Adventures in Medicine & Mommyhood

Healthy Cuz I Said So...

2012-02-09T14:53:00.001-08:00

The title of this post is a bit misleading, as in all reality, any good food is comfort food to me. Ha! But when it's been one of those days (such as Rachel cutting 2 teeth...at the same time!!) I go to Chocolate Chip cookies.

I have probably close to 20 different recipes for chocolate chip cookies, but this is one that I came across the other day and modified a bit to make more healthy. A fellow blogger lost a family member today, Windtraveler , and so these babies are for Brittany and Scott....and the little one on the way :)

xoxo D.

Healthy Cuz I said so Chocolate Chip Cookies

makes 30ish cookies (depending upon how much dough you eat!)

3 Tbs olive oil (or any oil you have on hand)

2 cups ground walnuts (or almond... or hazelnut.... or whatever you fancy)

1 cup brown sugar

1/2 cup water

2 tsp vanilla extract

1 1/2 cups Oat flour

1 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

2 cups Rolled Oats

1 1/2 cups chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350F - or if you're on a boat, whatever comes close :)

Combine ground nuts with oil until combined.

Heat water and brown sugar over medium low heat until combined. Add to nut mixture.

Add vanilla and mix until combined.

Add oat flour, baking soda, salt and stir until combined.

Add rolled oats.

Fold in chocolate chips!

Place heaping tablespoon sized amounts of dough onto a cookie sheet and bake for 8-10 minutes until golden brown.

yummy yummy yum yum happiness :)

Campbells, eat your heart out!!

2012-02-07T16:05:00.000-08:00

I have a lot of fond memories of tomato soup. My mom used to heat up the condensed version on the stove and add some milk to it, making it extra creamy. Pairing it with an ooey-gooey grilled cheese made it pretty much the greatest meal ever. Every time. And try as I might, I could never quite achieve the same effect when I would make it for myself.

Why is that?????
You can follow the steps exactly, but it never tastes like Mom's. So frustrating!

So the other day I decided I was going to make some for dinner - omitting the milk (obviously...) and attempting a whole new version - a new frontier, if you will - of tomato soup.

and it was AWESOME!! Even better the next day. So... next time you have a craving, give this one a try.

Creamy Tomato Soup

Serves 4

2 Tbs Olive oil
1 Tbs vegan margarine
1 onion, chopped
1 garlic chopped
2 tsp salt
4 cups Vegetable broth
1 28-ounce can diced tomatoes
2 tsp agave
1/2 cup raw cashews
1/2 cup water
1 tsp cider vinegar

fresh chiffonaded basil for garnish

In a 4-quart pot over medium heat, sauté the olive oil, margarine, onion and garlic for about 10 minutes, or until translucent.

Add salt, broth, tomatoes and agave. Simmer for 15 minutes.

In a dry blender, grind the cashews to a fine powder. Add the water and vinegar, blending until smooth and creamy.

Remove soup from heat. Pour cashews into soup and blend with an immersion blender. You can also do this in a regular blender, in batches.

Ladle hot soup into bowls and garnish with fresh basil. Yum!

Alternately, you can use Fire Roasted tomatoes in this recipes for a fun variation.

Enjoy!!

It's not a tumor....or is it?

2012-01-22T18:42:00.000-08:00

Back in October of 2009 we had started the day with back to back 911 calls in the valley, and around 1130 had finally had the chance to grab some decent coffee and sit down in our recliners to catch up on some TV. Hey - I never said there weren't perks to the job :)

We turned on the TV to find ourselves watching a medical special on PBS about rare genetic disorders; this episode focused specifically on tumors. We watched a story about a man with "Marfan Lindauer Syndrome"and as the story came to a close, our radios started going off with tones. Time to head down the road.

Usually I don't drive to the calls because I can navigate really well, and faster than K - something she will admit to whole heartedly. So our deals is that she drives and I map. Since the call just happened to be at one of our favorite BBQ establishments up valley, I jumped in the drivers seat and away we went.

We arrived on scene with Fire and the volunteers, eager to help grab our gear, as they gave us some vague information about a female and a seizure. K and I headed inside to find our patient, walking through the back door where the manager was waiting to greet us. K knows the manager quite well, and as we walked past her I heard K say "we're gonna need 2 of your amazing cheeseburgers to go" in a serious voice. The manager chuckled and rolled her eyes.

Walking into the dining room I see the volunteers hovering over a young woman laying on the floor by a booth.

"Hey guys, whats going on?" I ask.

Nothing. Nada. Zero response.

Really? I wasn't being quite. Its apparent that the volunteers are going to play games today.

"HI. Someone want to tell the medic whats going on?"One of the elderly gents looks over at me.

This particular volunteer department is known for their lack of skills, professionalism and - oh yea, SEXUAL HARASSMENT. Did I say that? why yes, I believe I did. However, I should note that my sarcasm for their responses towards me has (and never will have) no end.

The boys club finally turns to talk to me -

"Oh hi." the captain says. "I think she had a seizure. He has the info (pointing at another volunteer with a seriously bad comb-over)."

I turn to bad comb-over guy. He looks at me nervously -

"um, seizures?" he says

Great. Is that a question or a fact? Time to move on.

I move around to the patients head and kneel next to her on the floor. She is awake, in her early twenties, pale but responsive. She states that she has no memory of the event, so my next question is for her husband sitting next to me.

Turns out that while eating one of said amazing cheeseburgers, our 26 year old friend had a seizure and was helped to the floor, where she continued to seize for about 2 minutes. Never having had an episode like this before, she is completely embarrassed.

For reference, the poor cheeseburger was thrown all over the place, and she never even got to enjoy a single bite. Tragic!!

Everyone is standing around listening to the story and attempting to figure out what happened. The patient begins to tell me a story about how she has a weird tumor disorder, where her body grows (usually) benign tumors internally.

"Oh yeah, Marfan Lindauer Syndrome." I say.

All the guys look at me. "Seriously?" says the battalion chief. "You are ridiculous. How do you know this stuff???" He always calls me with crazy medical questions that I can usually answer. I can't help it. I enjoy what I do!

We load the patient and start heading down the highway to the trauma hospital. She starts asking me about my thoughts on what cause seizures, and we talk about everything from stress and dehydration to tumors. We turn off at our exit and are just a few blocks from the ER. She starts to turn very pale and says that her face is going numb.

