of the meal. Crispy on the outside and creamy and sweet on the inside you're going to want to try this recipe / method with all of your favorite veggies.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxa0IN7IYEA2IVZxehA-8UHEfnCXKmr1xmWvRio2y8B4tUp17fqXK6utZ2FSPDzA9_L2erkzI0Zpl7tN1GauaZntkXJTPjZLhmaaUYXE4U5Qv__79R0POHdLN4ESzKZqY8AkEzkt4MvcHE/s1600/inflorescent-cauliflower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxa0IN7IYEA2IVZxehA-8UHEfnCXKmr1xmWvRio2y8B4tUp17fqXK6utZ2FSPDzA9_L2erkzI0Zpl7tN1GauaZntkXJTPjZLhmaaUYXE4U5Qv__79R0POHdLN4ESzKZqY8AkEzkt4MvcHE/s320/inflorescent-cauliflower.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"cauliflower is nothing but cabbage with a college education"<br />
mark twain</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Ingredients:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 head fresh cauliflower</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">2 eggs</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 cup plain bread crumbs</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 cup all purpose white flour</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1/3 cup milk</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">3 tablespoons grated Romano or Parmesan cheese</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">salt</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">fresh ground black pepper</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 tablespoon dried parsley flakes</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">1 tablespoon olive oil</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">non-stick cooking spray</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBpx0TR3kyzbcPdZ4Ia-XHFwar0jhoNe0X5dYxRbiKQ9LI8cdpeXKooBS8yJ6J70byq4HL2sVL2hOk-F1BjK2MgDnu9DkHacv8SxvnSEjII6hVK5khmBDt6xWhY4b6DqVD5-JvbDodBvPF/s1600/cauliflower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBpx0TR3kyzbcPdZ4Ia-XHFwar0jhoNe0X5dYxRbiKQ9LI8cdpeXKooBS8yJ6J70byq4HL2sVL2hOk-F1BjK2MgDnu9DkHacv8SxvnSEjII6hVK5khmBDt6xWhY4b6DqVD5-JvbDodBvPF/s320/cauliflower.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Method:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Remove any leaves from the head of cauliflower and pare the florets. Begin by turning the head on its face so the stem is facing up. With a paring knife, remove the large center core and discard. Remove the florets by hand in chunks as pictured above.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Rinse the florets in cold water and then place in a pot with enough water to barely cover. Add 1 teaspoon salt and bring to a boil. Lower to a simmer and cook for about 5 minutes until barely fork tender. Immediately drain and run under cold water until cooled. Place in a colander and set aside.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Preheat your oven to 425*.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Cover a baking sheet with foil and spray with non-stick cooking spray.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Now set up for the traditional 3 bowl dredging:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSOfY3wwJeL9znDsiBygchv9C9MWXuCA_2pfXCoBTHEHE2cTV_7y9XS_AYCpqgU8ZIJ_0e2JBiDJfqB4o0kCsNpPEIWsJ2HepDOHlkA55a0CoXumrDU-I3nO8UPP5Ap0c-_ZyKukADcA8p/s1600/trio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSOfY3wwJeL9znDsiBygchv9C9MWXuCA_2pfXCoBTHEHE2cTV_7y9XS_AYCpqgU8ZIJ_0e2JBiDJfqB4o0kCsNpPEIWsJ2HepDOHlkA55a0CoXumrDU-I3nO8UPP5Ap0c-_ZyKukADcA8p/s320/trio.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Bowl 1: flour, 1 teaspoon salt, 1/2 teaspoon pepper.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Bowl 2: eggs, milk, 1 teaspoon salt, 1/2 teaspoon pepper, parsley, cheese.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">[beat these together as for scrambled eggs]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Bowl 3: bread crumbs, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1/4 teaspoon pepper.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">One at a time dip a piece of cauliflower into flour, then egg wash, then roll in bread crumbs and then place on baking sheet.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">When all the vegetable is coated and on the baking sheet, drizzle with the olive oil and put into the center of your pre-heated oven.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5rHtFfCRyF8TnUaDyUaLirG8Cg2O_rQyBLgXwlLAtUmMzuhH1L60E1BjDgDHn8JmIx9gq860DgEgSh79x4JJO2DknNcnNYj2Uti5DazHgYVmNH58Cz2g4FQ4T0fVQEqCX6wZaNcm3fIwD/s1600/fried.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5rHtFfCRyF8TnUaDyUaLirG8Cg2O_rQyBLgXwlLAtUmMzuhH1L60E1BjDgDHn8JmIx9gq860DgEgSh79x4JJO2DknNcnNYj2Uti5DazHgYVmNH58Cz2g4FQ4T0fVQEqCX6wZaNcm3fIwD/s320/fried.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Bake for about 35 minutes until golden brown.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I prefer to serve these just the way they come out of the oven but you can certainly serve with your favorite marinara sauce or an aioli for dipping.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-83342542006181172622010-12-31T13:41:00.004-05:002010-12-31T20:51:50.735-05:002010: CIAO, ADIOS, ALOHA, AU REVOIR, AUF WIEDERSEHEN & GOODBYE<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Well, that was certainly a full, amazing bittersweet year! </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;">Nearly a full year has passed since I first introduced this blog. I began by telling a little about myself and my situation as caregiver. I proposed my mission and suggested what you might expect to find in upcoming posts. You met my mother and father and their sisters and brothers. I offered insights into family, friendships, caregiving, amusements, electronics, diversion and recipes. I shared some laughs and some tears and some good old-fashioned common sense. <br />
<br />
I created this blog as a writing exercise. I had reached that proverbial "writer's block" on some projects I was working on and thought this would be a way to keep nimble and work through the block. I also knew I had caregiving information that was worth sharing; hard learned information from my years of real-life experience taking care of my bed-bound mother facing the ravages of Alzheimer's disease as well has having taken care of her sister who had succumbed to cancer a few years earlier. <br />
<br />
I have been overwhelmed by the response I have gotten since my first post. The readership has constantly grown with dedicated fans from around the world. Letters I have received have touched my heart in ways I never expected. There are so many of you who are in caregiving situations, each with a personal story to share. You have been so generous with your compliments and gratitude. I am truly humbled. I am also grateful for the feedback you give me. <br />
<br />
I have received notes from long-lost friends and family as well as strangers and new friends. I have been sent wonderful anecdotes from my mother's former students. I have gotten thank you notes from other caregivers. I have gotten requests for topics and especially requests for recipes. My "Foodie Friday" blogs quickly became a huge success. My "Mini Golf Monday" blog just as quickly drew hate mail! Who could have known that people had such visceral feelings about mini golf? I have even gotten a couple of date proposals!<br />
<br />
I have postponed re-visiting some of my more popular posts because they were going to be too difficult to share until some time had passed. <br />
