Petunia rambles on and on….

Sponsored by the American Heart Association

Info is from their site

Everyone can support the fight against heart disease in women by wearing red on National Wear Red Day, Friday, Feb. 6, 2009.

It’s a simple, powerful way to raise awareness of heart disease and stroke.  

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My family’s been hit by heart disease. My father died of a massive heart attack, at age 45, with no prior history of cardiac problems. He left a wife of 20 years and three children. I was 6, the youngest, and I don’t remember him at all. Both of my older brothers have had their share of heart attacks, cholesterol problems, stents, angioplasty, heart catheterizations. All fun procedures, I’m sure. How about having your aortic valve replaced?  Mom had that done, then one of my brothers wanted in, too, and had his changed out.

My brothers and I have battled cholesterol – we take Lipitor pills like they were candy. If I were to go off my meds, my cholesterol would skyrocket to 3 times the recommended number; I’ve been on some form of cholesterol-reducing medication for over 20 years.

When I was first diagnosed and my doctor became aware of the family history, he requested that my children go in for testing. He said they wanted a Baseline, an expected low reading that they could follow with subsequent testing, maybe every 5 years or so. The oldest and the youngest came in OK, perhaps, with their numbers in the 180-190 range.  My 10-year-old son’s came back at 275.  It was so damn high that it was immediately assumed that there was an error at the laboratory, and I had to drag that little fellow back in for more blood work. It came back at 278. With no experience treating pediatric patients with cholesterol that high, both A. I. DuPont Hospital for Children and CHoP, the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, were consulted.  They had little experience, and grappled with treating my son.  Twenty years later, he joins us for a Lipitor each night.  I “max”ed out with the highest allowable dosage, and then added different meds. Chemical stress tests are no fun.

Heart disease has traditionally been thought of as more often affecting men.  Perhaps that was true 40 or 50 years ago.  It isn’t true today.  When women fought for equality, this was one area where we didn’t need to win.

Get your cholesterol tested. Learn what foods to avoid OR at least to reduce.  Get the weight down. Quit smoking.

Live to knit again.

Early Monday morning, I had another dentist appointment. I swear I’ve been in that office more than I’ve been home, I think. Well, maybe not, but it damn sure seems that way. I knew there would be many trips in for fittings – that’s one of the reasons I chose a local practitioner, when others told me I could get the work done cheaper if I went north into Pennsylvania.  But that would be a drive of an hour or more each way, multiple times with much more time lost from work.   And the decision to go with this doctor was made late last summer, when fuel for the car was almost 3 times what it is now.  Ultimately, I would have probably paid almost as much in “total costs” going to the cheaper places, and had to deal with a lot more stress and aggravation!  

But what I didn’t figure on was the length of time all this was going to take, from start to completion. I’m the sort that will waiver over a major decision for days, weeks, months even, weighing all the possibilities, worrying about all the weird negative outcomes, driving myself a bit closer to THE EDGE. But when I finally make up my mind, damn it, I want it NOW – and I have the patience of a two-year-old from that point on. NOW, do you hear me??? NOW. I want it done and over with. Bad enough that there are at least 6 appointments to make this damned “dental appliance” but there is 4-6 weeks between each appointment as it has to go back to the laboratory to get the next phase added. The lab is in Tibet, I think, and my teeth are traveling on the back of an elderly Sherpa who has lost his way in the snow.  (Seriously, I asked the doctor where the teeth are traveling too, and he said somewhere in upstate New York, so the “lost in the snow” part may be accurate here)  I have been at this challenging task now since September, trying to get a denture made.  I might be near the end.  

All that’s ahead now is major surgery, pins inserted into my jaw bone – having it broken twice as a kid is coming back to haunt me now – then more fittings, then opening it all up again…… Oh, this is the never-ending story.

And as I’m leaving the office, the secretary says, “Oh, by the way, when we calculated up the costs for you, the ones that you approved before starting all this, we forgot to add the charges for this and that and the other, which will be $1000 more that you’ll owe us.

I stifled the urge to shit myself in public.

So I leave the dentist and go on into work, late again. And I get a call from my family doctor’s office. They just got the results back from chest x-rays taken last week as a follow-up to the aspiration pneumonia I got while have a “testing procedure” done under anesthesia 2 weeks ago. I am told that the right lung is clear and the left is “improving.” This is doctor-speak for “the pnuemonia is still there and the first antibiotics didn’t do much at all except waste time and money.” Doctor wants to see me. He writes a new prescription for a different, stronger, more expensive antibiotic for another week.