I look over at my cardiac monitor and see that her blood pressure has just jumped up to 170/98. That's pretty high for anyone - especially a 26 year old. I keep talking to her and reassure her that I'm going to take good care of her. I unlock my narcotic box and set up my meds for a seizure just in time for her to have one. I slowly push the meds and watch her body stop shaking and her vitals return to normal. She is unconscious now as we roll her into the ER, and I start talking to the doctor.

She seized twice while I was in the ER that day finishing my paperwork for her call. I never got the full story of what her diagnosis was, but I'm assuming with her disorder, that she probably had tumors that were developing in her brain.

I hadn't thought about this call in quite a while, but I received an email from her husband today telling me that she had passed away at their home in NYC last night from complications. He said that she talked about their trip to our little valley quite a lot and always told the story about her seizure and ride to the hospital.

It's funny how people stay with you, even when you only know them for an instant.

Cougar vs. Cheetah

2011-12-31T09:42:00.000-08:00

I spent a lot of time at the Veterans Home, here in our small little valley, doing transfers and dropping off patients. We had the occasional 911 call there too, as the hospital (if you could really still call it that) had lost copious amounts of its funding over the past ten years. The result of which, was a significant drop in the level of care, and opportunities available. There were plenty of RN's and CNA's wandering about, but only one (geriatric specific) doctor for the entire facility - yep! I said ONE.

The veterans home, which I can't formally name for legal reasons, was originally founded in 1882 after the Mexican war, and the buildings that sit on this hillside are really quite beautiful. It has fallen by the wayside a bit, with paint starting to turn from its stunning cream to a dull shade of...well...brown. The spanish style architecture can be seen from the highway, and the museums, and swimming pool bring people from miles around. The buildings house veterans from several eras, the oldest from WWI, and cover needs for Alzheimer's, nursing care, assisted living, and PTSD care.

One morning, K and I stood with our gurney next to the elevators, attempting to not block the tiny hallway on the bottom floor of the Hospital building. A single resident stood with us as we waited for what seemed like hours for the elevator to arrive. The man, quietly reading a book, suddenly spoke to us:

"Do you know what a cougar is?" he asked

I smile and can't help but imagine where this conversation is headed.

"Do you mean the animal or the human, sir?" I replied.

He smiled at me, showing a row of missing teeth. "The human. The older female that goes after young men."

"Yes," I say; at this point I can no longer hold in the giggles. "Are you asking because you think that I am a cougar?!"

Just for the record - I'm 30 - I seriously doubt I qualify for cougar status (well, that and the fact that I am married!), but I couldn't help but continue the conversation as we stepped into the elevator headed for the third floor.

"Oh no!" He replied. "Do you think that if a cougar isn't faithful to her man, then that makes her a cheetah?"

K and I erupt in laughter as we reach the third floor. "Have a nice day!" he says as we exit the elevator.

Oh those veterans... :)

Soup Weekend

2011-11-20T17:08:00.000-08:00

Ok, so this has officially turned into the weekend of soups. It's just so dark and cold outside (not to mention rainy!!) that I don't feel like going out to eat or run errands. So this was today's lunch. It is a butternut squash - apple soup from Isa Chandra Moskowitz's book "Appetite for Reduction". Her food blog is also one of my favorites - www.theppk.com, so you should check it out if you get a chance!

I seem to be making half sized versions of all of these soup recipes that I make, because Rachel doesn't eat that much. And 6 servings of soup is WAY more than Ed and I need lol. :) The following is the original recipe though -

Butternut - Apple Soup

1 tsp olive oil
1 medium onion, diced small
1 Tbs fresh ginger (I used 1/4 tsp ground dry ginger)
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 tsp red pepper flakes
2 tsp dried rosemary
1/2 tsp salt
3 lbs butternut squash, peeled, seeded and cut into small chunks
1 lb red apples, peeled, cored and cut into small chunks
2 cups apple cider
2 cups vegetable broth
1 Tbs feshly squeezed lime juice

I had to make some changes for what I had on hand, but my version turned out great. It is sort of a sweet and spicy soup with a ton of flavor. Goes great with crusty bread.

My changes:

Instead of butternut squash, I had a delicata squash that needed to be used soon. So it won.

I didn't have dried rosemary, but I did have a "bouquet garni" blend, which was rosemary, thyme, dill and oregano. I used just a pinch (maybe 1/4 tsp) and it worked great!

I also didn't have apple cider, so I ended up using apple juice, which tends to be sweeter. So I used 1 cup of the juice and 1 cup of water. Worked just fine.

I didn't have a lime, so I didn't use it. So there! :)

Preheat a 4 quart pot over medium heat. Saute the onion in the oil for 5 -7 minutes, until translucent.

Add the ginger and garlic, red pepper flakes, rosemary and salt, and saute for a minute more.

Add the squash, apples, cider, and broth. Cover and bring to a boil. Once boiling, lower the heat just a bit and simmer for about 20 minutes, or until the squash is tender.

Puree the soup with either an immersion blender, or in batches in a blender. If using a blender, make sure that you let steam from the soup escape, otherwise it will build up in the blender... and will be messy.

The original recipe serves 6.

Let's see what tomorrow's soup is... lol :)

Not Your Mama's Corn Chowder

2011-11-18T18:01:00.000-08:00

I'm constantly looking for easy and healthy recipes, and since Ed has one hell of a cold today (my version wasn't nearly as virulent and only lasted a few days) I decided I would try a new corn chowder recipe. My mom has always made a great homemade corn chowder, but it's base was always dairy and I am trying to avoid that as much as possible these days - especially milk. So my recipe for today comes from one of my favorite new cookbooks - Vegan Homestyle, by Kay Hansen, who is a good friend of my parent's and an amazing cook!

Corn Chowder

makes 10 cups

3 cups peeled potatoes, chopped into small bite sized cubes
2 cups water (or veggie broth)
1 stalk celery, diced
1/2 medium onion, chopped
1 bay leaf
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp ground celery seed
1/2 tsp parsley
1/2 tsp marjoram
1/2 tsp summer savory

(I didn't have some of the above spices, but I noticed that my brand of "Poultry Seasoning" contained all of them plus some thyme, so I added 1/2 tsp of this seasoning instead of the above spices)

2 cups corn, fresh, frozen, or canned and drained

2 cups water blended with:
1/2 cup cashews
1 Tbs arrowroot powder

Simmer the first ten ingredients until potatoes are tender. Add the corn and simmer until hot. Blend the water, cashews, and arrowroot powder together. Turn the heat to low and stir in the nut milk, but do not boil. Heat gently until hot and thick. Serve with crusty bread or crackers.

