This is Not the Way I Wanted to Reboot This Blog

Content warning: language, dental work, mental health, injury, blood mention, illness, death, grieving.

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2017 has been a shit year.

I've typed one line and I'm already starting to cry. Again. Because I haven't cried enough this year, I guess.

In March, one of my best friends passed away suddenly from a fast-moving and aggressive cancer. Katie and I had been friends for 16 years, since her sister and I became friends in junior high school. Katie was the sweetest person I have ever known. She was an amazing artist, both on paper and in the kitchen, cooking, baking, and decorating cakes. She occasionally brought me boxes of homemade scones, cupcakes, and brownies during my overnight shifts. We tossed around ideas of opening a cafe/bakery together, in which she would make sweet treats and tea while I would make savory snacks and coffee. Unfortunately, that won't happen now.

Also in March, a man passed away at the hotel I was working at, while I was working. Seeing the paramedics, the police, the coroners, witnessing his family grieving and hearing his story all hit me really hard. I still wish I had done something more, even though I know it was just the natural result of his lifelong illnesses.

By summer, depression, anxiety, and generalized frustrations were taking their toll. I was pretty much fed up with my job. Without going into unnecessary details, I hit my "fuck it" point one night and called my manager in to relieve me at 1AM, and I put in my two weeks' notice. My manager told me they would cover my two weeks, so I didn't have to come back. That was nice on one hand because fuck that job, but on the other hand, that was a whole paycheck that would have been very useful to me.

The first week of August, my roommate kicked me out for no reason and with no notice. And I don't mean in the "I'm avoiding admitting a fuckup" meaning of "no reason." Again without going into unnecessarily personal detail, rather than wait and solve a minor issue when we can both talk rationally and not get caught up in our emotions, she told me to move out of her house immediately. Stress, hassle, and drama ensued. Thank God for my dad, who let me move back in with my two cats, and for the ironclad rental agreement I wrote when I moved in with my roommate, which prevented a lot of drama from spiraling out of control. In the end, stress, depression, and anxiety spiked, and I wasted time, energy, and gas money on a bullshit move when I should have been conserving it all for my job hunt. Whatever. Door closed for good. Moving on.

Finally, in the latter half of August, I had a great job interview at a local grocery store (anything for a paycheck at that point). I was also seeing a new dentist because years of no dental care, coffee, and energy drinks at work had taken a dramatic toll on my teeth. So before I started my new job, we wanted to get the hopeless teeth out and get going on a treatment plan. In one hour, my magical dentist got six teeth out and three fillings in. One tooth was being stubborn, so he sent me directly over to the oral surgeon's office.

Where I passed out.

Clearly my body was just done for the day. It didn't help that the massive amounts of stress of the preceding months had caused my chronic digestive disorder, ulcerative colitis, to flare up, causing fatigue, pain, and anemia. While standing to take a 360 x-ray, I passed out and hit my head on the floor. They sent me to the hospital next door, where it was determined I had passed out from my severe anemia, so they kept me for three days for treatment and observation. My head was fine, I just had headaches for a few days (also related to having six teeth yanked out of my skull) and my memory of that stay is a bit spotty.

This is where things start to come together as they relate to this blog. Bless you if you're still with me.

While in the hospital, I watched a TON of Food Network. I'm going to be honest, I'm a boring TV watcher. I mainly watch Food Network and HGTV. And Law & Order SVU because honestly who doesn't. I have an interest in food, because we need it to survive and the possibilities are endless. Also apparently I am a masochist and love to watch food I can't eat.

While in the hospital, I ordered a grilled cheese and tomato soup once I could keep food down. The tomato soup was... sweet. Ew. WTF. So I asked for some salt and pepper, and that DRASTICALLY changed the flavor. It kind of got the gears turning in my head. It was like in the movies when the scientist gets a breakthrough in his equations and there's a dramatic music montage while he builds his device to talk to the aliens.

Scene change to my new job. I was hired into the produce department of a grocery store, to not only work the floor but to cut and package fruits, vegetables, and cold side dishes and dips into ready-to-eat containers. There has been a running joke for years that I can't go near sharp objects without cutting myself, so cutting produce was a bit intimidating for me. But I'm stubborn (and broke).  (It actually was two days shy of two months employed there before I cut myself!  It was a doozy, took half an hour to stop bleeding, and is scarring, but I'm impressed I lasted that long.)

