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My Very Easy and Healthy Smoothie and Granola Recipes!

I find it amusing and perplexing that bloggers love recipes and anything written about food. I could have 99 posts about ME/CFS that never get read, but the 100th post about my oat bar recipe will have 10 bloggers “liking” it. So, with that in mind, listen up foodie bloggers! (foggers? bloodies?) I -somebody with too little energy to shower most days- make a smoothie every day and granola every week. They’re easy and they cost such an exorbitant amount of money at the shops, that you should start making your own immediately!

Triple Berry Smoothie 1

[Edit: I have since started doing green juices and not eating so much fruit, but this is still delicious for a yummy treat.]

E.M.’s Basic Smoothie (dairy-free, sugar-free, gluten-free etc.)

Blend:

  • 1 banana
  • a few handfuls of frozen mixed berries
  • almond milk (sweetened or unsweetened, vanilla or original)

Now, here are the variations that make it interesting:

  • 1 banana (or pear, if bananas are too much sugar or too many carbs. Often I’ll put half the banana in my granola for breakfast and then use the other half in a smoothie for “elevensies”)
  • a few handfuls of frozen mixed berries (or fresh berries or mango or…)
  • almond milk (or coconut milk or soy milk or hemp milk or cow’s milk or yogurt or ice cream or frozen yogurt or…)
  • splash of orange juice (really kicks it up a notch)
  • 1 tsp vanilla
  • pinch of cinnamon and/or nutmeg
  • agave nectar or stevia to taste (but you don’t need it!)
  • 1 tbs flax seed meal (I always do this)
  • a few walnuts (I always do this, too. You wouldn’t believe how good walnuts are blended up in a smoothie)

Also, you can add water or ice to thicken or thin the smoothie without adding calories, but not affecting the taste too much.

Granola after roasting

Granola consists of oats, a far and something sweet. So, it can be as simple as oats, oil/fat and honey… and then you get to add any seeds, nuts or different flavours you like. I made up all these measurements, you less or more to your liking.

E.M.’s Healthy Granola (dairy-free, refined sugar-free, gluten-free)

  • 4 cups gluten-free rolled oats 
  • 1/2 cup raw sunflower seeds (can be salted. If not, add 1/4-1/2 tsp salt to recipe)
  • 1/2 cup raw pumpkin seeds
  • 1 cup chopped nuts (any kind: I like pecans, cashews and almonds. If I didn’t put walnuts in my smoothies, I’d put them in my granola)
  • 1/2 cup coconut (can be sweetened or unsweetened)
  • 1/2-1 tbs cinnamon
  • 5 tbs fat of choice (butter, high-oliec sunflower or canola oil, heated up coconut oil… lately I’ve been using olive oil and the taste has not overwhelmed the finished product)
  • 5 tbs honey (or brown rice syrup or maple syrup or whatever liquid sweetener you like)
  • 2 tsps pure vanilla extract (I add much more because I love vanilla)
  • 1/4-1/2 cup dried fruit (raisins, cranberries, apples, cherries etc.)

Preheat oven to 300 degrees. Combine dry ingredients. Heat oil, honey and vanilla over low heat until it is runny but not boiling. Pour over dry ingredients, mix thoroughly and spread over 2 baking trays lined with foil or parchment. Bake for about 30 minutes until golden. When cooled, add dried fruit (otherwise they have a tendency to get a bit crispy and charred in the oven). I love mine in clumps, but I think you’d need more honey to get that effect. The NY Times recently said that if you leave a “donut hole” in the middle of the baking trays and don’t stir the granola while it’s baking, it’ll come out clumpier, however, it didn’t work for me.

Which brings me to the variations: obviously, you can have no seeds or no nuts or no coconut. You can have no vanilla or cinnamon or dried fruit. Tinker with the oil and honey. I only put 2 tbs honey and 2 tbs agave nectar in my last batch, knowing I could always add more to my bowl of granola when I’m eating it … but, I didn’t think it was quite sweet enough. This is not grocery store granola! This way you can make it healthier or not ~ whatever you like. You’re in charge. 🙂

Enjoy!

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My Second Visit To The Chronic Fatigue Clinic

I didn't have to wait too long for the doctor this time, but still thought this was hilarious.

I didn’t have to wait too long for the doctor this time, but still thought this was hilarious.

The single best thing the chronic fatigue specialist said was, “We’ve been puzzling over your case for a while.” I said, “Well, at least that makes more than one of us.”