Yum!

Roasted Garlic Pizza

2011-11-09T12:07:00.000-08:00

So I've been trying to cut back on eating out all of the time and have, as a result, had to increase my "go-to" recipe base for easy quick meals. You have to understand that I am a baker - not a cook. HUGE difference. I can make a muffin recipe or create a cake from memory and can split recipes (scary fractions!) in my head pretty easily. But when it comes to making the savory dinner, I struggle. I can follow a recipe with the best of 'em, but I don't have a large base of recipes that I can just pull together quickly like my amazing mother can. So, in an attempt to become better at this, I came up with the following easy pizza recipe that was AWESOME! So yummy, and (if you are counting calories) only 300/ pizza. If you could find Naan bread with less calories, that would drop it even further. So here it is!

I started off the day by roasting 3 full heads of garlic. I didn't end up using all of it, but it's nice to have in the fridge, and I will probably be adding it to a stir fry either tonight or tomorrow. For those of you who fear garlic, if you roast the garlic, the reaction that makes that really strong garlic breath is diminished greatly. Don't fear the garlic! Its super good for you :)

Preheat the oven to 400F and cut the tops off 3 heads of garlic. Take 1 teaspoon of olive oil and drizzle over the 3 heads. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Place them in a small oven safe skillet or casserole dish. Mine went in a small pyrex casserole. Add just enough vegetable broth to cover the bottom of the dish, then place in the oven for 1 hour, uncovered. They should look something like this when you put them into the oven...

Roast for 1 hour and then set aside to cool completely. Your house will smell of garlic, but I'm Italian, so I love it :D

For the pizza base, I used Trader Joes garlic Naan bread. Naan is a great alternative to the typical pizza crust. It has a mild and sweet flavor, and comes in a "personal pizza" size that is perfect for this recipe. If you have sensitivities (or are allergic) to wheat, like my dad, I use the Udi's frozen pizza crust. They are great and you can find them in your grocer's freezer.

I add about 2 Tbs of pizza sauce to the top of the bread, then add several cloves of roasted garlic, spreading them out over the top of the sauce. They will squeeze out easily from the head, or you can pop them out with a knife. I then add slices of fresh tomatoes over the top of the pizza, as well as torn fresh basil leaves. I top each "pie" with 1/4c shredded cheese (I used a mozzarella/parmesan blend - but if you are not doing dairy, I would have added a bit more pizza sauce.) Ed added some deli sliced turkey that he tore up to his as well. You can really get as creative as you want with these.

Bake at 350F for about 10-15 minutes, just until they edges get golden brown. Allow to cool a bit, and then slice into four pieces. Yum!

Fleet Week!

2011-10-10T08:22:00.000-07:00

It's Fleet week in San Francisco this week, and since it is the centennial of naval flight, the air shows were pretty amazing! Blue Angels, F15 demonstration team, the Canadian Snow Geese , Osprey's and more! We headed out onto the Bay over near Angel Island with our friends Robb and AnneMarie aboard their 45 foot Catamaran, the Triton. Below are some of my favorite photos from the parade of battle ships as they entered the San Francisco Bay.

This last photo is the San Francisco Fire Department's Fire Boat, Phoenix.

Lots of fun out on the water. Next time I need to remember my larger camera and a polarizing lens!!

Low- Sugar Raspberry Jam

2011-09-29T15:13:00.000-07:00

Its that time of year again! Berry Season....Yum!

Now that I have a kitchen with plenty of space, I have been canning different items this summer. We did pickles, blackberry jam and now (my personal favorite) Raspberry Jam! I should, however, note that I did this entire process with Rachel strapped into the baby-bjorn on my chest. Take that Martha Stewart!

My recipe is more of an art than it is a science. I use two pints (or two cups) of fresh berries, to one cup of sugar. This is not a low sugar recipe in that it does use sugar, however, compared to most berry jam recipes, this is extremely low. I also prefer this version because you can really taste the flavor of the berry and it isn't overpowered by the sweetness from the sugar.

I use a large stockpot and pick through the berries before putting them in - bugs = eww. Once the berries are in the pot I add the sugar and start mashing everything together with a potato masher. The alternative way to doing this is to start in the morning by adding the berries and sugar to the pot and then placing it in a nice sunny window. The heat from the sun will, throughout the day, cause the berries to fall apart. Just make sure that you mix it every so often.

I'm too impatient, so I go with the former technique. :)

Place berries in pot:

You don't have to make sure that they are all evenly mashed - just a good squishing will do. They will cook down and most of the lumpy berries will fall apart later on.

Add the sugar:

Cook on medium low until you reach a nice "rolling boil" - if you decide to crank up the heat and start out on high, you will have a foaming spillover of epic proportions all over your stove and burners. Have fun with that one! Medium low, my friends. Medium low.

Stir the berries every so often and skim off the foam. It doesn't change the flavor if you leave the foam on there, but its more of a "pretty" jam if you take the time to do it.

While the berries are boiling, I run the jars through the dishwasher on the sanitize setting. I used to wash all of them by hand but its a pain in the ass, and this way hasn't killed me (or anyone I know) yet. But its your call -

Set the hot jars out on a try to collect the spills when you are ready to fill them, and start boiling the lids.

You will know when the jam is ready (I used 10 cups of berries and 5 cups of sugar, boiling for about 25 minutes) because the jam will run thick off the back of a clean spoon. When you check it earlier, it will run off like a thin liquid on the spoon. Now its time to fill those jars!

I leave between 1/4 and 1/2 inch space between the jam and the top of the jar. If you leave too much room, it doesn't look as pretty :) If you have some jam left that won't fill a jar completely, then you can use that jar for yourself right away. I almost always have a half filled jar, so we start with that one....yum! You also don't have to process, or boil, that last jar, as you will be putting it in the fridge as soon as it cools.

Now that your jars are filled with jam, place the lids on the top and gently screw the rings around the top of the jar. Don't tighten them completely until after they have cooled. You will be placing these jars into a pan of boiling water (try to have 2 inches of water above the lids) for about 10 minutes. This is called processing (or as I like to call it - the anti-botchilism phase). People skip this process and have no issues, and in all honesty, I don't process my pickles. Anything else gets a water bath. I'm paranoid.