But the roller coaster isn't over yet. Here we go for Hospital Stay 2.0!

I love carbs. This is no secret. I'm half Sicilian, pasta is life. The produce section is right by the bakery section. The bakery section has a $5 sale table. I am weak-willed, even though I know that when I eat gluten, I blow up my Violet Beauregard. (I haven't done a proper gluten-sensitivity test but I did my own informal exclusion test and determined my UC does so much better when I don't eat gluten.)

So a month and a half into my new job, I was laid low by another severe UC flare for about a week, caused by caffeine and ridiculous amounts of delicious, gluteny baked goods. I regret the outcome but not the scones. Once I got to the point that I couldn't even drink water without severe abdominal spasms, I had my dad take me to the emergency room. Again my hemoglobin was low, I was dehydrated, and I got the usual gentle scolding for not seeing my doctor for proper management of my UC and anemia.

I was in the hospital for three more days. Three more days of Food Network. Three more days of poking and prodding. Three days of visits from my gastrointestinal specialist and his physician's assistant, who told me in no uncertain terms that while I had been trying to control my UC with my diet, UC is an autoimmune disorder and my body will attack my colon regardless of what I eat or don't eat. I have since begun proper treatment and am actually improving. I will not confirm nor deny continued gluten consumption.

When I got back to work after a week and a half out sick, I put my hours of Chopped to good use. My manager remarked on how fast I've gotten at cutting produce! I can fly through onions like it's nobody's business, thanks to tricks I learned watching Food Network. I've been able to help customers a lot more in answering questions and making suggestions. I can tell when a artichoke is overripe. I know which greens have which sorts of flavors. I can core a pineapple in 30 seconds flat.

Gears were clicking into place. I'm amassing the knowledge of food, nutrition, cooking, from streaming cooking shows, other recipe blogs, my job, and my doctors. I have to use that knowledge to take care of myself. I have to take my medicine. I have to watch what I eat, for real. The body is a machine that can only function as efficiently as the fuel I put into it. Fresh foods are accessible and not difficult to prepare. My lack of culinary training is not an insurmountable obstacle. I can DO this.

So I have decided to go to law school.

I'm only half kidding. I do want to go to law school eventually, but in the meantime, I want to learn to cook. For real. Reading recipes, watching cooking shows, maybe some classes, and trial and lots and lots of error of my own. I've cooked and baked a few things in recent weeks that have convinced me that I can make a decent effort at a food blog again, and better this time. Cooking is a practical skill that serves a natural need, and I'm only sorry it took 'til I was 30 to realize how pivotal a role food plays in life.

I've also signed up to volunteer at our local homeless shelter's soup kitchen. I was inspired by an episode of Chopped which featured cooks from shelters and soup kitchens. I have always wanted to volunteer, because helping people has always made me feel really good, but I wasn't sure where to focus. After that episode, and lot of Kleenex, I thought, I can do that! What better way to combine my love of charity with my desire to cultivate and use culinary skill? I found our local homeless shelter's website, applied online to volunteer, and the next day they called and scheduled me to start working in their kitchen one morning a week, and two in January. I am so excited to start.

Still with me? I can get a bit wordy. It's the Sicilian in me.

So my return to this blog will be a more serious look at cooking as I learn recipes, techniques, and all about health and nutrition. I will be sharing my experiences in the kitchen and out as they relate to my journey and education.

There will also be an emotional aspect to this blog. As my physical health has been improving, I have had the energy to look at my mental health as well. I suffer from depression, ADD, and anxiety, along with this year's unfathomable grief. As I think about my history with food and cooking, it dredges up a lot of issues that I never realized were connected.

So, I will eat my feelings and tie food, cooking, physical healing, and mental healing into one neat little package. Cooking is becoming cathartic to me.

So here we go. Deep breath. Food Blog, Take 2. This isn't the way I wanted to reboot this blog. But I need to, not only for recognition that I CAN cook, but to work through deeper issues. I admit, I have selfish reasons for blogging. But there are positive results I want to come from this: to share my progress and show people that regardless of your age, your past, your upbringing, your family or friends, your health, mental or physical, you can kick it all in the teeth and do what you want, learn what you want, because YOU decided to.

Maybe someday I will go to law school. Maybe I will still open a cafe. But even if this path leads only to cooking a healthy meal for just me, I will have accomplished something on my own, by myself, for myself, no one else.