Somehow, it meant more than anything else he could have said ~ except, perhaps, “we have a cure” or “we found a previously-overlooked treatable tumor.” He only spent about 20 minutes with us, but he did seem to have prior knowledge of my case ~ details I had told the PA six months ago. That was reassuring. Maybe he actually was back in his office, reading my file thoroughly, pacing back and forth, stroking his beard, massaging the bridge of his nose, calling his colleagues, looking up case histories in large, dusty medical tomes… Ok, doubtful, but I’m grateful he took a cursory glance at my paperwork before coming in the room.

So, this was the appointment for which I waited a total of seven months. The first time I went to the Chronic Fatigue Clinic was laughable. It turned out to be an intake appointment: hours of question-answering and no information or practical advice beyond that I should eat pickles and pizza to get my blood pressure up. This time around, the vast majority of the discussion was with a “pain specialist” who works with the main doctor. I answered a long list of questions again, this time about my current symptoms and their debilitating-ness on a scale from 1 to 10. Pain and headaches are currently my worst symptoms, followed by stiffness, achiness, exhaustion.

When the main doc finally joined us, he said…very slowly… “your symptoms are confusing” …pause… “they’re so varied” …pause… “but” …pause… “we still consider this chronic fatigue syndrome.” About five minutes later he said, “the reason you’re confusing” …pause… “is because you tested positive for…” For what? FOR WHAT!? “…plasmodium.” Oh. Yeah. But that was a false positive. Right? He didn’t seem to quite buy the false positive for whatever reason, which now has me thinking about malaria again. He didn’t want to pursue it, but he just was so slow and thoughtful about this malaria conundrum that it made me think he knew more about how those tests work than I do and that the positive results shouldn’t just be swept under the rug. Regardless, I have no symptoms of active infection, so he thought we should move forward with CFS symptom management.

Both doctors gave me a brief synopsis of “central sensitization” and how chronic pain manifests itself. Although I still felt like I knew more than both of them about ME/CFS, I’m hoping this was just because doctors never show all their cards (or even that they HAVE cards) in one office visit. I’ve stopped holding it against them. They don’t have time, after all, to convince me that they know their shit. And the main doctor’s eyes said he cared, so I’ll trust him. The first doctor did try to explain things as succinctly as possible (nerves, serotonin inflammation, blah blah), although I knew it all already and, after talking fairly quickly for 45 minutes, I felt like I was about to pass out. I start out so strong and drain out so quickly. I felt myself slipping lower in the chair. My head felt like it was being held up by a noodle. I kept looking longingly at the rumpled, beaten-down gurney.

melting

The main doc, to his credit, didn’t dumb anything down and emphasized repeatedly that the medical community does not fully understand the mechanisms behind what happens in chronic fatigue syndrome, but that it is a central nervous system disorder. He said the etiology of CFS, fibromyalgia and chronic pain is the same, so the treatments are similar. He used to work with Jon Kabat-Zinn, which excited me since I’ve read Kabat-Zinn’s book, listened to his meditations and podcasts etc., and my therapy has been based on his mindfulness models.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to ask any of my questions: Should I see a rheumatologist? Cardiologist? Neurologist? Should I be tested for heavy metal toxicity? Hormone levels? Serum electrolytes? Coxsackie? XMRV? They didn’t want to retest any of my year-old blood tests without any new and/or severe symptoms.

Ultimately, my marching orders were to start Cymbalta at 20mg, see the clinic’s psychotherapist and read The Pain Survival Guide (written by Dennis Turk, a colleague of theirs, incidentally). Also, both doctors were emphatic that exercise was the best medicine (although, they called it “activation” to try to trick us into thinking it was more technical and less threatening). My husband piped up about our fears when it comes to graded exercise. I said, “I try to keep active, but if someone is going to ask me to lift a weight… forget about it.” Momentarily, I wanted to scream: Get into my body for one week and then tell me to exercise or waste energy seeing your psychotherapist or come back to useless appointment after useless appointment! But, it was only momentary. They’re trying. They’re treating us. They’re our only hope.

As we were leaving, I said, “Call me if you need a guinea pig.” The main doctor said, “You’d be amazed how many people say they’d like to be part of research studies.” “Not really. When you don’t want to live like this, there’s not much to lose. We need all the help we can get.” This coming from the lady who has unopened bottles of SIX different prescriptions that might supposedly help me. I’ll participate in a research study as long as you don’t touch me or give me any drugs.

Daily gratitude: for all the doctors and researchers trying to find the answers to ME/CFS/FM. Thank you.

