Grown Up Salsa Chicken

This is a goofy variation of the original salsa chicken recipe I posted here. We'll see how it goes...

4-5 pieces of chicken breast
one sm jar salsa (medium heat)
one can petite diced tomatoes
1-2t tbl dried diced onions
1-2 cups chicken stock
1/3+c cream (I ran out)
cumin & chili powder to your preference
1-2 tsp tamari or soy sauce
2/3c Frontier Fiesta Black Bean Mix
Optional garnishes; shredded cheddar, chopped scallions, finely diced red onion, fresh chopped cilantro

Preheat oven to 400F
Put chicken in large glass or similar baking dish
Mix all remaining ingredients in a small bowl, allow to sit 5-10m
Pour over chicken, making sure to get plenty UNDER and ON TOP of chicken

Bake 40 minutes, occasionally spooning salsa mixture over chicken to keep moist. If it gets to dry, remove from oven. Add more chicken stock and mix well into sauce, spooning over chicken. Repeat as needed.
Turn oven down to 350 and bake 20 more minutes.

Serve as is with a side dish or serve over rice. Also good sliced and served with tortillas.

Deconstruction of a Huff.

Yes, its nearly one a.m. and here I am sitting on the couch in a huff. Not one of my most mature moves ever, but hey, at least I had a long nap today.

So what the heck happened? I'm going to try writing this out with specifics and then revising it to be more global, not about the minutae but about me.

I had a disagreement with someone and they ignored me rather than acknowledge what I was saying. Sigh.

So why did I get so upset? That's why I'm writing ... to try to figure out my end.

I know a few things really upset me.

~ We had an agreement they ignored it just hours later. This bothers me because I feel like they don't take commitments to me seriously.

I want to matter. I want to be taken seriously and see it in people's actions.

~ Its about a choice, a compromise. If they refuse to compromise to protect their physical comfort, I am caused pain and lose function.

Compromise is an action that shows my needs matter.

~ I feels like they just don't REMEMBER what triggers pain in me.

Remembering is an action that shows I matter.

~ They used silence to avoid showing me they were hearing me, they did not acknowledge my frustration.

Acknowledging that I am heard and understood shows I matter.

~They ignored attempts to discuss it and would not share their side.

Having a dialogue with me, even an angry one, until we reach a conclusion shows I matter.

~ I'm afraid we will end up estranged like we were before.

I am afraid of not being taken seriously. I am afraid of not mattering again.


I'm really hurt from experiencing a period where I didn't matter and not sure how to feel safe again.


Feeling like people take me seriously is something I have always struggled with.

Silver Lining.

This past year has been unspeakably hard for many reasons. A special person asked me, can you see a positive to your illness?

I thought about it. And answered No.

That was unusual for me ... growing up I could always find the silver lining in my illnesses.

Today I had an appointment with a rheumatologist. After having a medical student take a detailed history from me and doing a cursory 30 second exam, she spent 15 minutes mocking me, emphasizing the need for me to 'pursue psychiatric care' and finally going as far to say that I didn't really NEED the cane. According to this woman who did not test my balance or leg strength, I 'felt the need for something comforting to hold onto'. I was using it as a proverbial crutch. No pun intended.

I held my composure and dignity until I reached the hallway ... and then I sobbed for a very long time.

I became angry and I looked at myself. Then I had a really big margarita and took a nap. And then I looked at myself some more.

I am not weak. I am not bringing this on myself. I am a brave strong woman who parented her children alone for months, despite being more disabled than ever. I stood by my husband while he walked through the darkest valleys of his soul. I consciously chose to work on my self issues to better support myself, my children and my husband without enabling. I reached out for professional, spiritual and social support whenever I needed it.

We are a healthy strong family unit because I chose to keep us strong and because my husband accepted my decisions and support.

I'm no longer angry or defiant at you, Doctor.

Doctor, I am grateful to you for showing me the silver lining. I sincerely hope you gently find the wholeness you need to see your patients with more compassion. No one with joy and peace in their hearts could look at a woman who is clearly holding back tears and continue to hurt her. I hope you find what you are missing. Thanks for the perspective.

The hard part. And extra credit.

Assignment 1)
Make a list of the ways this physical condition is serving you.

(Gah. Can't I stall some more? Fuss with the spellchecker and formatting a bit?)