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</div>Last February I introduced you to my father's last surviving brother, Uncle Eddie and his wife Lena in a blog titled "THE HOUSE THAT TIME FORGOT". This was a very popular story and one that was especially dear to me. It was an account of my visit with my aunt and uncle and reunion with my cousin and her husband. What a great visit we had. At the end of the blog I wrote:<br />
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"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">We left as we had arrived, in a flurry of hugs and kisses and tears. There were more tears as we were leaving than arriving. There is no doubt that we were all having the same thoughts and wondering how many more of these wonderful visits there will be. We promised not to let another two years pass and certainly not to let another twenty in between visits with my cousin."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;">which turned out to be more insightful that I had hoped. That wonderful visit turned out to be our last visit with Uncle Eddie. This summer he left us to join his three siblings: Mike, Joe and Pat. The last of a generation is now gone. The sturdy brick house still stands but it is just a little more sad. My aunt now lives there alone with her memories and ghosts. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;">In "DIARY OF A MAD CAREGIVER" I introduced you to my mother's "Munchkin Sisters". I was on a rant about coming home to find my kitchen covered in strawberry juice and the ease with which they were always able to deny culpability. In "TRANSITIONS, DECISIONS AND BUREAUCRACY" I told of the struggle to get the elder sister into a nursing facility because of her declining ability to care for herself.</span></span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><span id="goog_1706160164"></span><span id="goog_1706160165"></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyqows9y2MB_Y2INgIHqZZygYEPP3bW2Nx8N21_L4Ee3WLyUl6cYJbhLPdZrvxg5Z1ztM3PubO4RkvJo7vUTDXc_jBeIvgMFzLJk8yZtf2q764aBtn7LOQuODQn7V04RCOQBk3JGJARFmZ/s1600/theresa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyqows9y2MB_Y2INgIHqZZygYEPP3bW2Nx8N21_L4Ee3WLyUl6cYJbhLPdZrvxg5Z1ztM3PubO4RkvJo7vUTDXc_jBeIvgMFzLJk8yZtf2q764aBtn7LOQuODQn7V04RCOQBk3JGJARFmZ/s320/theresa.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;">I was able to place Theresa into a facility where she immediately made herself at home. In the tradition of the Clemente women, she is amazing. Her attitude is great. She adjusted to her new life immediately. Her demeanor is positive and healthy. In fact, on the approaching of her 93rd birthday this summer, my sister informed her that we were going to have a little party for her at the home. In classic Theresa style, she said to Patricia: "you don't have to make a fuss. We'll have a big party when I turn 100. That's the important one"! You can't help loving this tiny dynamo. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;">The youngest sister, the one I referred to as "Baby Jane", has been failing quickly. She has always been the problem relative and that's not getting any easier. She can barely take care of herself and her home. Her memory is failing. She has always been difficult but now even more so. Getting care for her is going to be the challenge for the new year. Unlike the graceful sister Theresa, Baby Jane refuses help and/or change. She refuses to admit her decline. She, also, has no children but she has not taken the legal steps to give authority to anyone. I don't know how this is going to play out but I know it's going to be a struggle.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;">My mother Adelaide continues to defy her doctors. Just before Christmas we had another round with one of the "Scaregivers". My sister and I had been hit hard with a cold that was going around. Despite our hand-washing and face covering, eventually mom also got sick. This cold was an especially strong strain even for those of us blessed with good health. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5c0UtNcSxBwtTDDeztDoXbGi0P5CjcFSfkFWVZEc0pyqLsQebeFuAFWTU4oZRhq2aJ6Ba4tHgY6vehTuqT6hCYpkKTruzJ8j0N6PoinzQI80XwbuLK6czXcqeq6URVOhOI3LBPQbXMY7x/s1600/Ad+2007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5c0UtNcSxBwtTDDeztDoXbGi0P5CjcFSfkFWVZEc0pyqLsQebeFuAFWTU4oZRhq2aJ6Ba4tHgY6vehTuqT6hCYpkKTruzJ8j0N6PoinzQI80XwbuLK6czXcqeq6URVOhOI3LBPQbXMY7x/s320/Ad+2007.jpg" width="301" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;">It walloped dear Addie. I spent a few nights at her side making sure she was comfortable and safely positioned to help her breathing. I put her on oxygen to make her breathe more easily and made sure she was getting her nutrition and fluids. One of her doctors came for a scheduled visit. He walked into her room, heard her cough and saw her coloring and proclaimed to me and my sister that he "wouldn't be surprised if she didn't make it through the night". He proceeded to declare that she had pneumonia and her coloring was a sure sign that she wasn't going to make it. He called in a prescription for antibiotics and said to keep her on the oxygen and make her as comfortable as possible. I did notice that he was hedging his proclamation by ordering 3 refills on the medication. Even the hardiest of the naysayers knows the determination of Adelaide.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;">That was 12 days ago. It was a difficult 12 days but Adelaide never gave up the fight. Once again she persevered and thrived. She is happy and comfortable and has no plans to go anywhere yet. She is bathed in love and blessed with an awesome temperament. Her smile and laughs are infectious. Even in the throes of Alzheimer's she continues to be a role model.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;">As we age, holidays and the passing from one year into the new one become more precious, more steeped in nostalgia. I like to consider the holidays as being colored a little more blue than they used to be. The future is less uncertain than it was. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;">It is nearly 70 blog entries since I that first introduction. My "writer's block" is long broken. My life is full and rewarding and I am a grateful man. I am constantly learning, making new friends and bonding with dear old friends. Thank you for reading my ramblings. Please continue to share your thoughts with me. I will continue to share with you in the new year. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;"><b>To my fellow caregivers: be strong, take care of yourselves and look for the joy.</b></span></span></div></div></div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-34988615561172388752010-12-01T12:31:00.002-05:002010-12-02T11:02:38.854-05:00CAREGIVER V. SCAREGIVERS<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A hospital is no place to be sick</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">samuel goldwyn</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: left;">There are frightening times for caregivers when quick, and potentially, life or death decisions must be made. One of our major goals is to keep our loved ones at home where they can be comfortable, happy and relatively safe. There are times when that is not possible and knowing when to call 911 is an acquired skill but if you are scared or unsure, it is better to be over cautious then wait until it is too late.