It felt kinda like this!!

It’s not like I wasn’t expecting the call, but once it came in, everything began to feel like it was happening too fast and it took a moment to get my bearings.  I’ve been tolerating the pain in my body and the frustration with medical professionals for so long, it hardly seems real that I now have an actual date for surgery to remove the hostile uterus in my body.  I answered the phone while driving to work because when I saw that the caller ID said “Kaiser,” I knew it wasn’t a call I wanted to miss.  The nurse said they had an open date of June 21st and I was like “ok, I’ll take it.”  Hanging up the phone, I felt like a heavy boulder had settled in the pit of my stomach, I was nauseous and my mind was spinning with all that this date meant and with everything that now had to be done before this date.

Its taken a couple days, but I’m relieved and settled.  I’m ready to get on with life.  I’ve had some encouraging phone calls from dear friends.  More offers of support and lots of time to think, process, and accept that this is REALLY happening.  I’ve also spent the last couple of days at Kaiser doing some pre-op lab work.  It seems that the needle pokes might never end.  I’m nervous and excited.  Putting together a list of things to get done before June 21st, both personally and professionally.  I’ve made my arrangements for sick leave from work and have informed the most important/necessary people in my life about the timing and details.  The list of things to do is growing…at some point I’ll just have to say “enough is enough.” Its not like I don’t have time after the surgery.  But isn’t it funny how suddenly everything becomes so important to accomplish, when some of this has been on the “to do” list for months.  I think it’s probably linked to the whole mortality complex…not that I have concerns about that, but there’s some instinct I think, much like how “nesting” works with pregnant women, that creates this need to get it done now.

Davinci Surgical Robot – my new best friend.  Wish those were my doctors.  It looks so futuristic and reminds me of some of my favorite scifi shows.

The thing I feel the best about in my preparations for going under the robotic knife, is my plan for a quick recovery.  Part of this is about the preparation, right (mind and body).  I’m a pretty active person, but I’ve been increasing my activity lately as well.  I participated in the Color Run last weekend (oh so much fun) and am continuing to increase my walking time each day.  I plan to be up on my feet, moving as soon as the Dr says its ok.  I’ve set a goal to be able to participate in the AIDS Walk SF, 10K on July 21st!  I’m joining the FFE Community Team to help raise $2013.  I’ve set a personal goal of $300.

If you’d like to donate as a way of encouraging my quick recovery and supporting a great cause, please visit my personal fund raising page or for amounts less than $25, you can donate through Paypal.

So, I think I got this.  I’m focusing on the after and not the during.  I feel like I’ve moved past shaking my fist at the sky in anger and frustration. 

I’m not excited about the surgery itself.  I’m excited about the possibilities after. I’m not fooling myself in to believing it will all be busy, but focusing on it all just being better.  There’s still a long way to go between today and that 10K walk.  I’m riding the wave of hopefulness.  Of course, you can check back here for updates on how the process, procedure and recovery unfolds.  I really appreciate all the positive feedback and kind words I’ve received from friends and blog readers about sharing this journey.  I’m hoping you continue to find something of value in my sharing as it all moves forward.  I wait now with a deadline on this anticipation…with a great deal of hope.

]]> http://www.sustenanceaside.com/2013/05/24/its-on-like-donkey-kong/feed/ 0 http://www.sustenanceaside.com/2013/05/15/medical-mayhem-and-the-hostile-uterus-not-a-bedtime-story/ http://www.sustenanceaside.com/2013/05/15/medical-mayhem-and-the-hostile-uterus-not-a-bedtime-story/#comments Wed, 15 May 2013 22:06:15 +0000 admin http://www.sustenanceaside.com/?p=476 Continue reading →]]> I read this quote recently that reinforced what I’ve long believed about our bodies not being our enemies. 

As often happens, it came across my path at a time when I desperately needed it.  Just last week I sent this text to a very dear friend “My body has betrayed me!” And it will be no secret to my FB friends and family that I have spent nearly as much time at Kaiser Permanente over the last few months than I have anywhere else. I’ve put off writing about what’s been going on in part because I’m still fighting for some internal peace and also because I’m not sure how much or little to share. And I’m the first to admit I have a tendency to over share. I also am hesitant to sound like I’m whining or looking for sympathy. Then a friend asked if I thought writing about it could help someone else (besides providing a way for me to further process). And I acknowledged that perhaps it had the potential and so here I am, writing.