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Help Links

My intention in my last post was to give as much help as I can to those who might be reading this in the beginning of this disease. Everything I’ve done and am doing to try to conquer the Dark Yin, I have researched, read about or been told to do by a doctor. There are so many people out there without the resources that I have, so I wanted to describe in detail what I am doing each day to get stronger and add links to different products that have helped me. I am going to write an updated post about my supplements soon, too. I compare products and prices, so maybe that will help someone who does not have the energy to do their own research.

If anyone has any questions about what I do, use or take, please don’t hesitate to ask!

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January 1st, 2013

2012 was the worst year of my life. I realise that is not a very festive and celebratory way to start a new year’s post, but it’s the truth. Having said that, however, I know that if this past year has been my worst, I have been extremely fortunate and had a very blessed life.

On January 1st 2012, I wrote an eight page-long goodbye letter to my husband which included all the details of our online accounts, passwords, paperwork etc., things with which I have always dealt. It also laid out my thoughts about my funeral and asked him to make sure to use my savings to pay for my family and E. to travel from Ireland, if needed. Really morbid stuff.

Thank you for your love, kindness, caretaking, honesty, patience… You gave me everything I’ve ever wanted in a friend, a partner, a husband. I am so lucky…

I had never experienced anything like what I was going through and I didn’t think I’d come through it. At the time, I had been diagnosed with malaria. Never did it occur to me, if I did survive, that I’d still be sick a year later. Never did it occur to me that I might be sick for years and years to come. I work every minute of every day to get better and that is what I will continue to do. Every day, in so many ways, I try to help myself heal:

I wake up slowly, gather my strength, set my intention for the day. I open my blinds so moisture doesn’t collect on the window panes, I turn on my air purifier so it can work its unseen magic during the day. I wash my mouth guard, cpap mask and machine parts ~ yes, every day. I brush my teeth sitting down. I wash my face, pick off the leftover adhesive (from the tape I put over my mouth at night) and apply a calendula cream that helps my skin heal. I put my dry eye drops in and use my antihistamine nasal spray. I make tea with stevia and soy creamer (no sugar, splenda or dairy allowed anymore) and take my first supplements of the day with filtered water (the top rated (cheap) filter by Consumer Reports). I check the temperature and the humidity in the house. My body has no concept of comfortable anymore. I could be feverish for no reason or freezing in the heat. Or sweating face, but icy toes.

I work on the computer for a bit, sitting in front of a light box. Breakfast is a smoothie with flax, berries, and walnuts or homemade granola with fruit and almond milk. I seem to have completely conquered my hypoglycemia by switching from rice milk to almond milk and adding fiber to my tea. Afternoon beverage is decaf green tea, per the Good Doc’s orders. I do any chores I can manage. I try to meditate three times a day. This is forced rest… or preemptive rest. Regardless of how I feel, at the very least, I lie down twice each day for an hour, usually at 1pm and 6pm. I have a room ~ not my bedroom ~ where I have peace, privacy, a small futon, a wedge pillow, blanket, eye mask, headphones and CDs. These meditations are the only reason I can get through the day. If I don’t recharge, flat on my back with my eyes closed, I will start to deteriorate: get shaky, slow down cognitively, become achy, stiff and develop a headache.

yoga room

In between 2pm and 4pm, if I’m up to it, I do laps around my house with the dogs. I’m currently not up for more than 4 times around ~ about 400 steps. I wear a pedometer all day, every day.  I am diligent about keeping my core temperature up. For those few minutes outside, I put on my heated vest, hat, scarf, gloves, Uggs. I never want to go back to the debilitating chills of this time last year. If I feel I have some strength, I do every little thing possible to “exercise” so my muscles don’t decondition any more. I squeeze the squeeky dog ball in both hands. I slowly and carefully scoop dog poop. I focus as many miles away as possible ~ to the skyline or horizon ~ since I spend so long indoors only looking six feet ahead. I breathe deeply ~ consciously ~ to get my dose of outside air. I notice everything: planes tracing lines in the sky… the sounds of our neighbours… plants, birds, trees that I never paid much attention to before. And I am grateful for every step, always silently thanking the universe for keeping me on my feet, for allowing me to have the health I still have.

last leaf

Even if I can barely move, I try to stretch my muscles as often as possible. I soak in an Epsom salt bath (2 cups) for no more than 30 minutes (I am told any more than that and the badness leeches back into your muscles) and then I do gentle floor stretches, as well as my neck traction. I dry my hair sitting down. My lunches and dinners are predictable, boring and really pretty disgusting after months and months on end. No grains of any kind besides oats, no eggs, dairy, legumes, potatoes, tomatoes or cod. No msg, obviously, and I’m desperately trying to cut down on sugar. I add turmeric to virtually everything I eat. If I had the energy to cook, I would be making the most creative and tasty dishes, but, as it is, I rely on my husband and quick snacks: apples, nuts etc. Basically, I eat enough to take my supplements. I drink two tablespoons of tart cherry juice with dinner every night and usually drink ginger tea last thing before bed. I don’t watch tv later than 9:30pm, I practice good sleep hygiene and I never get to sleep later than 11:30pm.