Now you have yummy jam for the foreseeable future!!

Some people prefer their jam to be seedless, and thats fine. It just takes an extra step prior to boiling, but basically you push the fruit through a strainer to remove the seeds. Tastes the same, but I like the way the seeded jam looks and the seeds don't bother me.

You can also make this jam "sugar free" using agave. Technically it is not sugar free, but agave doesn't affect your glycemic index like regular sugar does. It also doesn't keep as long on the shelf. So if you are making a small batch, this is the way I would go. For all larger batches I use real sugar. It keeps on the shelf up to two years. The recipes are below. Enjoy!

Low-Sugar Raspberry Jam - Makes 9 8oz jars

10 cups fresh raspberries

5 cups sugar

Agave syrup Raspberry Jam

10 cups fresh raspberries

4-5 cups agave syrup (depending on how sweet you want it)

Bring to a boil over medium low heat and strain off any foam. Boil approximately 25 minutes and then ladle hot jam into hot jars. Cover with lids and process for 10 minutes. Leave jars undisturbed over night or for 12 hours. If any lids have not sealed, move to the fridge.

Vermont

2011-09-18T22:19:00.000-07:00

Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont & Massachusetts

After a crazy few weeks of family health drama, we (Ed, Rachel, and myself) flew back to Boston for a week long trip through New England. Originally my parents were going to be joining us, but my dad had some unexpected medical problems (also known as a stroke) and they were not able to make the trip. Thankfully, he is doing just fine and has no real deficits from the episode, but has one hell of a scar on the side of his neck from where they sliced open his carotid artery (sorry, is that too graphic? I can't tell anymore - too much trauma and gore working in this valley!) and cleaned out all of the plaque. It's genetic - yay!

We flew Virgin America from San Francisco to Boston (love!) and drove up to Portsmouth, NH to stay the night with some family friends. The next day we made our way across to Stowe, Vermont (close to the Canadian border) and spent 5 days enjoying the Austrian-esque hills and fresh mountain air. Rachel really loved all of the hikes and we had a blast wandering around the Trapp Family Lodge's multitude of trails through the forests.

"The hills are alive...."

A little fall foliage :)

We used to come here from the time I was 1 until around 12 years old. Every year my mom would make Stewart and I sit on these steps for a photo. I'm keeping the torture alive!

One of the hiking trails leads to this small chapel on the hillside that Johannes Von Trapp built when he returned from war. Don't ask me which war; I don't remember. I do, however, remember that hiking at altitude when you are anemic makes you feel like you are 130 years old. Just so you know!

Oh yeah - and randomly on this hike, Rachel decided she was going to suck her thumb. And now whenever she is tired it's her go-to soother. No more pacifiers for this kid! We should have known, as we have an ultrasound photo of her doing this when she was 20 weeks. Haha :)

---

Our next adventure took us down I-91 to Amherst and South Hadley Massachusetts to visit my Alma matter, Mount Holyoke College! It was fun being back after 8 years, and to see all of the changes that have taken place. My old radio station WMHC is still there!

But I was a little sad to see no one spinning...

Rachel and I on the green in front of Rockefeller Hall. Go Lyons! Yes, I totally bought her a sweatshirt.

Pumpkins at Atkins Farms .... mmm cider donuts. I miss them.

And just to end on an extra happy note - we visited Ben & Jerry's! Rachel is Jerry.

She is such a trooper to put up with my shenanigans :)

I bought the Trapp Family cookbook while I was up there because I am obsessed with Linzhertorte. The only problem is that they make them with walnuts, which I am allergic to. I'm going to attempt to make one with hazelnuts.

I'll let you know how it turns out!

Call me crazy, but I'm a prepper..

2011-09-01T18:43:00.000-07:00

I've always liked to have a stash of canned food around, extra water bottles, and anything that I might need to be without power for several days. Maybe its because I was born and lived in Maine until I was 10 - we had hurricane's like irene almost every fall. In fact, I remember filling the bathtub and buckets with water, and cooking on the coal stove on several occasions. Maybe I get it from my mother, who is notorious for being over prepared.

Either way you put it, I like to be prepared for being on my own and not relying on a failing and over stretched emergency relief system that most people will place all of their hopes on. When you look at the FEMA website (or Red Cross, for that matter), they have told us for years to be prepared to be on our own without assistance for 7-10 days. Ever since Katrina, that number has increased to 3 weeks.

Yep, you read it. 3 weeks.

Are you ready to be on your own for 3 weeks without power, running water, electricity, sewer systems, or a fridge full of food? Most of the people I know would say no. And I have to admit, that I am not 100% prepared for that length either. However, living in the bay area means that a large earthquake could happen at any time, and now that I have Rachel, I have no excuse for her to be without everything she would need.

So this past week, I finally got off my butt and put her "go-bag" together. A "go-bag" is, in our case, a backpack that holds the following list of items in case we need to leave home in an emergency without time to plan:

Diapers (10-20 disposable in a ziplock bag)
Cloth Diapers (10 and 2 diaper covers)
1 large package of wipes
cloth wipes of a pack of wash cloths

3 onesies
2 pants
4 pair socks
2 hats
1 towel
2 blankets

Baby Tylenol/Motrin
Thermometer
Desitin (diaper rash cream)
baby powder (or cornstarch)
soap
gas drops
nail clippers
nasal aspirator
bandaids
neosporin

trash bags
water
formula

For myself in the same bag:

two t-shirts
3 pair underwear
4 pair socks
sweat pants
shorts

deoderant (no need to be smelly!)
tooth brush/paste
moisturizer
sunscreen
flip flops

flashlight
whistle
pocket knife
local area maps
water
tylenol/motrin
feminine products

In an emergency, Rachel would go into our hiking pack on my back and the backpack on my front. This would be if I was alone - let's hope that isn't the case!!!!

I hate to say I'm a "dooms day-er" but the reality is that everyone in this country relies on the government and its agencies to come to our rescue over everything. I'd rather rely on myself. They have a bad track record.

So there it is. My basic "go-bag" for an emergency. Not to say that I'm planning on one happening soon, but I'd rather be prepared and have it not happen than vice versa.

So get ready to be on your own!!