Next up, next morning, was a follow-up appointment with the surgeon who did the “diagnostic testing procedure.”   The one with a ” : ” in it. The one that landed me in an ambulance to the main hospital, hours in the Emergency Room, and admitted because I couldn’t breathe or speak.  Breathing being the more important of the two.  Actually, Pop thought my inability to speak was a perk that the doctor threw in, just for his benefit!   And now, because the “preparation” necessary before these sorts of procedures, the preparation that didn’t work until I was in the damn Emergency Room, “occluded” the view, he wants me to come back in 3 months to schedule another go-round. I did not say to him, “You are out of your fucking mind,” but I certainly thought it.  Only years of training from my mother on respect and decorum and ladylike behavior kept me from it, but it was really tough.  I almost blurted it out.  I came so very close.

The way I see it, over the next 3 months, I’ll get bills from the surgeon, the surgery center where the procedure was done, the doctors in the Emergency Room, the radiologists who read all the chest x-rays, the ambulance service that carted my sorry self over there, the doctor who actually admitted me and the hospital itself.  In 3 months, I should have paperwork and figures on what our insurance is going to pay against all these bills, and the total cost of what this fiasco is going to cost me personally. I’ll be making payment arrangements with many of these providers, and maybe I’ll get most/all of them paid off by Christmas. But I doubt it. And the doctor says it needs to be done again ’cause he didn’t really get a good look. I’m wondering why, when I told them right away and up-front that the prep didn’t work as expected, really didn’t work at all, why the damned procedure wasn’t cancelled.

And some wonder why I knit. Why I would need the soothing, repetitiveness of knitting?  Indeed.

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And then – it got better.

I attended the second meeting of the newly formed Kent County Knitters and Crocheters.  It snowed on and off all day, and we wondered if that would affect attendence, but little snow was on the roads, and we had a good turn-out. Had some new ones there, and a few that attended last time were not there. Scheduling conflict, weather concerns, not their “cup of tea?” We shall see. I’m enjoying the diversity of skills we’re getting. One spinner there, and that was great to hear! Several experienced knitters, comfortable in their skills. One ready to send in her Level II work to TKGA for evaluation. She brought with her the enormous binder of knitted and written materials that she had submitted to gain her Level I certificate, and it was an impressive piece of work. A bit daunting; in the interests of all there who wanted a look at it, I looked for a few minutes and passed it over to the lady sitting beside me.  I’d have liked to study it for about a week, to improve my chances of someday achieving these levels myself. I would have taken notes on the formatting and presentation, which showed a great deal of time and thought. One lady came to the first meeting with a desire to learn, and friend Rena got her started. She was back, with a learner’s project, maybe 40 stitches in worsted weight worked in garter stitch. She said she worked it and pulled it out, and did it again, and again. But she stuck with it, clearly was “getting it” and I made sure I pointed out to her the obvious evenness of her stitches, one of the goals we knitters strive for. We’ll have her doing lace before the year is out, maybe even spinning!!

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When I woke up this morning, I crawled to the coffee pot, fixed that first cup of coffee, the one that would let me know whether or not I still had a pulse.  With the one eye that was open, I glanced out the window, and then I did use the obscenities that I had suppressed in the doctor’s office.  My car was again covered in snow. This drill almost every morning is getting annoying.  Perhaps I could have saved Mother Nature all this trouble if I had just bought a white car to start with.

In another silly moment, whilst in the pharmacy waiting for yet another prescription, I got bored and wandered about.  Down the pet aisle (aside: why is there a Pet Aisle in a Pharmacy?)  and I spy a basket of doggie toys. Because it’ll be some time before my medicine is ready, I started digging through all the toys, many of them in the shape of animals. Whoa! What’s that fuzzy one? Sure enough, it was a little sheep, with white curly fuzzy bits.  And then I found one with a light tan “fleece.”  Because I’m a jerk, I quickly grabbed them both up – and I’m standing there in the pharmacy with these two dog toys in my arms, thinking that it never occurred to me to buy one for the DOG!!   So I bought three.

She really likes hers, and has been racing around the house with it. tossing it in the air, dropping the soggy thing in every lap she finds.  Pop’s about ready to drop it in the bin when she’s not looking.

You would have bought them, too, 

Alright, a show of hands, please.

How many know that February is National Pot Roast Month? Everybody’s got their hand up in the air, right?

(How many don’t care at all?)

Those that don’t care can sit down, but they will not be served when I make the next pot roast. Son #2, that means no mashed potatoes for you, sir.  (I bet he’s paying attention now!)

I make a good pot roast, because I was fortunate enough to be the daughter of one who made a great pot roast. I had sense enough to shut up and listen, respecting that we had many differences of opinion on many topics outside the kitchen, but when it came to cooking, she knew her way around the kitchen, and only a fool would argue with her about food prep. Foolish I am, but when she cooked, I watched closely.

Lately, beef seems outrageously high in price – but still, some cuts are less so. Chuck or round are less expensive, a generally tougher cut of meat so they don’t do well broiled. Would be like chewing on the sole of your shoe. But they are tasty cuts so it’s worth learning how to deal with them properly.

