Photo by husband Owen Rubin, whose main job now is to wait on me.
Hello Dear Blog Readers,
Thanks for sticking with me through some challenging times. I missed getting a blog post out recently due to moving to a new house for the first time in 26 years. We had two weeks. And then I broke my ankle by slipping on some gravel. Last week, during surgery, the doctor inserted a plate and six screws. Next week she takes the sutures out.
Now I have been immobile for weeks and will be this way for almost two months longer. That’s what I want to write to you about today: my inability to cook.
I figure that you, like me, love to get in the kitchen. How odd then, to not do so because it’s too hard logistically. I can hop in with my walker, but then it’s difficult to pick up things because I’d be letting go of my bar of metal. The worst thing I can do now is fall and damage the ankle further, the doctor said.
Then there’s the scooter. (I’ve got all the things, including crutches and a shower chair.) I can whiz into the kitchen on it, my knee on its seat. That’s quite fun. It’s slightly better than the walker because I don’t feel as tipsy. But I’m further from the counter. I can’t reach the plates and glasses easily, bend down far enough to put cutlery in the dishwasher or pick up a bowl or saucepan with confidence.
You’re probably thinking I could chop at the dining room table. Yes I could, but doing anything at the table is hard now because my foot is supposed to be elevated as much as possible. (Guests who eat with us have to tolerate my bandaged splint on a pillow on the table.)
So for now, others cook for me or bring me commercially-prepared food. Actualy the response from my community of friends and former students and clients has been mind-boggling. Almost every day, people bring meals, soups, restaurant orders, and leftovers. Three challahs have arrived, two homemade. A friend bought boxes of chicken pieces that need only be heated, with a tub of mashed potatoes made by her son. Another sent a giant frozen jar of chicken soup. Just right.
I’m full of gratitude and awe. I can’t get to my office to write thank you notes, because it’s up seven stairs, so I try to be profuse wth my thanks.
I do love seeing everyone and eating all kinds of tasty things. But I miss cooking. I miss the muscle memory of it. I miss making my own dishes, most of which are largely vegetables. (Vegetables have been a scarce part of the arriving foods, which surprised me.)
I’m also surprised by how much time I used to devote to shop, prep and cook. I didn’t notice the time sink until it all stopped. But I didn’t even think of it as a time sink. Mostly it was a pleasure to shop, prep, cook and bake. To page through cookbooks and decide what to make. To stroll through stores with a basket and consider the options. To rummage through the fridge and make a meal from odds and ends. To make pancakes for breakfast on the weekend just becuase I felt like it. What a privilege!
I’ll be back at it eventually, I know. You probably want to tell me to be patient. But for now, I’ll just wish you happy holidays. And tell you that I envy your time in the kitchen, whipping up meals, snacks, holiday cookies and whatever else you choose. Maybe you’d like to change places with me and get fussed over by friends like I have been. Yes, it’s fantastic! Just don’t break your ankle to get there.
— Dianne
You’ve also got the challenge of navigating a new house layout where your muscle memory cannot kick in. At least you can still look through books for inspiration for when you can get back in the kitchen. Best to a steady recovery.
Thank you Cameron. True about the layout — it’s kind of like staying in a vacation house where you don’t know where anything is. My cookbooks are all upstairs in my office. I can climb the steps on my bum but I can’t stay up there for long. No way to elevate the foot.
Dianne, as you may know, i had brain surgery in April. Then a day or two later, stroke. Ive not been able to cook anything. It makes me feel naked and afraid. I am with you in mind & spirit. Not cooking strips me of my independence.
Robert, I really feel for you. How awful. I have a friend who had brain surgery 3 years ago and she had a stroke too. Progress can be slow, but I hope it’s happening. Hang in there.
Dianne, I’m so sorry for this jarring experience, and the timing of it all — I’m glad you’re well cared for!
Robert, I understand. I’ve had two neurosurgeries this year, and two last year. And I’ve been mostly housebound for eight years now. If anyone needs coping strategies, hit me up! 🙂
I only shower once per week so I can use every scrap of my energy for cooking nutrient-dense food, and developing recipes, and I will let most anything go in order to hold onto that passion. I’m sending you both healing vibes, and wishing you the very best!
That’s lovely Rachel. I don’t think I could go that long without a shower but definitely I”m not working out, so that is something to consider — especially because California has been in a drought for 22 years.
Hey Rachel, this is interesting about 1 shower a week. I’m definitely not working out anymore and getting sweaty. I don’t know if I could last a whole week but maybe I could expand from every other day. Very good that you are still cooking! You’re inspiring me.
I have a tradition that started when a friend was going to be in a situation like yours for weeks. I followed her around and tried to find a solution to each challenge she faced. Her favorite was a three-pocket waiter’s apron that she could use to carry a travel mug, a small book, a notepad, or anything else that would fit in the pockets. Now I buy those by the dozen and give them as a get-well gift to anyone on crutches. I tell each they may keep it or pass it on to the next person who needs it.