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Not too long ago my mother had been showing some signs that she was getting another one of her frequent bouts of urinary tract infection. Over the years I have become an expert diagnostician from sheer practice and vigilant observation. I consulted with her doctor and we agreed to start her on her normal course of antibiotics and increased liquid intake. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">The next day when I was performing our usual morning rituals I noticed an alarming rash beneath a covered section of her body. My mother was also lethargic and refusing food. This is always a bad sign with her. She has a great appetite normally. In the past, when these signs surface I know we're in for a tougher battle. I got some liquids into her and left her to rest for a little while.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">When I returned to check on Adelaide, about 20 minutes later, she was having difficulty breathing. This is far from normal for her. I elevated her head, ran for the phone and called 911. I know the signs and these were all bad. She was going to need intravenous fluids and higher doses of antibiotics for the infection and I was scared by her breathing.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">The paramedics were at my door in minutes. They're wonderfully quick to respond and good at what they do. They sprayed something in her mouth and put her on oxygen and whisked her to the hospital. The trip to the hospital is always scary because I fear the worst and don't know what to expect when she arrives. I was there waiting and now my sister had also arrived.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">She was stabilized in the ER. Her breathing was back to normal and she was immediately put on an IV of fluids in case of dehydration. Dehydration often accompanies the urinary tract infections [UTI]. Now the tests begin. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">As always, I suggest to the doctors that she has a UTI. As always, the doctors perform every test known to mankind before testing her urine. I know I'm not a doctor but I know my mother and this was probably her 10th trip to the ER for the same thing in 10 years. Up to this point I have been right 9 out of the 10 hospital visits.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">As you may recall from previous blogs, my mother has a wound [bed sore] which we have been treating for quite a while with weekly doctor visits, nursing and my constant tending. Suddenly this has become the focus of the entire ER staff. All the "red lights" went off. My mother was placed in isolation. Wound specialist is called in. Infectious disease specialist is called in. We're all forced to wear protective gear as they are sure my mother's infection is more than just another UTI. [of course the urine tests have not come back from the lab yet]</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">The wound doctor calls me in. "You take care of the wound?" he asks. "Yes" I answer along with the details about her doctor and nurse visits. "I know how difficult it is to take care of these wounds" he proffers before congratulating me on the condition and health of the wounds. "I looked you mother over from head to toe and her skin is in amazing shape for a woman in her condition" he adds. He didn't see any signs of infection from the wound!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Whew! I was much relieved. That's really great news but I wasn't surprised because the wound looked perfectly fine to me earlier that morning and there was no tell-tale sign of odor or pus.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Now it was the infectious disease doctor's turn to examine my mother. I don't hear anything from her but the nurses tell me that my mother's blood tests have returned with an elevated white blood cell count which means she does indeed have an infection in her system. I'm assuming that means it is indeed another UTI. She is finally sent upstairs to a hospital room. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">When we go to her room, in critical care, we are met by lovely nurses who tell us she is in isolation and we still have to follow procedures and wear gowns and gloves. This seems much for a UTI.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">By the next morning my mother, the champ, is doing better. She's alert and certainly looks better. I'm told her white blood cell count is dropping nicely. I'm starting to relax .....a little.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">That afternoon I got a call from the infectious disease "specialist" while I was at home resting. "This is very serious" she tells me. "The infection is coming from the wound and has gone to her bone and when that happens there is nothing that can be done for a woman of her age." I'm stunned. "But the wound care specialist said the wound was fine" I offered. "Infection can hide behind what you can see. Normally we would begin a long course of intensive IV drugs but your mother isn't a candidate for that invasive treatment. ...and we can't just send her home with oral meds because she can't swallow". "She can't swallow?" That's a new one on me. "We'll keep her here for a few days on the IV and then send her to a nursing home [to die]". </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Now I'm devastated and confused. I call my sister. We cry. We rush to the hospital knowing no matter what, she's not going into a nursing home. Not now. Not after all the years I've had her at home. I'll take her back home, bring Hospice in and we'll cope.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The temptation to form premature theories upon insufficient data is the bane of our profession.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">sir arthur conan doyle</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: left;">We arrive at the nursing station outside my mother's door and glance into my mother's room where she is sitting up and looking pretty good. The nurse looks up and asks us what's wrong so I tell her about the call from the wound "specialist". "We just gave your mother the swallow test and she did fine. She ate a cup of applesauce". Now I'm confused even more. Then she says "she said the infection was from the wound and it was to the bone? We haven't even swabbed for a culture yet". Now I'm angry. "What the hell [I may have said something more colorful] is going on around here?" </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">We go into my mom's room and I call the nurse so that I can take a look at the wound to see if there has been any change. The nurse is great and obliges. "DR. Lanni" is now on call. The wound looks great. They have been taking wonderful care of her. We ask for some baby food. They bring it and my mother ate it all!</div><div style="text-align: left;">Later I went out and got her a McDonald's vanilla shake. Kill or cure. I mixed in some Ensure powder and she ate at least a cup of the mixture. Again, I'm feeling better.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Our strength is often composed of the weakness that we're damned if we are going to show</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">mignon mclaughlin </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: left;">The next day is a milestone. A wonderful occasion. It is Adelaide's 90th birthday! There are better places to spend a birthday but my feeling is that any place you can celebrate being 90 is a good one! We bring ice cream. Family gathers. A dear friend shows up with a beautiful orchid. Mom is doing well. Her numbers are normal. She's off her IV. She's eating. We have been at the precipice and backed away once more.