To make a very long story short, I have a hostile uterus.

From the pages of my art journal.

After several years of heightened issues, I’m well versed in all sorts of medical terminology, but to boil it down, my uterus creates chronic swollen villi (clusters of grape sized “tumors”, not fibroids) which hang out and wreak all kinds of havoc internally.  Over the past 3+ years, doctors have treated this non-cancerous condition with a combination of surgical (d&c) and chemical removal of uterine lining. As well as a combination of high dose hormone injections/pills and pain meds.  The biggest issue for me is that it causes persistent painful cramping and unpredictable, prolonged heavy bleeding. The past year has been perhaps the worst, as symptoms have increased and the nonsurgical treatments simply aren’t working any more.  In November, I allowed a new Dr. (whom I really like and trust) to convince me that an IUD would help alleviate many of the symptoms.  I was willing to try almost anything at that point.  By early February I was insisting on a permanent resolution.  Though not quite at the point where I was willing to part with an internal organ, I sought from my doctor a more viable option.

As we all know, I’m fat.  To the majority in the medical profession that equals high risk and/or causation.  I’ve spent several years piecing together a medical team that does not treat me based on my weight.  My primary care physician is an “obesity” specialist who has never once mentioned to me weight loss surgery, diets, or any other topic related to weight in regards to my health.  In fact, this issue being the exception, I am a healthy fat person (most of us actually are).  My gynecologist matter o’ factly addressed my weight only as a potential risk factor for surgical options, primarily anesthesia.  This I knew and was not bothered by.  She suggested a uterine ablation, an outpatient procedure where they burn back the lining to the base of the uterus; sounds painful, apparently not so much.  This raised the question of ongoing birth control as an IUD would no longer be an option with a thinned uterus and I’ve pretty much ran the bases of hormones and their usefulness.  She suggested a nonsurgical sterilization process (since my hostile uterus makes full-term pregnancy a nonviable option anyway).  I said ok and was referred to one of the two doctors who perform this procedure at the clinic.  The FIRST thing this doctor said to me was, “have you considered weight loss surgery?”  The SECOND thing, “ALL your problems would go away if you would just lose all that weight.”  Note the use of “that” as if it weren’t even in the room with us, but some abstract evil thing hovering outside the door.  I was so unprepared for THIS conversation, I was dumbfounded, paralyzed. I can’t even imagine what story the expression on my face was telling. I was prepared to discuss sterilization procedures. I had questions to ask. I had things to confirm. But none of that mattered because A) she was going to refuse to do the procedure because of my weight and 2) I would not have let that woman touch my beautiful fat body with a ten foot surgical instrument.

I left that doctor appointment in shock and complete hopelessness.  What I knew is that I couldn’t sanely tolerate what was going on inside my body much longer and every plan that had been put in motion to resolve the issue had just been bulldozed by this weight bigot in a doctor frock. I got to my car and cried.  Not just for me, but for all the stories I’d read and been told about of other wonderfully rad fatties who had received similar treatment from medical professionals. I never had; I thought I had been able to imagine how it might feel. I couldn’t. It was much much worse, dehumanizing, degrading, shaming…. When I spoke with my gynecologist two days later, she was livid.  Even the medical notes had read like a bad fat shaming story.  She was ready to go to the mats for me, to find a doctor who would perform the procedure. But I was done. That had been my breaking point.

A card given to me by my boss at the university.

I told her it was time to just take it out.  I wanted her to find the least invasive means to have my hostile uterus removed. I was asserting ownership of my body and was ready to evict!  She took a deep breath and said ok.  Next thing I know, I was scheduled to meet with the Chief of the women’s health department.  He conducts robotic assisted laparoscopic surgical procedures on high risk patients.  And she assured me that if anyone could make this happen it would be him.  I went to that appointment prepared to defend my weight and its non-connection to what was going on in my body.  But I didn’t have to.  He discussed the procedure with me, answered my questions, and asked a few of his own then told me that it was time for a definitive response to the issue.  He inferred that it was likely only a matter of time before the cells in the uterus would become cancerous so it was best to act now.  He said it was not without risk and that although the intention would be to do the procedure laparoscopically, there is a very real chance that they may still have to do an open cavity procedure once they have me on the table.  I am resolved.  And so in late June or early July, I will be having a Robotically Assisted Laparoscopic Hysterectomy with Bilateral Salpingectomy, Possible Bilateral Oophorectomy, Possible Laparotomy, Cystoscopy.  In layman terms, a laparoscopic hysterectomy, leaving my ovaries intact, with the possibility that they may need to cut me open.  The doctor mentioned above, should take note: THIS, THIS is going to make ALL my problems go away!! (ok, not all of them.)