~ I enjoy being with my kids.
~ I am afraid of failing at "being a grownup" ... being ill gives me an excuse for not having to do certain things, for mistakes I make.
~ I'm used to things as they are, its comfortable ... I am afraid of failing if I am forced to try new things
~ I have a thirst to be different, to stand out in a crowd. I used to be that person because of my carriers. I don't know who I will be if I am healthy. Who will like me? What will be my buffer?
~ I have always had trouble concentrating on a job, succeeding at a job, finding my niche. I'm so tired and beaten down by years of feeling listless and mediocre in my jobs.
~ I have a childish craving (image: three year old sulking and stamping a foot) for playtime, me-time, indulgence ... I've tried to fill it by goofing off at work, shopping too much. When I'm sick I can goof off. But for some reason it doesn't fill the need. I don't feel better. I just feel empty.
~ When I'm sick I don't have to do deep self-work.
~ When I'm sick I have less home/family responsibilities.
~ When I'm sick I can insist we all stay home.
~ Maybe there ISN'T a niche for me - when I am sick I don't have to feel lost.
~ Maybe there is something inadequate, lacking, dependent in me - when I am sick I am protected from looking at that.
~ I feel like I am playing dressup as a grown up, like I don't really know what to do, how to do it. I'm afraid people notice if i'm not sick.

There may be more - it makes me sick and jittery to look at this. Part of me wonders if I am really SEEING all there is or just quickly glimpsing into that black pit and drawing a rough sketch of what I see because I am too weak to really climb down there and LOOK at it all.
~ When I am sick I have an excuse for being weak.

Now, for extra credit.
1b) WHY does revealing this disturb me so intensely?
~ I'm horribly afraid of not measuring up
~ I'm desperately, nauseatingly afraid of my friends and family thinking of me as "less", "lazy", "not trying hard enough", "immature", "unreliable", "needy", "selfcentered", "dependent"
~ I'm afraid healthy people will misunderstand this. I'm afraid people won't understand that these are normal, common feelings for someone in my kind of limbo.
~ I'm afraid they will think I am bringing this on myself, mind over matter, psychosomatically ... and that they won't understand that I desperately want to live to see my children grow up. I don't WANT to miss their lives. I don't WANT to have these tests come back with a scary prognosis.

If you have read this much, please know that you are looking into a little basement closet. We all have them ... most people just aren't brave enough to clean them out. I DO want to be healthy. I want to go to the zoo with my kids again. I want to chase them at the park and push them on the swings. I'm not a monster who wants to be ill because they gain from it.

But I am an honest person. And I admit that there is that small closet, full of bits of me that benefit from my being ill.

Self Discovery ... facing the ugly stuff.

A very special person has given me some homework. Something many disabled or chronically ill people would never admit is that there is a tiny part of them that doesn't want to or is afraid to be healthy.

I know that sounds disgusting ... like its implying people who are happy to get that golden goose back injury and "enjoy" disability payments. I'm not talking about those (mythical?) people. I'm talking about everyday folks who live with depression, bipolar disease, fibromyalgia, MS ... BIG life altering conditions. I'm sure almost all would jump at the chance to recover but there is that tiny little voice/fear/reluctance...

I've thought about that little voice for a while but didn't speak it out loud until my firewalk this summer. Now I need to explore it more.

It's anxiety provoking to look at ugly parts of yourself. Its really scary to post it publicly, but I kind of do well with facing big things head on. I walked on hot coals after all :)

Yes. I am stalling.

I hope those who read this can accept this me being brave ... and not see this as a gratuitous sharing of something ugly....

So coming up:
1) Make a list of the ways this physical condition is serving you.
2) Make a list or consider other ways you might get these needs met.
3) Journal to the healthy part of you and ask her what she needs to feel safe. (you could do this as a free writing exercise, in other words, begin with an intention to dialogue with that part of you that lives in health, and begin with writing a question to her like "what is it that you need to feel safe?" and then disconnect from the rational part of you and let the pen go wild not worrying about what the words are or where they are coming from.

I tell my children that being brave is not the absence of fear. It is doing what needs to be done DESPITE fear.

TMI. Now what?

I'm watching my two little girls play house in our living room with too much information in my hands.

I recently had another MRI - a redo of the first because they weren't able to get enough information from it. In my area of the US, standard practice for diagnostic test results is that the testing centers do not release the results directly to the patient. In most cases, the patient has to wait until they hear from the doctor - by phone, letter (for good results) or at their next appointment.