OOh that sounds like a great solution, Penny. Thank you! I’ll have to see if I have an apron like that. When I was packing for my move, I discovered I had 8 aprons. A friend who was helping me said it was time to put a bunch in the giveaway stack.
Hi Diane — Sending you healing thoughts and wishes and my own hard-learned wisdom.
Relax. Elevate and ice. Take a deep breathe and focus on you. No need to make a deadline or make a cake. Healing is hard work, physically and emotionally. Pain and sleep disruption can affect so many things. Focus on your PT and getting well. This time will be over before you know it.
Be gentle with yourself, accept and appreciate the support you’re gifted, ask for whatever else you need (even/especially time alone) and keep on the PT schedule as it always makes a difference.
Very wise, Sue. I need to print this out and tape it to the bathroom mirror. Thank you.
Thank you for saying that, Dianne — and that’s a great idea. Positive messages always help me. And remember this is a short-term challenge and you’ll be back to walking and standing and cooking soon. When you can start to cook, keep a stool nearby so you can rest on it when needed. Just taking the weight off your foot for a minute will help.
And THANK YOU for your great advice that I’ve read for many years through your books and blog!
Oh, no!!! I hope you heal quickly and fully. Your new kitchen needs you.
Just a little publishing story. When I was finishing up my research in Portugal for the “New Portuguese Table,” I completely severed my Achilles tendon. By the time I got home several weeks later, I was rushed to surgery.
I had to be on one of those carts for months and months. So I understand not being able to maneuver well in the kitchen. I asked my publisher if they could push back the release of the book, and they said… No!
So, I had to sidle up sidewise to the counter and cook with that thing, shop with that thing. It was a monstrosity!
xo
D
Thank you, David. The new kitchen is lovely — a little busy, but that can be fixed, eventually.
I remember when that happened to you and how hard it was. Unbelievable that the publisher would not push back the pub date, but this is inspiring, to read that you cooked and shopped while on a scooter. These days we can get just about everything delivered, so that helps. And I have managed to make one or two things. Eventually my friends will tire of coming by with food and I will probably be back at the stove again.
Sigh… A small positive is that it’s winter. So you’re sorta stuck indoors when it’s chilly out and short daylight time. Be careful and safe.
Yes indeed, I would go nuts if this happened in summer. Excellent point, Rita! Thanks for providing that thought.
Oh Dianne. When I saw what happened my heart sank for you! Sounds painful. So much to do in a new house but you’ve got to just let it go until you are healed. I was there exactly 2 years ago. If I lived closer I would bring you lots of veggies, some out of my new garden.
I liked that you wrote about something personal. I’ve wondered about doing this. As I believe you’ve said before, people read you for you as well. I’m thinking about a post on my new garden and the joy it’s bringing me (as well as the best fresh salad greens). I’ve also wondered about writing about some really challenging health issues the last few years to help others going through them. It’s hard to know where to start.
Anyway, a broken ankle is no fun! The best thing you can do is rest and heal, but it’s so hard to be patient. Maybe you’ll do a post on the perils of cooking when you can’t. For those of us who love to cook, we feel for you! hugs.
Aww thanks Sally. Yes I have been doing tons of guest posts lately and saving my personal stuff for my newsletter, so this is a departure. But it was fun to write, it came out quickly, and I figured readers might like to hear from me directly for a change.
Definitely people do like to hear from the person behind the blog. This blog post stirred up a much bigger response than I/guest posters usually get. But hey, I don’t have news like this twice a month! (Thank goodness). Re really challenging health issues, it depends on how much you think your readers want to know the details, and at what length. It could be too much. That doesn’t mean you can’t mention it at all.
Yes it is hard to rest. I’m sure you have the same problem. I am an extremely impatient person — ask Owen! I’m having to learn to just stop and rest, something new for me. Hugs back!
So sorry to hear the news of your injury, Dianne! It seems you still have good humor, which is very important. And, you can continue to write. Take good care of yourself and best wishes for a speedy recovery.
Best,
— Susan
Oh thank you. I’m trying! I really don’t want to dissolve into a pity party. Writing from bed is just okay, but I’ve been able to scoot up the stairs to my office for small periods of time to work. That has been immensely satisfying. Thanks Susan!
So very sorry to hear about your accident. Many of us turn to cooking as therapy. How awful that what you love so much is not available to you right now. I pray for a speedy and complete recovery so that you can get acquainted with your new kitchen on a first hand basis. As my Zeyda of blessed memory used to say “This too shall pass!”
That is a favorite expression of a friend of mine! I don’t know where it came from, but we say it too each other reguarly becuase it always seems to be appropriate. It puts things in perspective. Thanks for the good thoughts, Sandy.
Oh my goodness Diane, your note reminded me of a January when I had knee surgery. I fully expected to be leaving the hospital with the aid of crutches and into physio asap. The reality was non-weight bearing for 6 weeks with two dogs and a house full of steep stairs. It was “character building.”
