The Evidence is Clear

Finally. I got it done.

I am referring to getting my mother’s household companions to take their health more seriously.

You see, they are in their late 40s and with hefty physique to match.   If they were to take care of my very physically active mother, I had to make certain my mother’s companions stayed healthy and kept up with her. But more than that, they need to do it for their very young children.

Initially, using a digital blood pressure monitor, I took their BP readings.  As expected, their BPs were on the high side.

The Quest

The annual visit of my mother to the States always includes visits to her doctor for the once-a-year routine check-up.   She used to confidently manage these visits on her own with a sibling offering to drive her for the appointments.  But a year ago, she needed to be accompanied to these visits.  We took charge in filling out the usual questionnaire given out and sat with her as she met with her doctors.  (Still Mommy)

Maybe, we reasoned, it was because she was getting on in years.  Slower, more careful with her steps; quieter, more introspective.  On the other hand, she was easily agitated in unfamiliar surroundings; and quick to declare, “I cannot!” 

Tic Toc Tic Toc

I am now on my sixth year of early retirement loving every free minute of each day.  So far so good.  I have not dyed my hair for the last five years and celebrate every liberated silver curl on my head.   

My brother-in-law has given me a new nickname: Silver Fox.  And am liking it too.

With the grace of God and some discipline, I have managed to stay relatively healthy.  I am on my third year without a live-in helper and grateful for the energy to do some housework and the cooking.  Last year, I started using weights in my exercises to slow down the rising level of my blood sugar.  So far, so good.

Until time finally caught up with me early this year. 

I have just recently been placed on a daily dose of 2.5 mg Amlodipine.  A milestone of sorts.  All because of a nagging head-ache that would not go away.  Everything’s normal one minute, then a headache creeps up from the back of my nape. I have palpitations and am a bit dizzy— and it’s not from watching Daniel Craig or Hugh Jackman on cable teevee.     (pics courtesy of the internet-- although wished I took them : )

Initially, I thought it might be a migraine or possibly my sinuses were acting up—as was my usual self-diagnosis in the past.  Lucky to have been given an Omron BP monitor, I did my check-ups in the comfort of my home.  With two weeks’ worth of BP readings, I decided to visit a cardiologist, Dr T.

After the initial interview, Dr T wrote up a request sheet for a variety of tests.  The tests, he informed me, would give both of us a better picture of my health in general and my heart in particular. 

Off I went to schedule and have these tests: Blood extraction and ECG (quick and easy); 2-D echo (I could hear the swishing and swooshing of my blood go through my heart); and, the bothersome 24-hour ambulatory BP monitor.  Of all the tests done, I did not like the ambulatory BP monitor—a BP monitor contraption you wear for 24 hours.  Every 30 minutes, the armband would tighten on my arm and I have to stay still for a minute.  Being the anxious type, this set-up was stressful the whole time I had it on. It was most uncomfortable at bed time.  I am sure my uneasiness contributed to a skewed reading. 

A week after, I visited Dr T and was a bit nervous to hear the verdict.  Needless really.  Overall, he predicted I would live to a ripe old age if I continued to take care of myself. The 2-D echo test showed a slight enlargement of one side of my heart-- not due to my friendly nature but from the build-up of pressure to pump blood through my body over the years. 

“What can I do Doc?”, I asked.

“Well, you could continue with more exercise, less salt, less worries or stress”, he stated.  “Let’s also start you on a small dose of Amlodipine.”

I sat for a minute and thought.  With a history of hypertension on both sides of the family, it was a matter of time I would have to resort to medication to control my pressure.  Sure, I can exercise myself to the bones and eat sparsely. But there is no way I can possibly control my volatile emotions ( I like to create my own dramas and panic attack scenarios) nor deny my family genes that run through my veins.   My father, mother and three younger siblings started taking meds to control their BP levels in their late 40s.  I, on the other hand, am just beginning.     

So far, so good.

----xoxooxox----

Dr T holds office at the Philippine Heart Center.  I remember the first time I visited said hospital.  It was in the late 80s. I was there to visit a 5-year old nephew who had undergone open heart surgery.  At that time, I was impressed with the sleek and no-nonsense feel of the place. 

