Heart of an Artichoke, Brain of a Scarecrow

"Heart of an Artichoke And Other Kitchen Journeys" by David Tanis is the first book I picked up seriously since 'the episode' on September 30th.  Yes it was a Christmas gift--albeit an amazing one.  And yes, I love, nay, seriously love artichokes.  But I have about 30 books that need to be read, especially Karen Armstrong's "Buddha", something I've been really wanting to read since my need (yes, need) for Yoga has grown. So, it's a bit of a mystery to figure out.

Now, having thought about it for a minute or two, I think, actually that it was the word 'journey' that made me pick it up first--because I feel I've been on a bit of my own journey these last few months.  As you all know from past posts, my head is giving me fits and starts in the form of a constant headache...the result has been interesting and surprisingly full of silver linings.  However, one of the big problems has been my inability to read--lack of concentration, double-vision, etc...keeps me from really digging in and when I read, I tend to read for hours.  And, now that I'm back at work, I'd been using my reading time up on things I need to read there.

So, it was with more than a little hesitation, that I got into bed the other night with this book.  I figure I'd thumb through it, drool over the recipes and pictures, get frustrated and then put it down. But nope...there was some seriously good writing to pour over here...and writing I could identify with--it seems he and I share a 'lingua franca' if you will...although unfortunately not a love for Chocolate Chip Cookies...anyway, his recipe for getting the reader engaged in the food is with memories of tastes and smells, nostalgia via other peoples stories, and a simple view of what a meal can be--whether that meal is a plate of potato salad and a beer (yes!) or a deconstructed turkey.

More than all of this, though, this book served as a reminder to me that Rome, or David Tanis as it were, wasn't built in a day, and that I needed to apply that same reminder to me and my own current journey, a deconstructed turkey if there ever was one.

So, instead of seeing the restricted diet, the need for exercise, the meds, the yoga, the knitting, the naps, the embroidery and the slower brain as a phase to get through and forget, why not see it all as seasoning for the finished dish that will eventually be Rene? Hopefully not the finishing touches, but definitely things that will stick with me, and be a part of me as I make them my own, for a long time to come.

I know It's All Relative: I Cheer for the Chilean Miners, but Me? I'm Angry and Icky and Bookless!

Twelve days ago I got hit with my first migraine ever. Knocked me on my ass...hard. I drove myself to the hospital. Not the smartest move ever.  I don't remember much but some honking, so am assuming I drove really slow. Cause that's how I was feeling...sloooowwwwwww, distorted, like a off-kilter sound-wave.

I got to one hospital and got transfered to another and then spent five days on Dilauded (sp?) ...lots of it. Dreamy. I gotta say that for the first time I understand the whole addiction thing.

Got sent home cause I was "healed"...but unfortunately still have migraine. Saw some new doctors and they want me to wait for their new meds to take effect--up to two weeks. This makes me angry...I'm taking notes on how their meds are affecting me and I've got some suggestions, but no....I'm just the tottering, squinting, slow-talker they will see next Tuesday. 

There are a lot of sucky things about this...first is the fact that I don't know when this is going to end.  Everyone says it won't last much longer.  Everone else says they can't believe it's lasted this long.  So, I'm trying to stay on the edge of curious, but I don't do well when I can't see what's out in front of me. At all.

I guess it's not all bad.  My son did get some laughs telling the story about how Mommy projectile vomited all over herself and the passenger seat of the car when we were all stuck in rush-hour traffic on the way home from the doctor. He did not like giving up his shirt to me so I could wipe my face off, but that's the price you pay for funny.

Everyone, and I do mean everyone tells me to not worry, about anything. Is that possible?  Seriously?  How do I not worry about how the pressure is affecting my husband who is disabled and about how tired he looks, that my son has suddenly developed a lot of tummy aches, my daughter is suddenly obsessed about fairness in terms of good and bad people, about falling behind at work and putting pressure on an already understaffed department.  I am not the type of person who can lie still in a dark room not worrying about stuff even though her head would feel better if I smashed my hand in a car door.  Twice.  Hard.

Along with the pain in my head, my body feels gross.  I'm eating less because chewing hurts.  I can't stand the taste of my elixir of life, Diet Pepsi anymore, so I'm drinking more water than is possibly good for you.  Yet my skin is blah, my nails are cracky, my hair is so-so.   I find myself getting weepy when shows like Criminal Minds and NCIS use emotional quotes.  So you can see I'm a disaster.

Personally I think it's because of two things...First, I got no 'purpose'...it's not like I'm taking time off to "be at home" or anything, so short of trying not to puke when I move, or playing my new favorite game, "guess which of the double-vision objects is real", there's not a lot of reason in my life right now. I do NOT do that well. 

The second thing is that I can't read right now---I have multiple books just waiting for me to read them..and not just books, magazine articles, web articles, etc.  They are calling to me...all of that knowledge, all of those ideas that are waiting for me to find them. All of those wonderful phrases, sentences...the tempo of a beautifully written paragraph.  Sigh.  All of those bits of information that I put aside until they are ready to be useful for a friend, a client, my family.  It's driving me batty!!!!  More importantly, I feel lost without them on some level.  I do get to listen to my daughter read to me from "Alex and the Ironic Gentleman" by Adrienne Kress.  A really fantastic book for girls of all ages.

So, three hours later, I finish this one tiny blog...more than twice what it usually takes.  Mainly because brain is slow and cranky and double vision typing sucks...and I'm still without...without an end in sight, without an answer as to what to do and dammit all, without a book to read. 

But the fantastic news is that tonight when I totter off to bed, I will quietly kiss my kids goodnight, both of each of them