Here are the things I wish I would have done differently during this journey of medical mayhem (and perhaps where others might learn):

• I would have had more compassion for my body and accepted early on that this was my body’s way of trying to work its way back to wellness. Instead of feeling betrayed by the very body I claim to love and respect every day.
• I would have liked to come to an earlier realization that this one organ, which is a part of me, does not truly define me as female.  It would have made it much easier to insist earlier on that they remove it.  I would have spent far less time in pain, discomfort, and worry.
• I would have taken someone else with me to doctor appointments.  Either to just help “hold on” to all the relevant information, to act as a sounding board for the many thoughts and emotions swirling around in my head and/or to act as an advocate when I was struck dumb with disbelief.  And yes, I have a whole host of friends who would have willingly agreed to sit by my side during the many hours of appointments.
• I would not have agreed to the IUD.  In the midst of all this other stuff, the IUD has “gone missing” (insert Scott’s joke about the UN looking for WMDs here). In women who have not had children, the IUD has a tendency to migrate (good to know).  Mine has…and the hunt is on, with ultrasounds, x-rays, CT scans, etc.
• I wish I would have said to the weight biased doctor something along the lines of “oh really, ALL my problems? Will my student loan payments go away? Will my dog’s chronic diarrhea suddenly disappear? And, so on…” It wouldn’t have helped, but it might have made me feel more emotionally satisfied.
• I wish I would have been more open to asking for the support of my friends, being more honest about the amount of pain I have been in and confided more openly about it all.  I fancy myself to be so independent that sometimes I don’t let others in in ways that would be helpful.  And I have the most awesome friends and support network, so why would I shut them out on any level?

This journey is not over. The procedure is not on the doctor’s schedule yet. There were some reasonable hoops he asked me to jump through and I’ve done so. Now just patiently awaiting his return to the office (he’s been out for a week) and word that it will be scheduled. I’m eager, but scared. I think that’s healthy. There will be recovery time I’m not looking forward to. A need to rely on the kindness and good hearts of my friends to assist during this time, which is hard for my independent spirit to accept.  And the need to allow time and space for emotional healing as well.  Sounds like a fun summer though, right?

It’s not my idea of a good time, but I’m so looking forward to having the medical mayhem and hostile uterus out of my life.

It’s what they don’t tell you

They tell you to love yourself
Live in the body you have now
Be bold and confident
Wear stripes and sequins
And tiaras to the grocery store
Don’t listen to the ne sayers
The weight loss goalies
Surgeons with their scalpels
Stand up against the Hatred
Discrimination
Bullying
Laughter
Take chances
Do something new
Reach out to others
Share your new knowledge and power with others
Because what they don’t tell you
Is that no matter what you do…
You’ll always be lonely
You’ll always wonder if it’s the size of your stomach that turned them off or the size of their ego
You’ll never know if they truly want you or are you a fetish
You’ll eat dinner at home in front of the tv because they’re too ashamed to take you out
They’ll chose someone smaller, even if they love you
What they don’t tell you
Is that the clerk at Macy’s will still treat you as if you don’t belong there even when you’ve only come
in for expensive moisturizer
The children in your building will still point and stare
Your family and friends won’t understand why you aren’t interested in talking about their latest diet or exercise routine at the next holiday gathering
Your neighbor will still say you look like you’ve lost weight even when you haven’t
Why don’t they tell you???
Because what they also don’t tell you is that all of that won’t matter in the long run what they don’t tell you is that when you love your self, others will follow
just not today
and probably not tomorrow

surprised?  probably not.

we’re all human.