Art in the Heart

Visiting it recently, I have to say that I was quite disappointed with what I saw.  The hospital could not escape the same sad fate suffered by government buildings.  Starting out all new and promising only to end up looking tired and dilapidated. 

Mural at the Lobby: Reminder of the Past

And what is it with all those little retail establishments inside and around the hospital?!?!  Granted, it makes for the convenience of getting a bite to eat but to have a bazaar (even if it’s in a corner) is stretching it. There’s a mini-art gallery at the lobby too.  Maybe the viewing provides an escape from thinking about one’s medical conditions plus there’s the rental payments that could go a long way to improving facilities at the hospital? Hmmmm….

The toilets, the hallways, the offices although clean could benefit with some R & R (renovation and repairs).  I wonder if the operating rooms and equipment are up to par with private hospitals.  I also wondered why the common areas were super cold.  I am sure this is fine for examination rooms with all those fancy electronic equipment.  But what about the patients and visitors freezing in the waiting area?  (Heart attack, No. Pneumonia, Yes!)

There is one thing though I cannot fault the hospital with.   The medical staff—from the doctors to the medical technicians to the security guards.  Pleasant, accommodating and attentive. Ready to explain procedures and guide you on your way around the labyrinth of medical jargons and hospital passages. I was relaxed and placed at ease.

So far, so good.

----xoxoxox---

Did you know that avocado is one fruit that is good for you?  They contain healthy fats that contribute to the reduction of bad cholesterol in the blood and lowers risk of stroke and heart disease.  But as usual, what you add to it (cream, milk, cheese, sugar) can tilt the balance from good to risky.  A matter of personal choice.

Just last week, my sister, G, (Click Here to know more about G) came over one night to drop off a bag of avocados and a deliciously addicting 5-layer spicy dip and a bag of corn chips to complete the indulgence.   Cheddar and cream cheeses, ground beef, tomatoes, avocados and chopped jalapenos (sili pang-sinigang or sili espada). Too good to turn my back on and so I chose to indulge.

But I eventually pulled myself away after half of the dip was consumed and turned my eyes on the avocados.  Using my sister M’s recipe for guacamole (click here for the recipe), I continued my avocado indulgence. This time on a healthier level.

Even so, there was still more avocados left over.  With the help of the internet, I found an avocado cake recipe ( click Joy the Baker).  The recipe can’t get any healthier with “Vegan” in its name.

So far, so good!

Vegan Avocado Chocolate Cake

3 cups all-purpose flour

6 Tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons baking powder

2 teaspoons baking soda

2 cups granulated sugar

1/4 cup vegetable oil (I used corn oil)

1/2 cup soft avocado, well mashed and strained about 2 small avocados (you may use a blender)

2 cups water

2 Tablespoons white vinegar

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease and flour two 8 or 9-inch rounds. Set aside.

Sift together all of the dry ingredients except the sugar. Set that aside too.

Mix all the wet ingredients together in a bowl, including the mashed and sieved avocado.

Add sugar into the wet mix and stir.

Mix the wet with the dry all at once, and beat with a whisk until smooth.

Pour batter into a greased cake tins. Bake for 30 to 40 minutes, until a toothpick inserted comes

out clean.

Let cakes cool in pan for 15 minutes, then turn out onto cooling racks to cool completely before frosting with avocado buttercream.

Avocado Buttercream Frosting from Alton Brown ( I reduced the sugar by a third)

8 ounces (230 grams) of avocado meat, about 2 small to medium,very ripe avocados

2 teaspoons lemon juice (I used juice from lemoncito)

1 pound powdered sugar, sifted ( I used 2 cups)

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Peel and pit the soft avocados. It’s important to use the ripest avocados you can get your hands on. If the avocados have brown spots in the meat, avoid those spots when you scoop the meat into the bowl.

Place the avocado meat, lemoncito juice and vanilla into a blender and zap away until smooth.  