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">The following day we arrive at the hospital to find that my mother has been moved out of critical care to a normal wing. My sister is delighted. I'm cautious. We find my mother and introduce ourselves to the nursing staff at this station, which is around the corner and down the hall from her room, and they seem fine. There is an aide feeding my mother and he is kind and gentle with her so that's a relief.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Now the staff doctor has appeared on scene and summons me to the nursing station while sporting a dour look on his face. He begins to reiterate what the infectious "specialist" had told me a few days before. My suspicions were founded and they had indeed moved her to this room to die. Once again he suggests transfer to a nursing home and kissing her goodbye. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">"What about her wound culture?" I ask, grasping at hope. "It came back negative but.." he explained. "Infections hide. We could have tested a spot that was clean". "What about her white blood cell count?" I challenged. "It was 25000 when she arrived in the ER." "And now?" I asked. "7000". "What is 'normal'?" I wanted to know. I was told that was within the "normal" range. "What about the urine culture, what did that show?" He told me that had shown positive for "unspecified" infection. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Now let's recap: the wound culture was negative. The urine culture was positive. The white cell count is normal. She's eating and drinking. She's not on oxygen. All indicators are <i>good</i> so that means she's going to die? Am I hearing this wrong or am I once again faced with a doctor who looks at the checklist, puts them all together, factors in her age and her Alzheimer's and offers an opinion without factoring in the individual patient?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I go home and call a physician friend of mine for advice. I tell him all of her indicators and condition and test results at which point he stops me and tells me to get her home immediately before she does actually catch some hospital infection! Now I'm feeling better. I speak with my mother's weekly wound care doctor who also tells me to bring her home.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I listened to my instincts and the professionals who actually know her and brought Adelaide back home to her comfy bed, familiar surroundings, dog and people who love her. She brightened up as soon as she was placed in her bed. She was on antibiotics for another 10 days [orally, of course].</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">That was in August. She returned home to us August 10 which was 2 days after her grand 90th birthday celebration. She has been fine and happy. She continues to thrive, amaze and confound doctors.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I am fully aware that one day she will not return from that precipice. I try to be as prepared as one can possibly be. Each time we are faced with one of these situations I kiss Adelaide on the forehead and tell her over and over again: "I know you're scared. I'm here with you. I am going to make sure you have all the help you need if you want to hang on but I completely understand, with all of my heart, if you're tired of fighting and want to let go. It is your choice." I'm delighted that once again Adelaide chose life.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-51587551257090978842010-11-12T10:53:00.000-05:002010-11-12T10:53:58.051-05:00FOODIE FRIDAY RECIPE - GLAZED CHESTNUTS, FENNEL AND CARROTS<div style="text-align: center;">Here is a English vegetable side dish recipe given to me about 20 years ago by a friend from London after he served it at a dinner party. I have adapted it by adding carrots and pearl onions and by adjusting the proportions of the ingredients. I have found this to be perfect holiday fare. I don't usually like fennel but it is wonderful prepared this way. Sweet & sour, rich and decadent, this is truly worth preparing for your Thanksgiving or Christmas guests! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM_F8d2ZARMNPQjqo0FktJlv6baz-MXxL6JJD_Y72cqg38sLQ0PZRMozUOoMq2G0YHf-pwEcnXytP3Rk7-oCIqd3HH8bBXh17cQ7GTBfgKBP779O82ry_6nBkuCQLsFmQbpTGLbKblLhM6/s1600/glazed+chestnuts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM_F8d2ZARMNPQjqo0FktJlv6baz-MXxL6JJD_Y72cqg38sLQ0PZRMozUOoMq2G0YHf-pwEcnXytP3Rk7-oCIqd3HH8bBXh17cQ7GTBfgKBP779O82ry_6nBkuCQLsFmQbpTGLbKblLhM6/s320/glazed+chestnuts.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Ingredients:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">4 heads of fennel, quartered and washed</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I jar or can of chestnuts</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">4 carrots, peeled, quartered and cut into 2 inch lengths</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1/2 cup peeled pearl onions [frozen/thawed]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1/2 teaspoon dry fennel seed</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1 stick butter</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">3/4 cup balsamic vinegar</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1/3 cup muscavado sugar*</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKedbEWCLanVdhyWLo0EKGs9cRh7jWRFevRXvTlpYUduKY7SvQC47xjaaIcwifCy7ndilfpbAEk3EQYeT2wQctZsEju82OVFxi9fRsHHLN3YlZBHs15e0YW83gIdXuHvyXIp4M0Oz0DFw_/s1600/fennel-bulb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKedbEWCLanVdhyWLo0EKGs9cRh7jWRFevRXvTlpYUduKY7SvQC47xjaaIcwifCy7ndilfpbAEk3EQYeT2wQctZsEju82OVFxi9fRsHHLN3YlZBHs15e0YW83gIdXuHvyXIp4M0Oz0DFw_/s1600/fennel-bulb.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Method:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Cut the fennel lengthwise into quarters or sixths, wash and set aside in a large bowl with drained chestnuts and onions. Parboil carrots, drain and add to the other vegetables.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFryY4svxoDBW5RqWss1AFf7ROOFOg2ihIiEUOD3caHYF-HQOtY8NL95RxJyn29Ukm0sQSOlr2bRjY7GJp8YEGyItT5xtoRAY2lWkbWPJqaH3vnw7weatAEKrqGvSR4JRc8upRLIPowYh7/s1600/fennel_seed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFryY4svxoDBW5RqWss1AFf7ROOFOg2ihIiEUOD3caHYF-HQOtY8NL95RxJyn29Ukm0sQSOlr2bRjY7GJp8YEGyItT5xtoRAY2lWkbWPJqaH3vnw7weatAEKrqGvSR4JRc8upRLIPowYh7/s320/fennel_seed.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Spray a 9 x12 pyrex pan with cooking spray.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Pre-heat oven to 400*</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">In a medium sauce pan, melt the butter over medium-low heat. Add the sugar and melt until syrupy and then add the vinegar and the fennel seeds. Let cook for 1 minute, stirring.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Pour the syrup into the bowl with the vegetables and toss to coat. Pour the mixture into the prepared pan and bake for 45 minutes or until everything is soft and nicely glazed.