Bonne courage,
C
Oh the steep stairs! That is a workout in itself. And I hope the dogs didn’t knock you over. I hope you are mostly recovered now, Carolyne.
I need to comment as I’m cooking less and thinking about it a lot now. We’re moving and packing up favorite things takes time and space. We’ll take a break for a month before moving into a new place. I’ll wait to then to cook again. I think there is something here to discuss about aging and cooking. Hope you will expand on that sometime.
Judie Davis Glick
Vancouver
Hi Judie, well I’m supposed to be writing about food writing, as do my guest posters, but I agree, it’s an intriguing topic. The pandemic has made me more relaxed about cooking, and improved my skills. So has growing older, as you say. My mum quit cooking right after my dad died. She was middle aged. I don’t think I would feel that way, but I definitely wouldn’t cook as often for one person. I hope you enjoy the new place. We are stll trying to figure out where everything is.
I’m so sorry that you’re not feeling well! But I’m not particularly sorry that you’ll be forced to allow yourself to be taken care of. It’s something all of us need every once in a while. Relish it, and the holidays, and know that cooking will be there for you whenever you’re ready again. XOXOX
You are absolutely right, Jill. it’s just the length of time that I wlll need to be taken care of by my husband and others. It’s daunting. I’m not used to that. I hope I don’t slink into a depression or gain 50 pounds! But I’m enjoying all the love and care, and Owen is doing a great job. I’m trying to be grateful every day. I like your attitude. Hugs back!
I’m so sorry to hear about your ankle. I don’t know what is going on this year. Both my sisters broke their ankle too. One more severely than the other. It took a long time but she has recovered fully, the other is still going through it now. It takes a lot of patience. But the positive outcome was to discover that both husbands can actually do the work when it is necessary 🙂 I wish you a speedy recovery ! I would read lots of books!
Hah hah very funny about the husbands. Mine has been up to the task but he likes some parts more than others. He’s used to me doing all the shopping and cooking, so that’s a big change. But yes, I do look forward to reading more. I just have to allow myself the time to do that.
Sorry to hear about your injury. Now it’s just a waiting game for your body to heal. Follow all your instructions and keep it elevated. The knee scooter is the best thing ever. Try to do all of your “seated” activities now because once they set you free you will be hard to catch. Words of wisdom from a physical therapist.
Good Luck
WOW Dianne!
I do not know if you remember me, but believe it or not I do follow you ever since. I suddenly saw your foot on my facebook page. I said to myself: “What is that?” Until I realized that it is your foot. Well first, CONGRATULATIONS! Finally you know that you have a leg. It looks kind of interesting.
Now let me chear you up. I have problems with both of my legs, and it is NOT going away. It is here to stay until I am alive. Did you hear me complaining? You can answer: “Did I hear about you for years?” and you would be right. But i have the right excuses. My health deteriorated significantly and I do not have any help. With respect to my legs, I have a condition called “lymphedema” where fluid accumulates in my legs and they swell like a baloon. Finally last year I found a therapist that worked on them almost a year and they are back to ?
“nearly” normal, except the skin. I do not think the skin will ever be the same. So I can walk now with a walker (but inside the apartment without it).
I just told you this story so that you can see the difference. I even forgot how to bake and that is more painful then my legs.
So I trust you’ll survive, nevertheless I wish you a speedy recovery. I had to move to Maryland to be near my youngest son and this move cost me a lot. I do not mean moneywise but I lost tremendous amount of things (and here it comes) including your books. I purchased all of them. One of these days I will buy them back if I am still here.
I stop now in this “message” board, before people will attack me. “Who cares about your legs??” But I know that you do. Love Jayne (your old time early student)
Hello Jaynee! Great to hear from you. I knew that you had health problems years ago when we first worked together but now I am learning more. How challenging. I really don’t mind that you had to get rid of my books when you moved. I got rid of more than 300 books during this move. It was hard, but I figured people would uunderstand.
I’m sorry you have to deal with this lymphedena as an onoing problem, but it does sound like you’re doing better than before. Don’t worry, my readers are not the type who would attack you.
Feel better soon, Dianne! I hate that you’re having to deal with that around the holidays.
Thank you Liz. Actually it’s okay! I got my cast put on, there’s not much going on because I just can’t do much! Less pressure. Happy holidays to you.
Just got my 60th anniversary copy of Four Wheeler magazine, February 2020, and lo and behold, they have all the past Executive Editors, and such listed on page 77. If I don’t say anymore, all your readers will go out and by one, but you were the only female in the lot, so I checked you out, and landed here!
So breaking your ankle is probably not the worst thing you’ve felt, So just letting you know, that it is around, your pic was good, beautiful smile, and now you have more to write about, like Bigfoot, might date you a smidge, 🙂
OMG this is hilarious, Kevin. About three readers total know about my secret past. Thanks for letting me know the issue is out! I’m gonna go get a copy.
Type O, Feb, 2022…