My year felt like one third survival, one third denial, and one third a carefully constructed balancing act. A tightrope walk with no end in sight and any time you fall off, you don’t go back to the beginning ~ you go back much further than where you started. So, you don’t know how far the rope goes in front of you or behind you. Now: Turn that tightrope so it’s vertical. You aren’t walking forward, you’re clinging on with your hands, trying to climb upwards into the clouds… an abyss below you. Just one hand over the other. Don’t look up, don’t look down. This moment, this breath.

Holding onto a rope

2012 Wrap Up:

January: Saw endocrinologist; Mom visited.
February: Saw infectious disease doctor; started seeing a therapist; started meditating.
March: Saw rheumatologist, saw allergist, saw gastroenterologist; started low fat diet; changed birth control pills; eliminated pain killers.
April: Saw naturopath; started gluten-free and dairy-free diet; my friends’ sweet baby A. was born ~ the highlight of this year.
May: Saw second infectious disease doctor; Mom visited; stopped working and left career.
June: Saw optometrist; got CT scan.
July: By best friend E. visited; my sister got a new puppy (my new nephew); dear friend of the family’s, M.B., died.
August: Started seeing the Good Doctor; saw chronic fatigue “specialist”; started automimmune elimination diet.
September: Started acupuncture; saw sports medicine doctor; had sleep study done; Dad visited; became housebound.
October: Got brain and cervical spine MRI, Mom visited; brother T. visited.
November: Saw obgyn; started using cpap.
December: Brother A. visited; sister and J. visited for Christmas; dear old friend, D.H., died far too young.

This was my year. I know there is a big world out there with a lot bigger things going on, but this was my year. Doctors, tests, symptoms, setbacks, births, deaths, revelations about myself, revelations about our bodies, grief, joy, fear and more grief. And I know: it could have been much, much worse. What I see when I look at this is: my brothers, sister, mother, father and best friends all came to visit me. They journeyed across the city, country or world to my house to support me. In doing so, they healed me. I am very lucky. I am very blessed. With this kind of support, I can be the rock again. I will feel like I can weather any storm again. Maybe that’s what the new year will bring. I will notice everything, consider anything, expect something, but fear nothing. Welcome, 2013. You’re going to look very different from last year.

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Celebrate Average Eight

I don’t get to stay up late even though it’s new year’s eve. One bad night is like poking holes in a dam: For each disruption in the night, for each minute of sleep lost, the dam that holds the symptoms at bay springs a leak. If I can’t plug the holes quicker than they form, the whole barrier might crumble and fall… And the tsunami will come crashing down. So, I’m in bed, pretending I’m in New York and it’s already past midnight.

I’m ending this year on a relative high. These are the hours of sleep I’ve had in the last week:

7.75
8
8
7.25
8.5
8.5
9.25
9

For those of you that know me, you probably realise that this has never happened in my life. 8 hours of sleep is unheard of. 9 hours is unthinkable. Perhaps as a child I slept well, but I don’t think so. Since I can remember, I’ve been trying to replenish my appalling sleep deficit… Years upon years upon years… Everything wakes me: my husband snoring, the dog scratching, the heater moaning, footsteps, a crack of light, a car door slamming, the bathroom fan. And, once awake, I’m screwed. My brain is on high-speed from the first second: replaying conversations, making to-do lists, thinking about who I’ve neglected and what chores need doing, rewriting tv shows, writing blog posts, remembering everything I’ll just forget again once I get up.

I’ve worn my Zeo head band for years. When I was working 50 to 60 hours a week, I averaged 6 hours- or just under- of sleep over the course of about a year. When I was working in the corporate office, I managed to get my average up to almost 7 hours a night. Today, after this last month, it is 8. Eight! Lucky 8! I want to celebrate my eight! But I won’t. I’ll go to sleep and the rest of you can let off a bunch of fireworks and get drunk and kiss each other – all in honour of my sleep accomplishment this week. Oh, and 2013, too. Bring it on. Good riddance, 2012. May we all stay healthy or become healthier in the new year. That’s my only resolution: I resolve to kick M.E.’s ass. I am not gonna be that little Dutch boy with my finger in the dam no more!

Happy New Year, World!