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG_0cpSHPUAajNjdlXsSFwxy1jLWlfRJ7MqniWDlRt09GVGRxKEKa2ZqGtn2okiihFEyD42JywVt9EDye62ekJENyZp7V44VE3Ks5Yh59NAMSDHVluYpvf4swk103K6QvdNMpeV-spYYgN/s1600/ING-muscovado-sugar-2_sql.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG_0cpSHPUAajNjdlXsSFwxy1jLWlfRJ7MqniWDlRt09GVGRxKEKa2ZqGtn2okiihFEyD42JywVt9EDye62ekJENyZp7V44VE3Ks5Yh59NAMSDHVluYpvf4swk103K6QvdNMpeV-spYYgN/s320/ING-muscovado-sugar-2_sql.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">*</span>A specialty brown sugar sometimes called "raw" sugar, Muscovado sugar is less processed than regular brown sugar. Smoky, spicy and complex, this sugar has a nice fine texture. If it is unavailable you can substitute regular dark brown sugar for the Muscavado.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-75376917282973168292010-11-05T11:17:00.000-04:002010-11-05T11:17:42.912-04:00FOODIE FRIDAY RECIPE - FRENCH ONION SOUP<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXKWHMANj4xUfTbbQEBvN6dKHb3oB2qwH9YtdHY-W5s9sAqwPXHvRBMo-fFUVbOlf5OobZjnSFV_wtrUJkpXszt7lcpFEFOKzWNe3Z-dcxLgzhGeiaxFdi6892K0CbO6OdYrGYJc_yGhLR/s1600/eiffel_tower_night.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXKWHMANj4xUfTbbQEBvN6dKHb3oB2qwH9YtdHY-W5s9sAqwPXHvRBMo-fFUVbOlf5OobZjnSFV_wtrUJkpXszt7lcpFEFOKzWNe3Z-dcxLgzhGeiaxFdi6892K0CbO6OdYrGYJc_yGhLR/s320/eiffel_tower_night.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Classic French Onion Soup</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">[gratinee]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Messieurs et mesdames accueillir. Aujourd'hui nous cuisinons la soupe d'oignon. Welcome ladies and gentlemen. Today we are cooking onion soup.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">This is my personal adaptation of the French classic. Simmered slowly, topped with cheese and baked. The aroma of the onions, the look of strings of melted cheese from bowl to mouth and the incredibly rich taste transport me back to 1970. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I was 10 years old when my mother [the French teacher] brought me to Paris for the first time. I lived on onion soup, croque madame and stuffed artichokes for breakfast, lunch and dinner. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_4n4B6S4ZvsfxmYuQh7BCr83jEWDnmovxRg0GxcYTQB8j57CuCQUglymo7BKHRUtJGEeIqijn2SanSZjdRd0P8iX3WkC307QuYBzpnBI-2Yp6Hf4T2EPBtNT4gEjBexUSC8W3wN1R7_8E/s1600/vintage+paris+20's.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_4n4B6S4ZvsfxmYuQh7BCr83jEWDnmovxRg0GxcYTQB8j57CuCQUglymo7BKHRUtJGEeIqijn2SanSZjdRd0P8iX3WkC307QuYBzpnBI-2Yp6Hf4T2EPBtNT4gEjBexUSC8W3wN1R7_8E/s320/vintage+paris+20's.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Ingredients:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">4 cups white onions, peeled and thinly sliced</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">2 shallots, peeled and thinly sliced</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">2 cloves garlic, smashed</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">2 tablespoons butter</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">2 tablespoons olive oil</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">4 bay leaves</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1 teaspoon herbs de province</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">6 cups beef stock</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">2 cups chicken stock</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1/4 cup dry sherry</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1/2 tablespoon flour</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1 cup shredded gruyere cheese</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1 loaf French bread</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">2 teaspoons salt [to taste]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1 teaspoon ground black pepper</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-0ycr07l-yy-03ZGfJqN2tRfrdQo1_mMIUwllhZQc51H5OSgUDtL-Md8kgsEj5p6X4KKtg3SckmWbWIfvbvHnqvpYWPozwFN6ENL-Y5afqt3BCMvqlk3lIU10K620Xz37txBIMUYzDdRr/s1600/Onion_SuperStar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-0ycr07l-yy-03ZGfJqN2tRfrdQo1_mMIUwllhZQc51H5OSgUDtL-Md8kgsEj5p6X4KKtg3SckmWbWIfvbvHnqvpYWPozwFN6ENL-Y5afqt3BCMvqlk3lIU10K620Xz37txBIMUYzDdRr/s320/Onion_SuperStar.jpg" width="295" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Method:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">In a heavy 4 or 6 quart sauce pan heat the butter and oil over medium-low heat until bubbly and then add the onions, shallots and garlic. Sprinkle with the salt as this helps to break down the onions. Sautee slowly while frequently stirring until soft textured and nut-colored. This is a long process. Allow a good 15 minutes for the onions to develop their richness and caramelize but be careful not to let them burn. If they seem to dry during the process you can add more oil or butter as necessary.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIgsQB4mUxQMK9rv5EompiY62S1xSNmgdW6g0ktIIDF_Hpc3XspF3R6TeUs3FQFF0pvFN8etbMBLbsUOH9WT2eq0o5F0eFepWO_wBXw97AMePfTZUN5_NkKJjBRCltkTjFXoclGOol7zqA/s1600/fb570_2009-07-15-HerbesdeProvence.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIgsQB4mUxQMK9rv5EompiY62S1xSNmgdW6g0ktIIDF_Hpc3XspF3R6TeUs3FQFF0pvFN8etbMBLbsUOH9WT2eq0o5F0eFepWO_wBXw97AMePfTZUN5_NkKJjBRCltkTjFXoclGOol7zqA/s320/fb570_2009-07-15-HerbesdeProvence.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">When the onions have reached their desired stage, remove the pan from the heat and sprinkle with the flour, stirring well. Add the liquids and return to the stove. Stir well to remove any particles from the bottom of the pan. Add the herbs. Bring to a simmer over medium heat and then lower just to the simmer temperature. Cover and simmer for 40 minutes.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2muUMAmgcf0KaOTTfybrr9JZxt7v5yboSngVNSm9BEkoe8YT4iEuRrC73s1pDvCdqcf032AWJje_6kTFpQZiQKK6HSwd-dKZqM6GswYHAbIjQspfCwNgQB_YcaTTIV56Ef2eNf6T5v1iE/s1600/bruschetta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2muUMAmgcf0KaOTTfybrr9JZxt7v5yboSngVNSm9BEkoe8YT4iEuRrC73s1pDvCdqcf032AWJje_6kTFpQZiQKK6HSwd-dKZqM6GswYHAbIjQspfCwNgQB_YcaTTIV56Ef2eNf6T5v1iE/s320/bruschetta.jpg" width="270" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">While the soup is simmering, slice the bread into 1/2 inch slices and place the slices on a baking sheet and bake in a pre-heated 400* oven for 10 minutes or until lightly toasted. Be careful not to burn the bread! </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8z8xWaBH2BTha-iFRBoWQsWBI5p815e0XL-o7kM_OC5zx6gbzsQoXB3mT7-PPcrlPg9epWi0abvN-7z0rM3px8HD3zMfeqFwhZ70MxQRJ5M7WPYTakhIM6dsAMUW5YEo_lYUeXCrEJH1M/s1600/cheese.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8z8xWaBH2BTha-iFRBoWQsWBI5p815e0XL-o7kM_OC5zx6gbzsQoXB3mT7-PPcrlPg9epWi0abvN-7z0rM3px8HD3zMfeqFwhZ70MxQRJ5M7WPYTakhIM6dsAMUW5YEo_lYUeXCrEJH1M/s1600/cheese.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">While the bread is in the oven, it is time to shred and grate your cheeses and then mix them together. Gruyere is recommended but you can substitute mozzarella or even Monterrey Jack. When the bread is toasted, remove from the oven, raise the oven temperature to 425* and allow to heat to temperature.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Prepare oven-safe bowls such as ramekins by spraying with cooking spray and place them on a cookie sheet lined with foil. Remove the bay leaves from the soup and ladle the soup into the bowls 3/4 full. Lay 2 or 3 pieces of the toast onto each of the filled soup bowls and then generously cover each with the cheese mixture. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Bake for 10 minutes or until the cheese is bubbling and slightly browned.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLIWVP4YhZx0iQFnSHHXsJPlQ8cHxBYiMur3_WjPq0XmM7xsCm2ytezI1AGLhtncMaHGDI4YEF6q4WRSgu2O1dTJhIqjg89gqMqDKiK3eTHuniPjRu84yxp2jMAFcH3X-dzWCvpXF642Aq/s1600/remekin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLIWVP4YhZx0iQFnSHHXsJPlQ8cHxBYiMur3_WjPq0XmM7xsCm2ytezI1AGLhtncMaHGDI4YEF6q4WRSgu2O1dTJhIqjg89gqMqDKiK3eTHuniPjRu84yxp2jMAFcH3X-dzWCvpXF642Aq/s320/remekin.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Place the soup bowls on serving plates and serve with the remaining toasted bread and additional grated Parmesan cheese. Be sure to let the soup cool for a few minutes before enjoying or you are sure to scorch the inside of your mouth!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