That’s where the long, slow, moist cooking does the trick. Recipes? Sure, there’s tons of them.  Ask 20 experienced cooks and you’ll get 20 different responses – and all of them delicious.  Search the internet and you’ll find 42,000 more.

Here’s some tips.  Brown the roast.  Heat oil in the pan and rotate the meat until it is seared on all sides.  Cause Mom said to do it.  It does improve the flavor.  There are several methods of cooking a pot roast.  Years ago, my mother always used a pressure cooker. What would take several hours on the stove or in the oven took about 50 minutes or so under pressure.  I’ve done it that way, and it came out fine, but I didn’t like having a pressure cooker going when the kids were little, and often underfoot.  Maybe that’s silly, but I was uncomfortable with it. As it comes out just as tender and tasty cooked on the stove or in the oven, I didn’t see the point of the very slight risk. If you choose to use a pressure cooker, always follow the manufacturer’s instructions carefully, make sure the pot is scrupulously clean and check safety valves and gaskets EVERY time the pot is used. Note that there are some things that should NEVER be cooked in a pressure cooker, and there’s good reason for the rules. Play it safe.
Another thing I didn’t like about using a pressure cooker was that you can’t open it up and peek inside mid-way through the cooking time! You can’t add anything, maybe a little more of this or that, you can’t stir it, and the wonderful smell of dinner doesn’t waft out of the kitchen and run through the house.

I generally use a cut of beef round roast, about 3 pounds. While it’s in a dutch oven getting it’s sides seared, I’m cutting veggies nearby. I cut up about 4 large onions, sliced, then clean and slice 4-5 carrots, and 4-5 branches of celery, while turning that meat often. By the time I’ve got all the vegetables cut, that meat is ready to go. Pull the meat out for a sec, put the onions in first, then the meat on top, then place the celery and carrots around.  Add hot water until it comes about halfway up the meat.  Add about 1 teaspoon salt, 1/3 teaspoon black pepper, about 1 tablespoon of brown spicy mustard (Mom said to) and I always add a tablespoon of Gravy Master – Mom swore by that stuff, for the taste, for the color, for the smell of it.  It’s not always the easiest stuff to find and when I do locate it, I’ve been known to buy 20 bottles, stocking up for the decade, but I’ve never been without it in the last 40 years – (Mom shipped me cases/12 bottles when I was in Panama, because the military commissaries never carried it!)  (btw, these are very small 2-oz. bottles)  Bring the liquid up to a boil, cut it back to simmer, put the lid on, go away. Watch TV, fold laundry. Look in now and again, letting the good smells out. Stir to make sure all the veggies are finally cooking down into the liquid and softening.

Now my family are all mashed potato freaks, and that’s what I make with this. They’re going to fight over the potatoes, pile big white mountains onto their plates and make a well in the center, filled with gravy. Every time. This is how I sneak healthy carrots into them – when they’re simmered in meat juices for hours, they’re irresistible.

So after 2 and a half hours of simmering the meat, and the potatoes are peeled, cut and boiling, you’ll need to get the meat out of the liquid and onto a cutting board for a bit. It needs to “set” for a few minutes before carving. Get a coffee mug out of the cupboard and put 4 heaping tablespoons of cornstarch into it. Then add cold water until the cup is about 3/4 full. Stir gently until all the cornstarch is incorporated into the water, then add all at once to the hot meat juice/vegetable mixture.  Stir continuously as this will thicken quickly. Simmer for at least 5 minutes, which will have your gravy done just around the time that the meat is carved and the potatoes are mashed.  Handy, that.

This can also be done in a dutch oven, in the oven at 350 F. for 2 to 2 and a half hours.

A pot roast is ideal for the crock pot or slow cooker – the only change I make is to reduce the amount of water that I put in.  Start with the water coming a scant 1/3 of the way up the side of the roast.  Less liquid seems to evaporate out of these pots, so it must be reduced early. Small amounts of liquid can always be added later if needed.

Now that’s one way.  Mom’s way.  Note that all the veggies are “hard” ones, and they can stand being simmered for an extended period of time.  That’s why there’s no peas or potatoes in the recipe!  Many people like potatoes in the mix – great.  Just put them in later in the cooking, so they don’t boil down to mush.

And for variations, when I’m bored in the kitchen.  Well, I’ve simmered the meat in a few cans of Italian stewed tomatoes, served it with any pasta readily available at home.   I’ve known many that use cans of mushroom soup. Beef broth and wine. I’ve used enchilada sauce – oooh, that was a good idea. Leftover spaghetti sauce. Sometimes its all about using up what’s around before it goes south.

Lots of folks are tightening their belts.  Being able to make a great meal out of a “lesser” cut of meat is one way of reducing costs.  So is cooking at home rather than eating out.  After eating that large helping of mashed potatoes, though, we all might be loosening our belts instead of tightening them.