here’s my second confession…i’m a fat activist/body liberationist with body issues!  no, really!  much to my own chagrin, i’m frequently unable to leap over societal standards without a single care.  there are days i wake up and wish there were things about my body that were different.  i’ve learned to live, really live, in this body, not just survive.  i do appreciate it and can see the beauty in its curves and dips.  but damn…if my boobs were just that much smaller or my arms or my…you know.

i’ve been helping a friend with a project for the last couple months that’s involved the search for pictures of women my size and larger that show the beauty of the human body but aren’t gratuitously pornographic.  and sadly, they are few and far between.  there are lots and lots of pictures of women in what seems to be the “acceptable” range of plus size or “thick” with alluring poses and perfect lighting.  they are “pinned” all over pinterest(c) with barely a nod at their defiance of “normalcy.”  don’t get me wrong, this makes me happy.  it means that the efforts of so many women and men to live in and love their bodies, not bending to societal standards and being vocal about how those standards are unacceptable is beginning to work. and its taken a really long time to see even just this much progress.  but i want more. i need more. and i kinda need it now.

i need to see women my size without their tits hanging out and their legs spread.  i need to see them with subtle lighting, in outdoor and indoor spaces, enjoying life. not spread eagle on a couch with a cupcake in their mouth. i need to know that the beauty of my body and other bodies like mine are not just being fetishized.

you might ask, why?

why do I need to see this and know this if i have learned to appreciate and also love (for the most part) the body i live in?  because it helps others i love and care about see their bodies as beautiful too. because i’ve recently seen first hand how it empowers others to see their own body type in pictures that feel sexy and sensual, without being pornographic. because it helps keep me centered and focused on my activism. because it helps me believe that the person in my life/bed isn’t there just because of my body.  because it sustains my soul and fuels my passion for a better, more accepting life for all of us.

just because, you know.  and why the fuck not? we are all beautiful. every single one of us, in our similarities and in our differences.  and we all deserve to see positive images of others who look like us, because it makes us feel like we belong. it comforts us. strengthens us. and emboldens us to live a more complete fulfilling life.

so, i’m calling you to action. i and so many others need you to do this. get out there…take pictures of yourself. share them. be bold. be beautiful. be strong.

I put out a call on FB, hoping someone might volunteer to make me such a delicious dinner that evening.  And to my surprise, there were no takers.  Their loss, really.  I could have just driven straight to the Red Lobster in Milpitas, but I wasn’t feeling it.  Then I remembered the recipe sitting in my email in box for knock-off cheddar bay biscuits, just like you get at the famed rouge crustacean location.  So I pulled into the nearest grocery store and picked up the ingredients for a delicious dinner.

I’m not gonna pretend that cracking the crab wasn’t time-consuming and messy.  Nor was it overly pleasant to have the smoke alarm in my apartment go off every time I opened the oven door to check on the biscuits.  But I’ve said it before.  Even if you are cooking for one, you (and I) am worth the work it takes to make a delicious meal that fulfills even our oddest cravings.

Though the next time I get the urge to cook like this, I’ll invite over some friends to bring the wine and dessert.

Recipes:  The white wine sauce is simple, the pasta “fresh,” and you seriously couldn’t tell the difference between these biscuits and those other guys’ variety.

Seafood in White Wine Sauce w/Cheddar Bay Biscuit. Note the ever-present pink glitter on the table.

White Wine Sauce

1 clove of garlic (more if desired)
1/4 cup white wine
4 tablespoons butter
Pinch of salt (to taste)
1/2 teaspoon freshly chopped parsley

In a skillet, boil down chopped garlic in wine. Continue cooking over low heat stirring occasionally 15 minutes.

Allow to cool. Stir in parsley.

Whisk in some room temperature butter, stirring over low heat. Add salt and more wine as needed.

Simmer five minutes.

Add fresh seafood of choice at the very end to heat through.  Toss with fresh boiled pasta of choice.

“Cheddar Bay” Biscuits

2 c Bisquick
2/3 c milk
2/3 c shredded cheddar cheese (I used sharp)
6 tbsp butter
1/2 tsp garlic powder
1/4 tsp Old Bay Seasoning
Salt
1/4 c sour cream
1/4 c parmesan cheese

Preheat oven to 450.

Mix: milk, parmesan, sour cream, cheddar, bay seasoning, Bisquick, garlic powder.

