Yesterday evening while preparing our last hurray holiday feast, I opened up the big flat drawer in the kitchen ... come on, we all have one, and it's called the "kitchen junk drawer," and I gasped, "I can't believe, we don't have a meat thermometer! Notice I said "we" so that it was like all of us were messed up over this, and not just me.
So that was the first thing I put on my "to do list" for the week, because I am nothing without my "lists," and the one for Monday started out "get a meat thermometer," even though, up until that point, in all these years, not having one has never really bothered me.
Now, the meal ....well, it came out fine
even though I freaked out over whether what I did with the precooked smoked turkey would ultimately be safe. You can eat it cold, you can microwave the thing, you can put it on your grill, you can have it with green eggs and ham, you can shove it your oven, or you can do as I chose, which was to use my roaster, two hours for the 16-pound bird, and then there's that final instruction, "jam the meat thermometer into the thickest portion and and make sure it's whatever la-de-da temperature so you don't kill your entire family."
Well, that bothered me last night, because I don't use a meat thermometer ever, and also because I've been paranoid lately about a lot of things, off my tree in a couple of respects, a bit over-anxious in spots, and somewhat going out of my mind. I mean, really, the last thing I wanted to do was kill my family.
The inside of my head the last two weeks or so, if you took a picture of it, has been a bit scattered, not unlike my kitchen junk drawer, because I was weaning off a "brain med" as I like to call them. Now, believe it or not, I was brave (and/or stupid) enough to attempt this over the holidays, because it seemed like a good time to undergo the whole exercise.
Really, though, I was looking forward to the whole process and this really was the perfect time for it, work and otherwise. The fact that my family is on board with all my heady concerns, that also made the process a whole lot easier, since they are very supportive. And, if nothing else, I have beenentertaining to say the least, especially last week and weekend, when I was clumsy at best, made all kinds of Freudian slips while searching my skull for what I reallly meant to say, and eventually took Benadryl and slept a lot, which was one way my physician told me I could get around some of the shitty effects of weaning off. On my worst days, I said it was a lot like having morning sickness only between my ears, like my brain was nauseated at best.
Yesterday, when I finished making dinner and was cleaning up, I looked out over our open concept home and said to Mark and Ali, "Well, this really has been a wonderful two weeks. I think I should be going now. I'm sure whoever they are, my real family misses me."
Really, we couldn't have gotten through this all if someone had stole my sense of humor. At least that always works no matter how my skull shorts out.
I had an appointment today with my doc, had a buttload of lab work, and no imaging studies (I just showed her the kitchen drawer picture), and now I, and a team of physicians, are working on a new "cocktail" of sorts for my dented brain pan.
It's long overdue, since I've been making due with a medication that wasn't really working, but I'm so stubborn, I just figured I could work around it, which I have been doing for quite some time, which is "insane" as my doctor put it. She actually said something like, "Get off your martyr hobby horse, and let's find something that works."
My doctor has a great sense of humor too.
So, today was very much that official "back to work" kind of Monday, because even though I could have worked this weekend any any number of client projects, I did not work for four straight days! Odd for me, I know, but seemed prudent to goof off and rest up for the ultimate next steps.
I'm very much looking forward to the New Year and all the new stops and starts that come with being resolute, and also sometimes going, oh, fuck it already, and today at Walgreens while picking up various new prescription bottles, I stopped off in their kitchen aisle and bought a meat thermometer!!!!! ... and now we'll see if I ever actually use it, or if I keep cooking by the seat of my pants.
2 comments:
I don't eat meat (though I have a cooking thermometer, which I did have to locate over the holidays in order to measure the temp of a custard for that Mexican chocolate ice cream), but I am familiar with worries about killing my family over one simple little thing, whether its problematic ingredients or some carelessness on my part.
Hope the new regime helps your dented brain pan. Though I would prefer to call it your exquisitely sensitive neural matter. Or something else that I can't bring to mind right now.
I love that, I'm going to have to get "exquisitely sensitive neural matter" in my medical record, and/or in the very least on a t-shirt!
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