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</span></div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-17224389526025355802010-10-29T12:49:00.001-04:002010-10-29T14:08:54.183-04:00FOODIE FRIDAY RECIPE - ITALIAN BREAD<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieV52TkfvsTlWwEK9oXMn5MoGa9WU7NCoi5Ry1TUq-UWK334IvCtmHwCKdcn7A5IslnrBpYreUz_ZS-_qO-xnriTnv66KFJLrfICE_WjdsSajFALKISyKJ6qIfee1qn5mZKpUyJFGeJSFX/s1600/making_bread.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieV52TkfvsTlWwEK9oXMn5MoGa9WU7NCoi5Ry1TUq-UWK334IvCtmHwCKdcn7A5IslnrBpYreUz_ZS-_qO-xnriTnv66KFJLrfICE_WjdsSajFALKISyKJ6qIfee1qn5mZKpUyJFGeJSFX/s320/making_bread.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is my favorite yeast dough recipe because it is straight-forward and very versatile. I use it for Italian bread, rolls, pizza, stromboli and calzones. If I'm using the recipe for one of the pizza type recipes I cut the measurements in half and only let it rise once. I make the dough in my KitchenAid mixer but you can do it in a large food processor and , heaven forbid, by hand. I use all purpose unbleached flour but you can also use bread flour or substitute half the white flour for wheat. I suggest you begin with the original recipe and save the experiments for later. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This recipe is basic and easy but it is not quick. Good bread-making takes time. The mixer eliminates most of the strenuous, back-breaking work but you can't rush the rising process. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPYa6pSYgwbz5-LmGBuZF1HEApqizy9WYTfzUj1CSAsVqcg4RtpbCeoPt97l5bPvKaOie6peJgov2a6JxleGD_7XK58XuCTrfkSse7_rvUn4RGt_5p_aMYLOUxKeRxDUt4oKIB4-AqLqXe/s1600/mixers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPYa6pSYgwbz5-LmGBuZF1HEApqizy9WYTfzUj1CSAsVqcg4RtpbCeoPt97l5bPvKaOie6peJgov2a6JxleGD_7XK58XuCTrfkSse7_rvUn4RGt_5p_aMYLOUxKeRxDUt4oKIB4-AqLqXe/s320/mixers.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">A few tips help assure a perfect product:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Make sure liquids are luke-warm at about 90*.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Be sure to use a glass container for proofing the yeast.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Be careful not to deflate the bread after the final rise.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Let the dough rise away from drafts.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Make sure the oven has been pre-heated for and additional 10 minutes before baking.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Have a good book or a DVD to watch in between risings.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZkY5aCbzFe7ZT1gAhQFlbRMEoDyFlT6cvgt7mQRgFwk-YMDgmHGSqZFZGEq8nMXwx8toaxHCmIRQPHmyETh6bcy3nI_nJYhxt_h4Fpb2TqywJfvTXa311Nyuv91J03m-DR9ZjrqSLXLwf/s1600/flour.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZkY5aCbzFe7ZT1gAhQFlbRMEoDyFlT6cvgt7mQRgFwk-YMDgmHGSqZFZGEq8nMXwx8toaxHCmIRQPHmyETh6bcy3nI_nJYhxt_h4Fpb2TqywJfvTXa311Nyuv91J03m-DR9ZjrqSLXLwf/s320/flour.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Ingredients:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">2 packages active dry yeast</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">7.5 cups flour</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">3 cups room temperature water</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1 tablespoon salt</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1 teaspoon sugar</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">2 tablespoons good olive oil</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1/4 cup corn meal or bread crumbs</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Method:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In a small glass bowl or measuring cup add 1/2 cup warm water and the sugar. Sprinkle the yeast over the sugar-water and set aside for 5 minutes or until you see bubbles form.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In the mixer bowl combine flour and salt and mix with a whisk briefly to combine. Place the bowl on the mixer and install the dough hook.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_rNWeLEsjr2XlUnltP3-_wUF9xgqja-9SLhO1nNX-5ot08oNbcWiXJwp6Ej3oEQEoNmZ_uexS0S6hp4GNCQNtQxNaUJDQMNkf4OmKtudOrf_XocqhIuIDeLRvVEdVDLsahGaZnSSl4Kdv/s1600/hook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_rNWeLEsjr2XlUnltP3-_wUF9xgqja-9SLhO1nNX-5ot08oNbcWiXJwp6Ej3oEQEoNmZ_uexS0S6hp4GNCQNtQxNaUJDQMNkf4OmKtudOrf_XocqhIuIDeLRvVEdVDLsahGaZnSSl4Kdv/s320/hook.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Now add the oil, 2 cups of the water and the yeast mixture. Lower the hook into the bowl and start on lowest setting to combine ingredients and then raise the speed to medium for 5 minutes. Turn off the mixer and walk away for 10 minutes for the dough to rest.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After the dough has rested and you have finished your cup of coffee, restart the mixer and allow to knead at medium to medium high speed for a full 15 minutes. Make sure you have the mixer on the back of your counter and keep an eye on it so it doesn't dance off and onto the floor. If the dough seems much too stiff you can add up to another half cup of water but add slowly and only as needed.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF8TKVMyt4m-84A9wRzOsd9VknGmsvOXVJKfhkgKEPlicXgnT1X8NiC_1aKELxHwkF16xcQMgHJ3oc3COpr4Ch9HHKbZTSlyTeXEswI-mjAZ27s9vCrh8oJKl6Iyr67DHhhz6OfI5Z3Vyp/s1600/baking+bread.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF8TKVMyt4m-84A9wRzOsd9VknGmsvOXVJKfhkgKEPlicXgnT1X8NiC_1aKELxHwkF16xcQMgHJ3oc3COpr4Ch9HHKbZTSlyTeXEswI-mjAZ27s9vCrh8oJKl6Iyr67DHhhz6OfI5Z3Vyp/s320/baking+bread.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">While the dough is kneading, lightly flower a bread board or clean dry counter surface with 1/4 cup flower. After the kneading, turn off your mixer and turn the dough out onto the floured surface. Knead by hand for about 10 turns of the dough. Form the dough into a ball. Lightly oil the mixing bowl and return the dough to the bowl and cover the bowl with plastic wrap and a towel. Set the dough in a warm place. The oven works fine so long as it is not turned on! Now the dough must rise for about 1.5 hours to what is called "doubled in bulk" stage.