After the MRI had a week and half wait for my appointment :

I devised the perfect plan ... I called the MRI center and told them that I needed printouts of all of my reports for my disability application (true). The nice lady there said SURE, in fact I'll be sure to get your report read today so you can pick up this afternoon.

I called that afternoon however and the story had changed.

"I'm sorry ... it is center policy that we cannot release test results to the patient. You must wait to get them from your clinician."

Sooooo ... one of two possibilities had occurred. 1) She got hollered at by her supervisor, or 2) the smudges I had seen on my MRI were not just smudges.

I asked if she could drop them in the mail to me so that I could get them to my disability claims person. She agreed ... and she did.

So now I am sitting here, looking at this paper ... which is quite clearly Possibility #2.

Now what?

Before you go scolding me on being a non-medical person who shouldn't try to interpret my results,you should know that I'm not. My undergrad degree was in Behavioral Neuroscience. My grad degree was in Child Life in Family Centered Care - helping children cope with medical issues. I've worked both as a researching Medical Librarian and as a Certified Child Life Specialist. And I *know* not to interpret my results.

I know that I have no idea what an elevated C-RAP blood test result means ... and it stops at that.

But I can read a report and understand clinical findings. Especially when it is written in plain english that they found X, and that it is consistent with A, but also possibly consistent with B, C, or D.

And A, B, C and D aren't fun. They aren't cancer, but they kinda suck. Big time.

I'm not going to try to sit here and think about the future ... what this could mean, which one I might have. That is what my appointment in 8 days is for.

Right now I just have to cope with a tiny conundrum ... TMI. TMI in my hot little hands. I don't dare post on Facebook about it - my whole extended family is on there. I don't dare tell my mother and don't really want to burden my siblings about it. I honestly don't feel the need to "unburden" myself right now, so that's good. It's just weird to be sitting here on my brown ikea couch that I bought with Tina, watching my children play and knowing there is something wrong in my brain.

It actually a bit comfortable ... to know that I don't have to deal with it yet. I don't HAVE to tell my mother yet, and watch her pain. I don't have to start researching treatments.

I have eight days where I can relax ... I know EXACTLY what my results say and I don't have to live that life yet.

Circles.

I've never understood our society's weird perception of grief.

Media ogles unique and exotic griefs. Empathetic strangers share, remotely, safely, the griefs of celebrated popular figures. Yet when it comes to our own griefs, our own losses ... we have no blueprint.

During my graduate degree I was blessed to intern with a children's loss/bereavement homecare program. The words of my advisor resonate with me daily.

There are many griefs in our lives ... the loss of a dream, the loss of a love, the loss of someone we hold in our heart. Many folks think "sadness", "death" when they hear the word grief but for me it is less ominous. Griefs can be those disappointments that hurt our hearts, the fear of pain to come...

There are many ways to cope with grief - too many to count - and no one person can judge the healthiness of one over the other.

One thing my advisor pointed out to me that is irrefutable, however, is the impact that grief has on our Circles.

Who is in your circle? Do you have a large family, a few very close friends, a spiritual community? Are you active in online communities? How does your grief affect your Circles?

When grief strikes most people respond in one of two ways ... some reach out to their circles, often even reaching out to create wider support circles. And others close their circles, connecting closer with those safest for them.

For some communication is therapeutic ... the worse it gets the more they reach out, lean on their widening circle. For others communication is draining ... the worse it gets the more the griever needs to just cuddle their children and turn off the phone.

I observed families through many variations on these themes. Over time I began to observe my own habits. What are yours?

When my griefs are wrenching but I can wrap my head around them - miscarriage, a bone graft, the loss of trust in a loved one - I reach out, widen my circle.

When my griefs are harder to grasp - the impact my health will have on me and my family - I close my circles.

I wish we talked more about grief with kids, with each other. I have so many dear friends who want to know what they can do, how they can help ... its especially hard to grasp if you have never closed your circles yourself. I just need them to know that I love them for loving me and that I am doing ok. This type of coping isn't about denial - neither denial of the problem nor denial of our need for support.

I'm not sitting here grieving over my fears. I'm loving my children, enjoying the energy I have. It's scary, not knowing something so big, that will impact my babies. But I know you are there if I need you :)