Drastic Measures

I've decided I am going to cut down on my salt intake for the next few days to see if that helps reduce the swelling in my knee. Compared to the average American, I don't eat that much salt. I don't binge at McDonald's or other fast food places, and we avoid processed foods at home. I drink tea every day, green tea at least twice a week, which should hopefully reduce inflammation. I don't know if green tea will help my knee, but I don't think it can hurt.

At the opposite end of the green tea spectrum are potato chips. I love potato chips, even though I know they have almost no nutritional value. I think I inherited this from my mom. She would drive to another suburb to buy Yoo-Hoo potato chips. They had grease pockets in hem. Today, I had a turkey sandwich on whole wheat toast for lunch, which is fine, but I need to have something crunchy with such a soft food. Cheese and crackers go together, as do hummus and carrots.

I was at the little coffee/grocery store around the corner from my house, Seven Roasters Market & Cafe, when I saw this on the shelf.

I asked the barista if she had tried them. She winced. "They are still crunchy and greasy, but most people want salt with their crunchy stuff." She let me have a sample chip. It was okay. She was right about the crunchiness and the grease part.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. I bought a bag.

Protein, Fiber, and the C-word

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This post contains what my father would call TMI -- too much information. I don't get into graphic detail, but this is about combating constipation. Feel free to skip this if you are queasy or don't like reading about bowels. You have been warned.

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One of my middle aged women friends (which describes 98% of my friends) brought me lunch today. I noticed a trend in what my friends have been bringing me for me for lunch or dinner over the past week and a half. Two of the dinners were crowd pleasers: cheesy lasagna that everyone in my family will eat. The lunches and one of the dinners have fallen into another category: protein and fiber from Whole Foods, PCC or Metropolitan Market. Hearty soups, quiches and kale and quinoa salads have been loading my plate. Today, I laughed when I saw the soup and chickpea and kale salad. I told her that everyone was bringing me protein and fiber.

"Were you hoping for something more decadent?" she asked.

"Nope," I said.* "I think it is funny that everyone has the exact same thought!"

I need the protein to help heal from the surgery and rebuild/maintain my quadricep muscles, and I need the fiber for my bowels.

One of the major worries after surgery is fear of constipation from the anesthesia and narcotics. Being a middle aged woman does not help this situation at all, as balancing iron and fiber are two major challenges of life for women over forty. Plus, I am not moving so much and I am trying to eat a high protein diet. At my pre-op meeting, Claire, the Physician's Assistant, recommended Miralax, which I used for the first several days after the surgery. Sunday, I was feeling the need for some relief, and I decided to drink an herbal tea with senna, a well known and documents herbal laxative. Jack uses it for his patients on narcotics, and it is less potent than Miralax.

I brewed myself a cup of "Smooth Move" tea and let it steep. It is supposed to steep for ten minutes, but I kind of forgot about and drank it anyway. I was sipping it while I was reading. When I got up, I saw there was a little bit left, and decided to slurp back the dregs in the bottom of the mug.

The next morning was armageddon. In the Battle of the Bowels, the laxative won and took no prisoners. She was like Gen. William T. Sherman blazing through Atlanta, leaving nothing behind. This was shocking, as I've taken "Smooth Move" tea dozens of times with no ill effects. My bowels were empty of everything I have ever eaten, ever. I wasn't worried, and I felt fine. I was getting my energy back, which was good. I was a little thirsty, and I tried to drink more tea. For lunch, I made myself some nachos with my sandwich. I later had salted popcorn. I didn't realize how dehydrated I was from the laxative, and the salt from the chips and popcorn nearly did me in. It wasn't too much salt for a regular day, but yesterday was not a regular day. I was miserable from this crazy inbalance in my life. Perhaps I had been too vigilant in my quest to avoid constipation, and now I was paying the price.

My friend's daughter recently went through ACL surgery, and she was aware of the bowel issues surrounding narcotics. She told me about the Bristol Stool Chart, which I had never heard of before. [Warning: This link contains drawings of poop.] It was insightful, but my knowledge of the c-word comes more from the impact to my body. Am I having flashbacks to childbirth and wishing I had an epidural? It's the c-word.

* I sort of lied. Part of me wanted a cheeseburger, fries and chocolate cake.