This is a total side note - all I see on the news over the past week is the devastation of hurricane Irene and how people are mad at the government because it has been 5 days now that they are without power. Did you know that the worst famine in human history is going on around the horn of Africa and has been for the past year? And that over 29,000 people have died this year alone? Kinda makes 5 days without electricity seem silly to complain about, huh?

Hot days & Cool nights

2011-08-29T22:38:00.000-07:00

So summer finally decided to arrive here in northern california. We've had weeks of sunny days in the 70's and then one morning mother nature woke up and realized its the end of august and BAM! 96 outside. Mind you, this was the day that Ed and I decided to load Rachel up in the stroller and walk 2 miles to a Starbucks only to have to walk back in the heat... without sunscreen... Have I mentioned my serious lack of tanning abilities? Well, now I'm lobster red! At least I'm changing it up, right?? :)

Rachel didn't care. She was stoked!

Almost 4 months!

That's one happy baby! Probably because the house smells like Texas Sheet Cake..... more on that tomorrow! Mmmmm chocolate....

It's Never Too Early...

2011-08-20T12:12:00.000-07:00

On a recent trip back from Oregon we spent the night in Medford at a hotel to break up the 600 mile trip home with Rachel. She really is a trouper when it comes to Ed and I dragging her around all the time. This kid will be a traveling pro by the time she is one year old!

The best part of staying at the hotel was the indoor pool, as Rachel loves (I mean LOVES) the water. Bath time is never long enough for this kid, and she even likes having her hair washed. In fact, during a few episodes of growth spurts, she has had 4 or 5 baths a day just to calm her down and relieve us from a cranky baby! I can't wait for her to be old enough for swimming lessons, as I know she will really enjoy them. And as a medic who has been to a lot of drownings (in Pools no less...) I can never stress the importance of teaching your kids (and yourself!!!) how to swim.

The water was a little chilly for her, and the bathing suit a bit tight (it was $4 at Fred Meyer - we were lucky to even find one this late in the summer!), but she didn't complain and seemed to have fun with Dad in the pool...

She has the best facial expressions! Of course, I'm totally biased...

I love this photo of her all wrapped up :)

The next day we made our way back down I-5 and decide to stop at a park in Mt. Shasta City to see the Headwaters of the Sacramento River, which a fellow blogger had described recently. Check out his blog - www.exploringnorcal.com. We had a lot of fun just relaxing at this little park, and it really is right off of I-5. The waters come straight from under these large rocks against the hillside and are the beginning waters from mountain snow run off that make up the Sacramento river. Lots of people (hippies) were collecting water there in large containers, but I was able to sneak a few shots without dreadlocks or butt cracks!

Rachel was talking to the water. Or telling the hippies that they smelled. You pick!

All in all it was a decent trip, and she did great. It's nice to be back home after an impromptu trip and we are looking forward to seeing how she does on an airplane when we head to Vermont here in the near further. God help us... :D

Don't Drink and Ride... Your Bike.

2011-08-19T22:32:00.000-07:00

One evening, while working in the city, my EMT K and I sat eating our dinner when a call came out for a "fall injury" not far down the street from our station. K and I maneuvered the streets and arrived on scene just as Fire were pulling their med-bags out of their engine. As we climbed out of our ambulance, I noticed a hispanic man sitting down in a nearby driveway with obvious facial injuries. One of the fire medic's was holding c-spine so that the patient wouldn't move his head while they did their assessment and located all of the injuries.

The medic looks up at me as I walk over with a backboard and straps (assuming that this guy is about to be strapped to my board doesn't take rocket science) and as we make eye contact he says:

"Hey, you speak spanish right??" with a bit of urgency in his voice. I laugh assuming he is joking.

He's dead serious.

This would be a good time to state the obvious for those that know me, and paint the picture for those that do not.

1. I am irish/scottish/italian/french/danish/english and possibly welsh. Might as well throw that last part of the UK in there, right?

2. I am PASTY white. Sun = burn.

3. I took french through my first 4 years of elementary school and all 4 years of high school. And 1 year of college. I was born in New Hampshire. There used to be a WHOLE lot more french speakin' going on. Less spanish. Don't judge me.

4. My spanish is comical. I can ask you if you have chest pain, difficulty breathing, a headache, your age, and if you have a driver license. Oh yeah, and for a beer.

5. I have blond hair. Im not sure how this one fits in, but I feel like it does in some way. So I'm going with it.

What part of ME makes this dude think I speak anything other than english competently??? And sometimes that is even questionable. Just sayin.

This medic is seriously irritated by what I now see is a severely intoxicated spanish speaking (only) patient. I can usually handle my own with the spanish speaking community (i.e. they usually have a family member that can translate), but don't be expecting any conversational skills on my part.

K comes over with our gurney just in time to enjoy the medic attempting to communicate with his drunk patient.

"Sir, do you have any pain-o? Any trouble-o breathing-o?" he asks.

K and I are struggling to keep it together at this point. I can't even look at her. I squat down in front of the patient and introduce myself with as little a gringo accent as I can manage -

"Hola, mi amo Diana. Soy paramedica." He smiles and nods.

After a few medical questions, we are able to determine that the man had been riding his bicycle home after "several" beers when he had lost his balance and had a painful introduction to the sidewalk. He was sporting a broken nose and a split lip, but over all he was still in one piece.

The medic walked the patient to the ambulance (I would like to note that this was against my strong want of immobilizing this patient to a backboard due to the fact that he is a) intoxicated and b) did a face plant into the concrete sidewalk. But what do I know?) The medic assists him climb into the back of the rig, and K climbs in to help. I close the doors and make my way to the driver seat, waving at the engine to signal that we are headed to the ER.

A few blocks down the street, I can't help but chuckle listening to the communication in the back of the ambulance. The medic is yelling at the patient trying to get him to sit still. "No move-ay!!!" keeps echoing through the ambulance. I turn and look in back when we pull to a red light. "Hey K, try 'No te muevas" (don't move). The medic leans into view, pushing K back. "I asked you if you knew spanish, not if you could recite the damn dictionary!" He's having a rough night, and we have never gotten along, so why start now? I know I know! Grow up, right? Maybe next week :)

Arriving at the ER, I walk to the back of the ambulance where the captain from the engine is standing and waiting for me to open the door. Because he can't, apparently, do it himself. I open the door to see K bantering with the drunk patient. She starts to climb out when the Captain joking asks "What's going on in there??" K smiles; "Do you like it when people order you around when you're drunk??" she says with a smile. Completely out of character (and left field), the Captain replies with: "Actually yes. I do." And smiles while he walks away.