Portion onto cookie sheet

Cook for 8 minutes

Melt butter – brush butter on each biscuit and sprinkle a little salt.  Place biscuits back into over to bake for 2 more minutes.

Enjoy

I loved coming home to this every day and it actually helped to lift my holiday spirits a bit.  So, when the holidays were over I wondered what I might put in its place.  The weather was cold and dank and I needed something to perk up that entry way.  So I headed to the tulle isle in the craft store and found a super sparkly silver tulle and put it together with black and white tulle to make a new year’s wreath.  Using the same technique, I alternated the colors.  When it was finished, I kinda thought it looked like a sparkly funeral wreath, so I found a disco ball ornament, hung it in the center and posted that sparkling wreath up on the door.  Warning, if you use the glittered tulle, you’ll be carrying it around on you, your furniture, your pets, and everything else for at least a month or more.

But don’t worry about that, because for February you can just add more sparkle to your home by using fuscia glitter tulle and pink and white tulle to create a sparkly kisses and hugs door hanging.

The inspiration for this one came from here.  I loved the X and O but couldn’t get excited about the fake berry wreaths.  So I decided to try it in tulle.  I had to cut the X form out of a flat square of styrofoam.  Other than that, it’s the same process as the other two wreaths of tying the tulle around until it’s as full as you want it.  Since I only had 10 yards of the dark fuscia glitter tulle, I placed that evenly first and then filled in the rest with alternating groupings of white and pink as seen below.  I did the same thing with the X.  Then I tied them together using the fun polk-a-dot ribbon.

I love how each of these projects turned out.  I might be done with tulle for awhile…and perhaps not, green tulle with spring flowers would be so cute, right???  I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

Oh and I’ve basically just learned to live with everything in my home having just a little sparkle from the errant glitter that won’t go up in the vacuum no matter how many times I try.

“She who leaves a trail of glitter is never forgotten.”

The prelude to 2012 started much in the same way it will end, on the red carpet at a Plush Productions NYE Party. As my friend and I approached the camera filming party-goers sharing their new year’s resolutions, I turned to my friend and said, “we do not resolute, WE REVOLOOSH!” And we did. Those who knew me prior to 2012, may find this amusing, but I feel as if 2012 brought me out of my shell.  I know, right??  Yes, believe it or not, I was still holding back in many ways. As for all of us, becoming the person I want to be is a journey. And this journey for many years has been about becoming my most authentic self, without pretense.

It’s been an amazing—if not complicated—journey, this year especially.

A large part of my 2012 revolution was to open myself up, freely—without previous fears and judgments, to new opportunities and experiences both personally and professionally. And to more thoroughly engage in the activism and social justice movements I feel so passionate about. When I gave myself over to all the possibilities that lay before me, the world seemed like this wonderful new thing to me.  It changed me.

Vermont, Boston, Oregon, Puerto Rico

I traveled, without fear: Puerto Rico, Oregon, Vermont, Boston.

I attended conferences and activism events that fed both my mind and soul: Fatty Affair, IDEC, NAAFA Convention, NOLOSE: the revolution just got bigger, National Women’s Studies Association Conference.

eShakti (dress)/Size Queen shrug, Curvy Girl Lingerie, Size Queen (liquid blue sex kitten dress), SWAK top

I bought new clothes and wore outfits I wouldn’t have a year ago: dresses and more dresses from eShakti, Size Queen, and SWAK and silky sexy things from Curvy Girl Lingerie.

Friends: Courtney, Fabulanza, Patti, Lonnie, Shawn, Jenn

I strengthened existing friendships, made new friends and reconnected with friends I thought it unlikely I ever would.

I attended concerts, events, and parties.

Oh, the parties, the dancing, and the men…and women.  I danced; teased; flirted; dated; and yes even fucked a few of them (keeping it real people).

And I fell in love…with Hip Hop/Rap and Dancing.

Friends: Kate and Drea, Shar, Marilyn and Orion, Christine, Dana, Chris

There was soooo much Dancing. From weekend Belly Dancing classes with Raks Africa, to Big Moves Bay Area Free Day of Dance Hip Hop class and more.  The occasional Friday night in Oakland at Full Figure Fridays! And every, yes EVERY Saturday night at Thick and Sexy Saturdays, unless I was traveling or sick, I was there!!