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90wQXTKKfCiw1Id2Iz8tuIBE4V6cOF5geGhTQbYLfUw7I4DwMQH38OIhx-4Mme7vL4yntwYFZASdZzu6vlQIx8pNiIs7o8OGqp7P4GrVJYHMZNAaCMXAPVajHMPFPgQBoHytvJpw5DLoL/s1600/dough+in+bowl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90wQXTKKfCiw1Id2Iz8tuIBE4V6cOF5geGhTQbYLfUw7I4DwMQH38OIhx-4Mme7vL4yntwYFZASdZzu6vlQIx8pNiIs7o8OGqp7P4GrVJYHMZNAaCMXAPVajHMPFPgQBoHytvJpw5DLoL/s320/dough+in+bowl.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Uncover the dough and press your fist right down into the middle of the risen dough and press the air out. Re-shape the dough into a ball, cover and set it back to rise again for about 1 hour this time.. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">During this rising time prepare a baking sheet by sprinkling with a thin layer of the corn meal.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After the second rising, turn the dough back out onto the floured surface. Divide the dough in half and form each half into a ball and place each on the baking sheet a few inches apart. Loosely cover with a damp cloth by draping the cloth of 4 large drinking glasses to keep it off the dough.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Allow to rise again for another 1 to 1.5 hours until doubled. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Preheat the oven to 375*</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">When the dough has finished the final rise, carefully remove the cloth and the glasses. Do not touch the risen dough! This is very important. Place the baking sheet in the middle of the preheated oven. Bake for 40 minutes or until nicely browned. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Remove the pan from the oven and allow the breads to cool.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk-4orL2jxoMSMEvs51iUsRVlGbbw8kt7E1LGZQ4B1PkKHHEtVOvkA11LYlRRifcmbORWHSTDHxACoKhyTXvucQexJYT0UtCK-e5cAHp2VTN8ktO9Y6PylGYFEG_PN__wd7EAnHO32gDxA/s1600/round+loaf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk-4orL2jxoMSMEvs51iUsRVlGbbw8kt7E1LGZQ4B1PkKHHEtVOvkA11LYlRRifcmbORWHSTDHxACoKhyTXvucQexJYT0UtCK-e5cAHp2VTN8ktO9Y6PylGYFEG_PN__wd7EAnHO32gDxA/s320/round+loaf.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span id="goog_818957386"></span><span id="goog_818957387"></span></div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-48736928713109006842010-10-26T11:53:00.001-04:002010-10-26T12:59:24.209-04:00EMPATHY - A VISIT FROM A VETERAN CAREGIVER<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Empathy:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">"The capacity to, through consciousness rather than physically, share the sadness or happiness of another sentient being."</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">wikipedia</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKPMUSjlRYoYEjuiJPTX6ZZW75BZrbujMThKWShBQkDOQf0_IE-LJpVfVDFjo5MQFocbERPFQFIVy4rbWjYYXKfGP7NIwQci3fLxyXAqJTPgdoGPLR6i361A6yvwm9CTYmYJ7ViXOcSBdV/s1600/Launer_Josef-ZZZ-Bouquet_of_Flowers_with_a_Snail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKPMUSjlRYoYEjuiJPTX6ZZW75BZrbujMThKWShBQkDOQf0_IE-LJpVfVDFjo5MQFocbERPFQFIVy4rbWjYYXKfGP7NIwQci3fLxyXAqJTPgdoGPLR6i361A6yvwm9CTYmYJ7ViXOcSBdV/s320/Launer_Josef-ZZZ-Bouquet_of_Flowers_with_a_Snail.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: left;">No matter how long you have been a caregiver or how confident you are in your choice to be a caregiver, reassurance and re-evaluation are always appreciated. Sometimes that "attitude adjustment" comes most unexpectedly and at a much needed time. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">"Between our birth and death we may touch understanding as a moth brushes a window with its wing."</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">christopher fry</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: left;">Last week I was having a small internal struggle with self pity. It happens. I'm sure it happens to everyone and it doesn't happen to me very often but there are triggers. There happened to be a "perfect storm" of triggers and while I wasn't dwelling or wallowing, I was preoccupied . </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Firstly, it's Fall. Yes it is beautiful. Yes the leaves are pretty. Yes I like the crispness in the air. <i>But</i>. I have been known to get "seasonal affective disorder" or "SAD" when the days start getting shorter and summer is slipping away. I know winter is coming and I get "the blues". I have my self-help tricks to lessen the symptoms and I'm usually pretty good at picking myself up.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Secondly, I had just returned from a very nice brief trip to visit friends in New England. {if you can't avioid Fall, plunge into it head on} It was a terrific trip. I had a lot of alone or "me" time which is rare for an at-home caregiver. It was just enough of a taste of freedom to remind me of how restricted and structured my life has become.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Thirdly, and this may seem petty but, a dear, much younger friend got a wonderful job promotion. I'm very happy for him and I'm not jealous but it did contribute to my thinking about how my life might have taken a different path.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">"Once we discover how to appreciate the timeless values in our daily experiences, we can enjoy the best things in life."</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">harry hepner</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: left;">It was a nice afternoon and I had gone outside to wrangle the trash cans that had been so thoughtfully tossed into the middle of the street by the "sanitation workers" when a car pulled to the curb, horn honking and driver waiving and smiling. I was busily swearing at the cans and muttering my usual litany about my tax dollars at work when the lovely woman emerged from her car.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">"Christopher" I heard as I looked up from my wandering trash cans. I was in a daze but the face was familiar. "It's Eileen" she said effervescently. "Yes, of course" I said as I came into focus. It had been years since we'd seen one another but I knew that we had a common bond.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Eileen told me how glad she was to catch me outside and that she had recently had a dream about my mother. She asked how Adelaide was doing and told me a familiar tale of how my mother had so positively effected her own life and how fondly she remembered her. She regaled me with anecdotes of my mother as teacher and human being. I always love those stories. I've been so fortunate to hear so many of them from people responding to this blog.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I knew that Eileen had lost her mother who was also an Alzheimer's patient. I didn't know that Eileen had been her caregiver. We immediately understood one another with that special shorthand that only caregivers understand. Eileen told me about her experience as caregiver. I didn't even have to talk about mine.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Eileen is so upbeat and positive and caring. She spoke of the joys of caregiving as if it were a gift. She expressed my usual thoughts of not wanting to trade the bonding and shared time spent with our mothers for any other life path. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I told her that my mother had been having a really great day and asked if she'd like to visit with her. I knew that she understood my definition of "having a great day" and she quickly accepted the invitation . When she approached my mother they both lit up. Eileen looked like and angel and immediately began speaking to my mother in French [the language my mother had taught her some 40 years earlier] and my mother beamed. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">"Cherish your human connections: your relationships with friends and family"</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">barbara bush</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">As Eileen was getting into her car she said "what I wouldn't give for one more hour of taking care of my mother". </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Thank you Eileen for helping me to regain my perspective and to center myself. At the end of every "perfect storm" there is a beautiful ray of sunshine and all is right with the world once more.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259246159964432777.post-81537721330355794882010-10-22T12:20:00.000-04:002010-10-22T12:20:47.541-04:00FOODIE FRIDAY RECIPE - PINEAPPLE CHEESECAKE<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">No Bake Pineapple Cheesecake</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpaUHZ-jM9vXgwO5ACNsjiSAAnckOeeqHwu03Fkr7-0evw29fboaF1fcywDLoMIAZ_lWYGieIXOlhyphenhyphenfM4qdgf3-N7ZHWF1jfHY2KbLXpyMejzgy_uwy6Y-2pGDzML2MaPIc6gVS0KOR7Nw/s1600/hula+girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpaUHZ-jM9vXgwO5ACNsjiSAAnckOeeqHwu03Fkr7-0evw29fboaF1fcywDLoMIAZ_lWYGieIXOlhyphenhyphenfM4qdgf3-N7ZHWF1jfHY2KbLXpyMejzgy_uwy6Y-2pGDzML2MaPIc6gVS0KOR7Nw/s320/hula+girl.jpg" width="238" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">This recipe was handed down to me from an old cousin of my mother's. She made this confection for all sorts of special occasions and it has always been a crowd pleaser. I've served it myself for a few dinner parties to "ooohs and ahs" from my guests.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">This is not a heavy New York style cheesecake and it's also a nice diversion from my Italian Ricotta cake. This is a refrigerator cake with no baking involved so there is no worry of turning out a cake with a split top. It is light and soft and full of pineapple which gives it a certain sweetness without being sickeningly sweet.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I like to garnish my dessert plates with a few stripes of raspberry puree from a squeeze bottle just to add a little color because the cake is pale<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Ingredients:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">For the crust:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1.25 cups graham cracker crumbs</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">3 tablespoons sugar</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">2 tablespoons melted butter</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">hot water as needed</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">For the filling:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1/2 pint heavy cream</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">milk as needed</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">2 envelopes unflavored gelatin</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1/2 cup sugar</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">2 egg whites</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">2 eight ounce packages of cream cheese, softened</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1 one pound can crushed pineapple</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1 regular box cook and serve vanilla pudding</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSOtpWaZ6HsPMCEjNRY3BQWjrAYPmERlcfmjO2ZuBZJSD8U890HaBRakGFxMQlXNG1ZgijB-ES05GySjndaY1-mtTjp3gQA06tmaFObbbXyVHqbqa9E39sCyAMYLeMPYYKdDdoN_GKdS9-/s1600/Cheesecake__Graham_Cracker_Crust.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSOtpWaZ6HsPMCEjNRY3BQWjrAYPmERlcfmjO2ZuBZJSD8U890HaBRakGFxMQlXNG1ZgijB-ES05GySjndaY1-mtTjp3gQA06tmaFObbbXyVHqbqa9E39sCyAMYLeMPYYKdDdoN_GKdS9-/s320/Cheesecake__Graham_Cracker_Crust.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Method:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Prepare the crust in a 10" spring form pan and allow to chill for at least one hour. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Crust:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Combine crumbs and sugar in a medium bowl to combine. Stir in melted butter until thoroughly blended. Test the mixture between 2 fingers to see if it holds shape. If not then add a couple drops of hot water. Press the mixture into the bottom of the pan with a spoon or juice glass. Chill for at least 1 hour before filling.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn104TvdwDyJtjr6JY3FQXrOuD0vq08tw4PynVtHApEaJhkf58bJ3CfHEMm2u8BISvdanfAo5-zrco3FGq4N_L9H_LPwKMUvHQZ_mdcCAhIb-H56OFfBRSfpbYSGikJ25m-J0US6K1wgHD/s1600/gelatine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn104TvdwDyJtjr6JY3FQXrOuD0vq08tw4PynVtHApEaJhkf58bJ3CfHEMm2u8BISvdanfAo5-zrco3FGq4N_L9H_LPwKMUvHQZ_mdcCAhIb-H56OFfBRSfpbYSGikJ25m-J0US6K1wgHD/s320/gelatine.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Filling</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Strain the pineapple over a bowl and reserve the liquid. Add enough milk to the pineapple liquid to make 2 cups. Transfer the milk/pineapple liquid to a small pan and sprinkle with gelatin powder. Stir in pudding mix and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly until thickened and begins to boil.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Remove pudding mixture from heat. Add cream cheese and beat with hand mixer until smooth. Stir in drained pineapple and mix well by hand. Allow mixture to cool to room temperature.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">In a separate bowl beat egg whites until stiff while gradually adding 1/4 cup sugar.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">In yet another bowl whip the cream with 1/4 cup sugar until soft peaks form.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Fold the egg whites into the cooled pudding mixture and then incorporate the whipped cream. Do not over mix! </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Pour the mixture into the prepared, crumb lined pan. Refrigerate for at least 8 hours. Unmold* before serving and sprinkle with a tablespoon of graham cracker crumbs.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbTUc7IHcwytN1l44A0x87M6MAWgowLuhZK8IHt1vJZcHfOd3QgHYsbb5JGWkcMVHbUEG-t9cpflsxEw8v_Vg-txnha6aP5TsCq-eri5lwPYIakxnoj8AW5fU4DpHh6i-PtSpntnmWx3QZ/s1600/spring+form+cake+pan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbTUc7IHcwytN1l44A0x87M6MAWgowLuhZK8IHt1vJZcHfOd3QgHYsbb5JGWkcMVHbUEG-t9cpflsxEw8v_Vg-txnha6aP5TsCq-eri5lwPYIakxnoj8AW5fU4DpHh6i-PtSpntnmWx3QZ/s1600/spring+form+cake+pan.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">*to unmold: run a table knife around the edge of cake. Place the cake on a bowl and release the spring latch. Loosen the outer ring from the cake and slide it down, freeing the cake. Do not remove the cake from the bottom pan circle! Move the cake, with the bottom intact, to a serving plate.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div>Christopher E. Lannihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05233795487665438632noreply@blogger.com0