Oh lordy.

K turns to look at me and we both burst out laughing. "What?!" he says with a grin.
"No comment!!" K and I reply simultaneously, avoiding eye contact.

We wheel drunk guy into the ER, and the tech (Miss M) greets us with a "what happened to this guy??"

K smiles as I reply: "Don't drink and ride... your bike."

Vegan...but not really

2011-08-18T12:38:00.000-07:00

I gave up milk and most dairy products during my pregnancy after I developed gestational diabetes around week 30. After doing a lot of research, and meeting with a fantastic nutritionist and doctor (The Hansen's at the Emerald Valley Wellness Clinic) I decided to give the "no dairy" deal a try. Why? Because its full of sugar. Yes, even the fat free stuff! Milk is really not great for you. Seriously. No matter which way you try to make it look good -

"It has lots of protein!"
"It is low carb!"
"Its full of calcium!"

But the truth of the story is that you wouldn't drink pig's milk. Or dog's milk. And most adults would cringe at the thought of even drinking human breast milk! But the fact of the matter, is that milk a hormone delivery system. It's designed with lots of saturated fat, cholesterol and lactase (sugar!) that are species specific for nurturing babies. Ever wonder why most doctors tell you to give up dairy first when you start to complain about tummy problems or allergies. Cows milk is the loving cause of many problems that you wouldn't even associate with food -

ear infections
skin rashes
IBS

There are tons of books, articles, and research out there proving that dairy is not essential to human health. It's not to say that you are "killing yourself" by eating them. But know the facts and then decide! The nutrition diva, Monica Reinagel, M.S., L.D./N, said it best in one of her articles:

"Frankly, I can’t make a case for dairy being essential to a healthy diet. I think the fact that dairy products are considered as a separate food group instead of being lumped together with other animal products has less to do with their special nutritional advantages and more to do with the fact that the dairy lobby has spent a lot of money to influence public health and nutrition policy.

There are plenty of other ways to get protein, calcium, and vitamin D. So, if you don’t care for dairy or you feel that the cons outweigh the pros, I see no reason for you to eat it as long as you have your nutritional bases covered.

But I’m not ready to insist that everyone swear off dairy, either. If you like dairy products, and you tolerate them, I think that you can enjoy them in good health, as long as you consume them in moderation..."

(http://nutritiondiva.quickanddirtytips.com/is-milk-bad.aspx)

So next time you pick up a glass of that yummy cold cow's milk, think about that! And then make these scones instead:

Lemon Scones

(makes 12 scones)

1 cup almond milk (or other non-dairy milk of your choice)
2 teaspoons apple cider vinegar
1/4 cup lemon juice
zest of 1 lemon
3 cups flour
2 Tablespoons baking powder
1/2 cup sugar, plus extra for sprinkling
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup non hydrogenated shortening (or margarine)
2 Tablespoons canola oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 375F

Lightly grease a baking sheet or line with parchment paper. Measure milk and add vinegar to it, then set aside so it can curdle.

Mix together flour, sugar, salt, baking powder, and lemon zest. Add to this, the shortening and combine until it looks like coarse sand. (I do this in a food processor... yep, the whole recipe. Call me lazy, but I don't like loosing half the dough to my fingers. Its sticky, ok?!)

Add the milk mixture, lemon juice, oil and vanilla until the batter is just moistened. You don't have to add all of the wet ingredients. A couple of dry spots is just fine.

Using a 1/4 cup, scoop up the batter and place on the sheet. I make mine round. Some people like triangles. Whatever floats your boat.

Sprinkle tops with a bit more sugar, and then bake for 18-22 minutes, until the tops are firm and lightly browned. Yum!

The Monastery

2011-08-06T20:41:00.000-07:00

At 1930 hours a call comes through out of our zone for a "diabetic problem" at a local monastery. C, my full time partner at this juncture of my career, and I dismiss the call as another "cars" zone. You can imagine our surprise when the phone rang in our small shack of a station requesting we respond to the call.

C jumps in the drivers seat and I climb in the other side, map in hand. We turn on the lights and head for the main road with only half a clue as to where we are headed. We turn south and I cue up dispatch:

"Can you repeat the road please?" I ask politely.

Dispatch comes back with the name and I set the mapbook down on my lap and sigh. Loudly, apparently.

C looks over at me. "Whats wrong?" he asks.

"You know where we are headed?" I ask. He shakes his head. "Well, me either, and the road isn't in our fantastically outdated mapbook."

He starts laughing, which, in this situation is fairly normal. As it happens often.

We head south to the cross street dispatch was able to provide us, and by sheer miracle find the street (or privately named driveway) and arrive on scene.

A volunteer from the local department meets us at the bottom of an exorbitant amount of steps leading up to the top floor of a picturesque monastery. The guy who invented stairs (as opposed to ramps) is an asshole. My arms hurt just looking at this endeavor.

"There is a small elevator, but the gurney wont fit" he says. Almost apologetically.

We grab our bags and climb the stairs leaving the gurney at the bottom.

Outside the patient's room is an EMT from CalFire who's name I never remember but I see often. He smiles and laughs. "I hope that laugh is because you're happy to see me!" I say with a smile. "I knew it was you" he says with a grin. "We have an 81 year old male, altered and unresponsive. He is a diabetic and hasn't eaten since breakfast as he is (get this) fasting. Looks like he was trying to get some OJ on board before he went down and one of the other Father's found him." I smile and say thank you. My real thoughts? -

Fasting. REALLY?!? Maybe God could let this "not eating" deal slide since you're, ya know, a DIABETIC. I'm sure he is aware.

Inside the room I find and 81 year old Irish Priest sitting in a wheel chair, altered and unconscious. I ask one of the EMT's for a blood pressure while I grab my blood sugar monitor. CalFire guy is still assessing the stair situation and I hear him chime in behind me -

"Do you want the rescue seat? I'm not sure if we can get the gurney up here and around the corner" he says.

I look at the patient, about 300 lbs limp in a wheel chair.

"How about we just wheel him to the elevator and get him down that way?" I suggest.