Music, Parties, and Dancing

And the Hip Hop? Yes, seriously—white chic, driving down El Camino with her Lt. Blue Honda Fit loud and bumpin’ (oh the stop light stares). A friend recently asked me why and my answer made him laugh. I can’t explain it in a way that anyone will truly understand. So I won’t try. Just take a few minutes to listen to a couple of my favorites, Big E “Stay Dry” and “Leave this Club” …perhaps you’ll understand.

As revolutions go, mine has not been without casualties. A very dear friendship came to an abrupt, painful and really unexplainable end. I frequently neglected my writing, even when inspiration hit, I’d opt for social interaction over shutting down and spending time with my words. In the past month this has changed. Expect a book release (and party) in 2013. I made some unintentional, yet glaring missteps in the work environment that challenged me to the core and led me to make a public apology and begin a process of exploring the impact of my personal privilege on others. And with my barriers down, I’ve given people access to my life who don’t deserve it, allowed them to mistreat me, and have lost some of my safe space. But over the last few weeks, I’ve noticed a shift. Those people I gave access to, have fallen silent.  At first, a bit jarring I can see that this is part of the revolution, the cycle of change. The upshot of these casualties, in hindsight, is that they’ve contributed in so many ways to bringing me to a more authentic place within myself.

The many faces of 2012.

And so I prepare to begin 2013 with a clearer vision of who I am, what I’m passionate about, what I want, and how all of that combined impacts others in the world around me.  I have no idea what the next year holds in store for me, but I know that I am more open to it, more patient for it and more willing to do what it asks of me than I have ever been before.  I’m all in!  Bring it on!

Wishing You and Yours a Happy and Joyous New Year!

One of the activities we did was to create a vision board.  I think that this project is often a go to for busy work in workshops, but I personally really enjoyed it.  I’ve done vision boards, vision journals, vision lists, etc before and so I was no stranger to the process.  I was slightly disappointed by the variety of magazines we were given to create from.  In an environment that should have been celebrating inclusivity, the magazines were US/People, Architecture Digest, 7×7 SF….basically print mags that cover some of the most elite and exclusive lifestyles in existence.  But I found a way to move beyond that.  Instead of pictures, I pulled out words.  I found my self giggling a lot.  I saw this advertisement with a small chihuahua and the tag line “the whole enchihuahua” and it tickled my fancy.  I still have no idea what the ad was for, but the tag line had me laughing out loud every time I looked at it.  (Have I mentioned how obsessed I am about my own small little chi?)

Anyway, here is the vision board I created:

Workshop Vision Board

It pretty much speaks for itself.  My mission is to love and live life out loud, give people more chances, live creatively, without reservations and escape the ordinary.  Strive to be my personal best, not living up to someone else’ expectations.  I also will fill my life with fashion, food, drink, style, love and sex.  Lots and lots of sex.  (side note: when we shared our vision boards, I said “and sex, who doesn’t enjoy sex?”…you could hear vaginas closing up around the world.  Why can’t we talk about sex, especially in a room full of women.  It’s the one place we should feel the most comfortable talking about it, or at the very least saying the word.  What’s the deal women?  Love yourself enough to be open and honest about sex, would ya!!!)  Anyways, perhaps a subject for a future blog.

I think vision boards/projects of any variety can be very useful.  They can remind us what we value and the direction we want our lives to be moving in.  I do think that the process of creating such a board or list can help us find where we may have gotten derailed and also help us find a way to refocus on what’s important.  It’s also why it can always be useful to attend a workshop geared towards getting your groove back, even if, like me you feel like life is totally groovy!!!

Well, I wallowed in the disappointment of possibly living without Red Curry Coconut Chicken Soup for six months when I decided to see how difficult it would be to make it.  And as it turns out, not very difficult at all.  Of course, as is my style I adapted the recipe to fit my tastes and cooking style.  You can find the original recipe here. My adaptation follows:

coconut milk, red curry, and chicken

Thai Red Curry Coconut Soup

Instructions

1. Scoop the thick coconut cream from the top of one of the cans of coconut milk into a large stockpot set over medium-high heat. Melt the cream, add the curry paste and stir for a few minutes until they begin to sizzle.
2. Add the chicken and saute until cooked through, about 10 minutes.
3. Add the remaining coconut milk from the 2 cans, the chicken broth, lemon grass, fish sauce, lime juice, ginger and brown sugar. Simmer for 20-30 minutes.
4. Stir in peas (optional). Simmer for 5 minutes.
   