Add the powdered sugar a little at a time and beat.  It will turn a darker green and will be gooey in consistency.

Overall, the cake has an intriguing taste. I got mixed comments from my tasters.  Some liked it immediately; for others, it took a second forkful; and  a few declared it would take some time to acquire a taste for avocados in cake. 

So like many things in life.

Notes: 

• As advised in the original recipe, you can store this in the refrigerator if not using right away. It won’t turn brown. 
• Use really, really ripe avocados to avoid getting an acrid (mapakla) after taste. 
• Do not cut the cake in half cross-wise.  It is very tender and moist. I did and it was a messy exercise.  Just slather the frosting on one cake and top with the other before pouring the rest of the frosting on the top cake layer. 
• Chill before serving.  This makes for easy slicing and serving.

The Best Medicine

It began with an itchy throat in the morning.  Good thing I brought some lozenges and the irksome bother was gone. Or so I thought. 

By the afternoon, my body felt heavy and my joints were painful.  Oh, Oh.  This was not good. Specially when I was away from home to accompany my mother with her medical check-ups in the States. An early night to catch some sleep should do the trick and by morning I would be as good as new. Or so I thought. I was up every hour because of a nagging cough.

I did not fare well the next day.  The itchy throat was back with a vengeance and gave me a cough that came at the most embarrassing times. Like in the middle of a conversation with my sister, M. 

Before I had my next coughing spell, M had emptied her medicine cabinet of its cold-cough-flu arsenal of quick fix.   

R & R (Resting & Reading)

There is only one thing to do if, like me, you need to take to your bed for some length of time. Read.

Luckily, I had two books that were longing to be read—they had been on my bedside table for a long time; a stack of magazines that had started to gather dust; and, a collection of cookbooks that have not been revisited for sometime.

Today, I decided to go through my horde of cookbooks. I heard or read somewhere that one needed only two cookbooks: one, a cookbook that served as a general go-to or manual, containing basic cooking terms and processes. Better if the book had a measurement conversion table. Best still if the book contained a substitution table. The second cookbook would be one containing tried and tested recipes—usually one that is of one’s country or a notebook filled with recipes from dear mama, siblings and friends. I find this to be true as I go through my books in my collection. But I will stretch the number to about 6—the number of dog-eared and food stained go-to books that I have.



The rest, I continue to treasure because 1) I love old cookbooks for the memories they evoke;



2) I love dessert cookbooks for the possible challenges to give a recipe a try;



3) I love cookbooks containing dishes of other countries for the cultural insights they give and sometimes for the fond memories of a country visited.



I expect to be fully recovered in a day or two and alas, I will not be able to go through all of my cookbooks one by one. But for now, I count myself lucky to have them for company.

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I found that there are a couple of recipes I would like to do as soon as I am energized enough to get the ingredients and spend time in the kitchen.

One of them is apple pie. I need to practice my pie crust making skills again in time for the Christmas season. ‘Coz it won’t be Christmas in my house without the scent of cinnamon and apples baking in the kitchen.

I have used this recipe for the apple pie filling for the longest time. Maybe this could become a keeper in your files as well.

Old Fashioned Apple Pie



Recipe for two-crust pie (check out prior post for this or you can use your own recipe)

Apple Pie Filling
½ c sugar
½ c brown sugar, firmly packed
¼ c flour
½ t cinnamon
¼ t nutmeg (optional)
1/8 t salt
¼ c butter
6-8 medium sized tart apples, peeled, cored and sliced (6 cups)
2 t lemon juice (calamansi will do)

Prepare 2-pie crust recipe and divide into 2. Roll out one-half of the recipe to fit a 9-inch pie plate. Roll out the 2nd crust and set aside.

Mix together the first 6 ingredients in a small bowl. Set Aside.
Sprinkle apples with lemon juice in large bowl; add 1 ½ cs of sugar mixture; toss gently to coat apples evenly. Arrange apples in prepared pastry shell, sprinkle with remaining ½ c sugar mixture. Cut up the butter and put on top of the apples.
Cover top with remaining pie crust and tuck this under the lower crust before crimping. This seals in the juices of the pie. Press edges together with the tines of a fork. Cut gashes on top of the pie to allow steam to escape.