CalFire guy smiles. "I hate it when you're smart" he says, shaking his head.

During our assessment the patients sugar level comes back as 40. That's pretty low, but considering his lack of eating today, this situation probably should have happened sooner. I start looking at the patients hand and forearm for veins to start an IV and I ask C to go ahead and set up an IV bag for me and get an amp of D50 out. Standard procedure for such a call. C chimes in from behind me -

"Hey D, you sure you want D50 over Oral Glucose?" he asks.

C is in paramedic school (didactic - or classroom portion of the program) and, in an attempt to learn, I find him asking lots of questions at seriously inappropriate junctures. When I'm treating the patient is not the best time to ask me "why" or "whats wrong" - we learn after the call. When the entire room of guys isn't staring at the back of my head wondering if this blond knows what she's doing.

Without turning to C, who is behind me, I politely say "no" to his suggestion and move on. I start the IV and start to advance in the D50, when C decides its question time again. "Hey D, did you remember to draw back to make sure that you were in the vein?"

C is going to be one of two types of "scary" medics. The first type is the kind that is super nervous and gets everyone else on the call "amped up" because he can't seem to calm down. The best advice I received during my training was from my good friend and preceptor, who told me that "the medic runs the pace and tone of the call. If the medic is worked up and flustered, then everyone else will be too." To this day as I walk into a patients house, or arrive on scene of an incident, I hear those words and take a deep breath.

The second type is just a moron medic that no ones trusts and everyone expects to screw up. Lets hope he is the former.

I'm kneeling next to my patient pushing the D50 into his vein. The consistancy of molasses, it can take a minute or two for any effect to take place. I can feel everyones eyes (CalFire guy, his engineer, 2 firefighters and 3 volunteers) staring at the back of my head, (let's hope its my head), and as one of only 2 female medics in this county; I already stand out. C's good intentions look more like a lack of faith in my ability to work as a medic. As if I don't stand out enough already.

I look up at C. "Dude. This isn't my first rodeo." I say, hoping he gets it and moves on. He gets flustered. "Im sorry, Im just trying to learn. Ive never seen it pushed before."

Uh what?! C has been an EMT for over 2 years. I push this drug once a WEEK!

I finish giving the med, and as the patient begins to "wake up" from his fasting-induced sleep, we have a long discussion about my family's irish heritage before he allows us to leave. We pack up our gear and say our thanks to fire for their help and head down to the ambulance.

Silence fills the cab as we head back to our station.

"Sorry," C says. "I didn't mean to be rude."

I look at him and smile.

Tomorrow we will do this all again.

What's the secret??

2011-08-06T15:58:00.000-07:00

Your skin is your largest organ.

I remember my paramedic instructor thinking that he had me stumped when he asked that question, assuming answers would include liver or lungs. Perhaps even brain. But no - the largest organ is easily the most abused. Your skin breathes. It regulates hydration, and heat. When you think about it, it's pretty incredible.

I've been fortunate enough to have escaped any major skin problems throughout my life, aside from a little "pre-cancer"from years of sunburn abuse. That's what happens when you're a level 10 on the pasty white scale. So imagine my surprise when I became pregnant (or after I had Rachel) and my face looked like a 14 year old had beaten me with the ugly acne stick. Yay hormones! And yet, while you're pregnant and nursing, there are so many skin care products that you aren't allowed to use for fear of transference to the baby. So I tried the fruity hippie stuff, and the expensive organic things and found that it was more a matter of understanding what your skin is trying to do, rather than fighting it.

We spend hundreds of dollars each year (well, us women do anyway!) trying to cleanse/hydrate/minimize/highlight - you name it - to our skin. We basically wage a war against our skin trying to force it to do what we want. And the truth of the matter? It just wants to be balanced and happy too.

So when my friends and family started asking what my secret was, imagine the looks on their faces when I said "I cleanse my face with oil."

Enter my 11th grade chemistry class.

Like dissolves like. Oils dissolve oil. We strip our skin with soaps and then slather creams on to replace the hydration that our skin was trying to achieve by creating all that oil. So it would make sense then, that oils would dissolve the oil on our face as well without stripping them. This is called the Oil Cleansing Method, and there are many websites that cater to explaining it further. But essentially I clean my face with coconut oil.

I stood in front of the mirror that night with oil in hand and a skeptical look on my face as I slathered it on. I took the hot washcloth and gently rubbed my face fearing that I had just made a situation that was annoying even worse. I couldn't even look. I just kept gently washing my face with the cloth and wringing it out in the sink. My cat stared up at me from the floor wondering what the hell I was up to. I finished and gathered the courage to look in the mirror.

Holy crap.

My skin had never looked so clean! This crap even takes off mascara!!! (for you guys out there, this is a constant fight).

And after I finished I used a small amount as a moisturizer. And there it is. My skin care secret found in a jar in the salad dressing isle. Coconut oil. No more breakouts. No more dry/oily skin. Just a happy organ.

I just blew your mind, huh? :)

2011-07-30T12:02:00.000-07:00

Big Lagoon Camping Trip

Just north of Trinidad on the Humboldt coast is a small no-reservation campground called "Big Lagoon County Park." With only 18 spots it fills up quickly, but if you can get up there early enough it is well worth the trip. This was Rachel's first camping excursion, and my third (successful, I might add) trip. Who doesn't love hearing the waves all night as you are lulled to sleep in your tent? Well, me, when I have to get up at 3am to trek out to the bathrooms. Mind you, all I could think about on that 1/8 mile hike was the sign at the entrance that stated "Bears sighted recently" and I was expecting one to jump from the deafeningly quiet bushes at any second. Surviving my trek, and making it back inside the tent with a few advanced maneuvers so as to not wake Rachel, all was well again. We had a great time, and the site could only have been better if we had been able to get a site right on the edge of the Lagoon. Rachel will love it here when she gets older - warm, calm waters, plenty of sand and sun.

Rachel in her hiking pack. She was so excited! This kid loves being outside.

On our trip back home after two days of "roughing it" we had the opportunity to see CalFire working a hillside fire along hwy 101 just north of Laytonville. Even after all these years volunteering and working in EMS, this was the first time I had ever seen a fire retardant drop in person. SO COOL!!

As great as it always is to escape and just relax for a while, it is always nice to return home. Of course, if the laundry, dishes, bathrooms and kitchen could just learn to clean themselves, it would be even nicer :)

If you're allergic to strawberries...