   Red Curry Coconut Chicken Soup

I really enjoy this soup served over rice (you could cook rice in it actually) or for a super comforting meal, mashed potatoes.  Personally, I would spice up this recipe just a bit more after having tried it now.  Next time I’ll add more red curry paste for more of a kick.  It’s also a little thin.  Cooking rice in the soup would help to thicken it up, otherwise I’ll likely add a bit of cornstarch to thicken it a bit more next time.  Also, it’s a great base for just about any kind of vegetable addition.  I feel like this was a really good first try at making my favorite comfort food. It was certainly satisfying.  I’ll definitely continue to tweak the recipe as I make it again in the future.

Also an awesome lesson at not settling for what the world tells us is available.  When I know there is something that I want I don’t need to find it elsewhere, I’m perfectly capable of creating it on my own.

Thai Red Curry Coconut Chicken Soup

 

“Treat Dads and Grads!, Celebrate with Dad, Travel Cheaper with Dad, Top Picks for Dads and Grads, Save on Dad’s Day Breakfast, Kindle Fire for Father’s Day, Top 10 Gifts for Dads, 75 Spectacular Summer Finds for Fathers.”

Don’t even get me started on the Facebook Ads, which I have repeatedly told FB are offensive to me and yet they keep popping up. And ok, “offensive” may be a bit stronger language than how I really feel.  Because what I’m really experiencing is an absence and a bit of pain from remembering.

At first, after my father’s death in 1999, June was one of the hardest months for me.  Not only is it the month where around every corner one is reminded that dad needs this thing or that thing, June was also his birthday month.  And what I found as a child to be completely unfair because of the double gifting he would receive, as an adult too soon without her father, I found it heart wrenching.  For a few years, instead of experiencing the joys of June, I felt tortured by his absence.  And then I started writing and remembering and each passing year became easier.  Until this one.

I think there are a number of reasons for this: I turned 40 this year; had my own brief health scare which led to genetic testing for heart disease precursors (of which I have none); and to be honest, I’d stopped remembering.

And now that I am remembering again, I’m amused by the fact that my father would have hated every last one of the gifts suggested in these emails.  Some of them he may have smiled appreciatively about; others, he would have been “what the hell am I supposed to do with this?”  Because these suggestions are based on some algorithm that tracks my shopping preferences and while in many ways I am definitely my father’s daughter, there are so many ways in which I am not.  I’d label myself the “black sheep” of the family, but I prefer the “wild sheep,” the one who keeps breaking out of even the tiniest hole in the fence for just the briefest chance to run free.  And while I truly believe my father admired that quality in me, I dare say he was puzzled by it just as equally.  And yet, in his own way he encouraged it — silently, his own quiet rebellion perhaps.

Dad had a big heart, a mischievous smile (of which I gladly claim inheritance), and an uproarious laugh.  I remember him being mostly quiet, except in a room full of family around the card table.  I like to think of him as contemplative: a thoughtful, deep thinker (though probably mostly about the turn of a crop or the price on a head of cattle).   Like all humans, he wasn’t perfect.  But he liked simple things:  like a solid down vest to keep him warm in the Nebraska blizzards (yes, a vest – sans sleeves); a can of Skoal in his shirt pocket (and a case in the freezer); a warm summer day out in the pasture checking the herd; John Wayne movies; trucker music; and steak so rare you wouldn’t have thought it even touched the heat. He disliked (among many things), breakfast for dinner — one of my all time favorite things.

And he, along with my mother, raised a precocious, free-thinking, wildly independent daughter in one the most uptight, conservative, right-minded areas of our country.  How much of that was happenstance, can never be known?  But when I remember the stories my father would tell of “riding the rails” and other grand adventures that turned out to be tall tales, I like to think that given the chance, in a different time and place, he would have grabbed on to the opportunities life has offered me, held on with both hands and rode them hard into the sunset.

Thanks Dad (and Mom) for instilling that same free-spirit in me!

Happy Father’s Day!