Brush the crust with a lightly beaten egg yolk. This will give the crust a nice brown toasty color once baked. Bake in a hot oven (450 F) for 10 minutes; reduce heat to moderate (350F) continue baking for 35 to 40 minutes until apples are just tender. Carefully remove from the oven and cool before serving.

Note:
a) to keep bottom crust from soaking the juices, sprinkle some of the sugar mixture over the bottom crust before filling the pie.
b) To prevent juices from boiling over and onto your oven, place your pie pan on top of a larger pan. Hopefully, the pan will catch all the drippings.
c) You may top slices of your pie with vanilla ice cream. (pie ala mode)

Practice makes for the picture perfect pie.

The Fear Factor

5:15AM. I wake up to throbbing pain on my lower back. I get up gingerly to go to the bathroom to relieve myself. Slowly I make my way back to the son’s room—long vacant since he moved out two years ago. It is a room where I sleep at night to escape the deafening snores of my hubby. As I try to go back to sleep, the pain on my back continued to bother me to the point that it’s excruciating to turn over. Fearing that it would get worse, I decided to go to my hubby. But it had become too painful to get out of bed. I managed to get on the floor and wiggled like a worm to the door. With great effort, I turned the door’s knob and opened the door. With so much energy used up from the exertion, I just laid on my back and let the cool morning air fan over my drenched body.

I had now reached the Panic point with all sorts of frightening thoughts going through my head. I remembered the morning I found my son on the same floor more than 10 years ago. He had suffered a slipped disc. I remembered all the information on slipped disc that I had read up at that time. Would I need surgery, would I be incapacitated the rest of my life, would I ever….

I could hear my hubby snoring thunderously away in our room.

“J, J”, I called out to my daughter in the next room. “Help me.”

“What’s wrong?”, were her first words as she hurriedly opened her bedroom door. She immediately went to me and holding my hand, asked, “What’s wrong mommy?”

“I can’t get up,” I smiled weakly, trying to disguise my fear.

By then there was some stirring in the kitchen below and I knew that the helpers were up.

“Please call H & M to help me get up”, I instructed sensing that she was not strong enough to lift me.

She leaves me and calls out to them, “H, M. Come up and help mommy.” And in a blink of an eye, her legs buckle in front of her and she falls slowly to the floor. J had just fainted and I could not do anything but call out to her.

“J, J! Are you okay?”, was my terrified call to her.

By then the helpers were up and I could imagine the thoughts that were going on in their bewildered minds as they saw my daughter and I sprawled on the floor.



But just as quickly as J had fainted, she regained consciousness and slowly got up. It turned out that the sudden rush to get up made her light-headed. Getting a hold of her senses, she immediately called out instructions to the help on how to lift me off the floor and deposit me back into bed.



My daughter then gently eased my fears away and though the pain did not go away, I was no longer as frightened and had a better disposition . Fear turned out to be the worse enemy. For the rest of the morning, she ministered to my needs: hot water bag for my back, preparing my oatmeal and making me comfortable for the long rest up ahead. When it became evident that I would be alright, we started to laugh about the whole experience—specially her fainting spell. It was good to laugh again—even if it hurt like murder.

! : ! : ! : ! : ! : ! : ! : ! : ! : ! : ! : ! : ! : ! : ! : ! :

Suffering from lower back pain is inherent in my family. Uncles, aunts, sisters, brothers and even my son could not escape from it. I have had several bouts of lower back pains since I was a teenager. Some mild enough to ignore and some needing doctor’s attention and long spells of bed rest. I know the general drill: heat to be applied to affected area; lots of rest on a firm mattress; no strenuous activities and some pain killers.

This latest experience thought me once again how precious health is and how fortunate that I have people around me that care.

I don’t know how long my recuperation will be this time but I resolve to give thanks for each day I wake up to feel the pain dissipate. I also pray that should it occur again, I will have more sense not to panic and be less dramatic.