2011-07-26T15:57:00.000-07:00

April 2009

Around 10am a call comes across the radio for a possible allergic reaction. "Possible" due to the fact that 90% of the time allergic reactions are panic attacks in disguise, and my skills as a counselor (of which I have field training only) come into play.

I was working in the city that day which meant that not only would I not be the only medic on the call, but that I would be playing back seat to the fire department medics, who make it their business to make sure you know your place (behind them). I would not be running this show in the city, but in the county it was a different story.

My partner was K, an EMT for a little over a year, who never questioned my decisions and could quite possibly read my mind on calls. We had become fast friends after I started at the ambulance company in July of 2008, and as a result, no longer needed words on calls. A single look could tell me what was going on in her head. She was a good EMT, and a great partner.

Arriving on scene, I backed the ambulance up the ridiculously steep driveway lined with raised flower beds. Leaving the engine running, we pull the gurney from the back of the box and make our way to the front door.

Stairs.
2 sets before you get to the entry. Damn.

I look at K, who is preparing to lift the gurney and carry it inside with all of our crap piled on top of it.

"Leave it here." I said. "Let's see what's going on before we attempt this."

Walking thru the front door, I see one of the medics from the engine crew talking to a female in her mid thirties clutching her stomach. I walk up to them to assess the situations severity. The woman is calm, slightly flushed and very dramatic. "Can she walk?" I ask politely, trying not to show my "do you REALLY need an ambulance lady???" sarcasm come through. I failed.

"She can walk," he says to me, struggling to hide his smile.

He helps the woman stand and walk to the gurney, while she recites a chorus of "ouch ouch owwy owwy ouch oh oh oh" the whole way. All 10 feet. I take a good look at her, noting her blotchy and diaphorhetic skin. Her abdomen covered in quarter sized welts, and her hands and arms shaking.

In EMS we have "big sick" and "little sick"; the former describing a patient that requires treatment asap and a rapid transport. The latter? Hand holding and a therapist.

This was "big sick" with the potential to go down hill rapidly depending on how the engine medic responded to it.

Loading the woman into the back of the ambulance I finally had the chance to ask what no one seemed to be sharing -

"So whats going on?" I say casually.

"I have a pretty strong allergy to strawberries," she says. "I hadn't had them in a while so I decided to have some today. With strawberry yogurt."

Well shoot. Go big or go home, right?

I look up and my eyes meet K's. She rolls her eyes and I can't help but struggle to hold back a laugh that comes out like some form of retarded cough. I'm sure her confidence in us was high.

"Really," I said "maybe you should avoid that from here on out."

She tilts her head to the side and gives me a long look up and down. "I'm not stupid ya know - I'm a nurse."

She rolls onto her side away from me so as to avoid further questioning. This is just too easy. Thank god this isn't my call, I can barely contain myself.

I climb out of the back of the ambulance and face K and the engine medic as they are about to climb inside. "I guess they don't teach about food allergies in nursing school. Have fun with that one!" The medic laughs and shakes his head as he climbs up into the back of the ambulance with K, already ahead of him, flooding an IV bag.

I climb into the drivers seat and smile as I let dispatch know that we are en route to the hospital. I hear the medic in the back discussing medications and treatment with K. He's a good medic, one of the few I trust in this town, and I've never second guessed him. He asks K to pass him an 18 gauge IV needle. A standard size, nothing fancy. The patient chimes in -

"You don't need one that big!! You can use a 22. And use a butterfly!"

The medic politely explains that unless you're a pediatric patients, you're getting a size 20 or larger. A 22 is very small and relatively useless for emergency care. You might as well not bother. And as far as the butterfly needle goes - they are the same size as the regular needles. It's mind blowing, I know. Didn't she say she was a nurse?!

After about a 10 minute drive we arrive at the ER. I climb out and walk around to the back and open the doors. The medic is just attempting to start the IV. The patient, still being difficult, has made him start to second guess himself and he looks up at me, exasperated. He is holding a 20 gauge needle in his hand. I reach up and hand him an 18. He looks so frustrated.

As K distracts her, I gently say "if you can fit a 20, then you can fit an 18. Plus, she's hypotensive and could use the extra fluid." He smiles back at me and guides the needle into her left arm with ease.

Flash. Advance. Done.

First try.

We unload the patient, and, as well roll the gurney through the ER doors, her chorus of "oh oh ouch ouch" turns into "ohhhh why meee??"

I look at K across the gurney and we both smile. K looks at her. "Don't eat things you're allergic to."

The Adventure Begins

2011-07-25T16:46:00.000-07:00

All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy.

No man does. That's his.

~Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest, 1895

This is my adventure. My new chapter.

At 26 I became a paramedic.

A career I had dreamt of entering from the time I was 7 and fell off the swings during recess in the first grade. I landed on my head (which probably is where my delusions of working in medicine started) and had a stabbing pain when I tried to turn my neck. As Neil, the boy pushing me on the swing, was making fun of me - I faked being knocked out. I think that this is actually the first time that I have ever admitted that! But the events that followed, as is always the case in this life, changed me forever. That code 3 ride to the ER set in motion a series of events that would stick in the back of my mind forever, and still remind me why I love my career today. Career, mind you; not job.

As I lay on the stretcher, tucked snugly into the papoose, we rolled down the bouncy Berwick, Maine roads to the ER. A female paramedic - volunteer, as is much the case back east - tended to me and promised not to give me an IV. Wouldn't she be surprised to know that her care and enthusiasm sent that 7 year old down a path to follow in her foot steps? A thought that crosses my mind every time I care for a child to this day.

At 29 I became a mom.

Just one week prior to turning the "big 3-0" I entered a new world that has changed everything from the way I shower to the way I yell at crazy homeless people that wont leave me alone. And her name is Rachel.

Motherhood isn't just a new chapter. Its a complete life altering event that there is zero preparation for. Just when you have the nursery put together and you think that 2am heartburn are under control, this little person comes into the world and takes everything from you - mind, spirit, energy - and replaces it with the most incredible and selfless love for them that is utterly indescribable. I never knew how much my mother truly loved me until I had my daughter.

This blog is my outlet. A place to share life and stories from a past life, and to see what the future holds. I may not be an eloquent story teller, but I promise that these stories are true and the events are real. No matter how ridiculous or hysterical they may seem. :)