Offline, Salt and my Madeleines

I've been offline for the past two weeks.  The kids had mid-winter break, and then week after was crazy.  During the break, the Boy's Lego Club made it to the First Lego League State Championship in Ellensburg, WA. We also skied for a few days.  All good, but we have been eating out.  A lot.  As a result, I've eaten so much salt in the past two weeks the Atlantic Ocean is jealous.

Speaking of salt... Last night my daughter was skiing and John was working, so the Boy and I ordered pizza for dinner.  We usually get Delfino's, which is a Chicago style place that serves a deep dish spinach.  This is only place west of the Kennedy Expressway that serves deep dish like this.  Anyhow, at the Boy's request, we did not order from Delfino's. We ordered from the national chain that serves this garlic dipping sauce on the side of their pizzas.  Ingredients: soybean oil, water, salt, and then a bunch of chemicals.  I was at the AWP Conference yesterday when a woman read a poem about desire and lack of control written by a prison inmate.  The way this guy feels about cocaine, I feel about this garlic sauce.  This morning, I went to the refrigerator in the basement and ate a piece of cheese bread covered in the sauce for breakfast.  I didn't use a plate.  I just ate it over the box.  Maybe this sauce won't ruin my life and cause me to lose my family or end up in prison, but it could clog my arteries and cause some serious hypertension.  I know this sacue is bad for me, but I could not resist.  I was a victim to its powers.  

And then there was Potbelly for lunch.  Potbelly used to be a one shop operation on Lincoln Ave in Lincoln Park in Chicago, very close to where I lived in my twenties.  The story goes that Potbelly started as a antique shop in the 1970s that started making lunch for its customers.  Soon, the sandwich business took over the antique sales.  Anyhow, John and I used to go to Potbelly on a regular basis for lunch.  On a beautiful summer afternoon, the line would sometimes snake around the place and out the door.  I would get a ham and swiss baked on a hogie roll with mayo, lettuce, tomato, onion, oil and Italian seasonings.  John and I would usually split a bag of chips and a milkshake.  Sometimes we'd just go for a milkshake.  

Now Potbelly is a chain, and there is one on Pike and 4th in downtown Seattle.  This ham sandwich is my madeleine, sending me back through a vortex of time to my twenties, living a yuppie's life in Chicago.  When I had time to wait a half an hour for a sandwich and not worry if one of my children would meltdown from lack of food.  When I could slam a milkshake and not feel like I had to compensate by detoxing on only lettuce, rice and tea for the next two days.  While I love this place, yesterday I left feeling like I was pregnant with a ham sandwich and oatmeal chocolate chip cookie.  Those days of freedom weekends and high metabolism are gone.  

That didn't stop me from returning today.  I wonder how many times Marcel Proust returned to his madeleines.  Did they always bring him back to his childhood, or at some point, did he just remember the last time he had the cookie?  Did he ever decide a cookie was just a cookie and leave it at that?

Jigsaw Puzzles

I love jigsaw puzzles.  I love the zoned out and relaxed feeling I get while doing a jigsaw puzzle.  After a certain point, some part of my non-conscious spacial brain takes over.  I love it when my hand reaches for a piece and places it in the right slot before I am aware of what I am doing.  I love the intimacy gained with an artwork after studying each of angles and the hues.  It is very different from taking an art history course, where you learn about the time period and the symbolism.  With a jigsaw puzzle, I study the minor details, the shape of a leaf, or reflections on water.

I was downtown at the Washington State Convention Center and saw this caught my eye.  My first thought was "This would make an awesome jigsaw puzzle."  I love the colors and the little faces.  I would want to get to know each of these creatures, understand their shapes and colors.

The Spirits Within by Alfredo Arreguin, 2002

You might not be able to tell from the photo, but this painting is huge.  It takes up most of the wall on the opposite side of an elevator bank.  Here are a few close ups:

I could spend hours looking at each of the little creatures Arreguin created here.  The best thing about a jigsaw puzzle is that you do get to spend hours studying what ever image you are trying to re-create.  I am guessing it took the artist months to create this.  Why shouldn't I spend a decent amount of time looking at very corner, especially for something so richly detailed?

My friend Grace introduced me last year to Card Kingdom, a puzzle and game shop with a cafe, in Ballard.  They have a massive selection of jigsaw puzzles, including the Liberty Puzzles, which are made out of wood.  When you open the box, you can smell the burnt wood from where the laser cut the pieces.

Here are some of the amazing shapes inside the box.