Let's Delve into 2012!

January 1st, 2012, approximately 9AM
Is there anything quite so divine as sitting down in complete slow solitude for a delicious breakfast?

Hello, 2012, and hello Blog-o-sphere! I have returned to the wonderful pacific inland northwest and to the wonderful world of blogging after a fabulous 19-days on the east coast with my family. It was just the right amount of time away filled with birthday celebrations, Chanukah festivities and overall holiday cheer. Some of the highlights of this trip included a visit to my hometown of Albany, New York, a trip to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, some delicious restaurant meals, the ease of doing all one's Shabbat grocery shopping in one store, quality time with each of my parents, and some long walks with eager pooches! The weather was unseasonably mild aside from an appropriately-timed dusting of snow in New Hampshire on the morning of December 25th. And perhaps just as enjoyable as all the outings and activities was the time spent in my parents' homes snuggling up with a cup of tea, a good book, my journal, or some mindless television. I had the pleasure of getting to prepare a traditional Shabbat meal for my father, his wife, my sister and brother-in-law as well as a Chanukah dinner for my father, his wife and one of her daughters on the first night of Chanukah.
Festive First Night of Chanukah: Fried, Fresh and Fabulous!

Since returning home, I've been reveling in this final week off before my college classes resume. I ate breakfast sitting down at the table yesterday! I didn't even have the television or radio on! Rather, I wrote for a bit in my journal and then slowly sipped my coffee and enjoyed the blissful solitude. I've loved getting back to the gym on a more regular basis as well as getting back to my Yoga practice in preparation for this year's 21 Day Yoga Challenge. I've actually been motivated to tackle (and even enjoy) some long-awaited housework and organization. My kitchen has been accessed for the purpose of cooking again (as opposed to just grabbing whatever is quick and handy in the refrigerator). I've already been able to get some leftovers stocked up in my freezer for when life will no doubt get busy again in the next few months.
As is my tradition, I resolved this new year to make no resolutions. Overall, each moment of each day is about being the best me I can be--ever growing, always learning. It is important to love what you do and do what you love. In that spirit, I'd love to share this super-easy, budget-friendly nutritious and delicious recipe for Lentil Soup. It received rave reviews at my 1st Night of Chanukah meal and I've made it again since returning home. It was quick to prepare the ingredients and easy to leave it simmering while I tended to the potato latkes. It would freeze well and makes a perfectly sustaining and satisfying lunch or dinner when served alongside a salad.


Lentil Soup

Ingredients:

1 tsp oil (I use extra virgin olive oil)
1 onion, diced
2 carrots, sliced
3-4 cloves garlic, minced

4 cups vegetable stock
2 bay leaves (*remove at the end!)

1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
salt & pepper to taste
1 cup dried lentils

Directions:
In a large pot, saute onion and carrots over medium heat in oil for about 3-5 minutes, until onions turn opaque. Add the minced garlic to the pot just toward the end of that process (cooking it too long causes it to become bitter). Add the vegetable stock, bay leaves, thyme, salt, pepper and lentils. Cover and cook over low heat for about 45 minutes or until lentils are soft, stirring occasionally. Remove and discard the bay leaves prior to serving. If you are serving this in a Kosher kitchen with meat or prefer to keep it pareve, this is perfect. If you are eating dairy, it goes quite well with a dollop of light sour cream or plain yogurt. Enjoy! And Happy 2012!

Happy Wellniversary!

The month of December always encourages somewhat of a personal reflection period being that it is the month I was born in nearly 27 years ago. However, this year brings about a whole new perspective for me as I come up on the first anniversary (or Wellnivesary as I am calling it) of my diagnosis with and treatment for obstructive sleep apnea. A year ago in December, I was spending a lot of time with doctors. I had seen two neurologists here in Spokane and saw a third in Boston, MA while visiting my family to get a "second opinion." It is rather difficult to acquire a second opinion when there isn't actually an official first opinion from which to build! Both specialists could only say what "it" was probably not and possibly similar to. After returning to Spokane and following up with my neurologist here, he ordered one last test to help define what type of movement disorder was causing my incessant tics and twitches; it was the last stop on a train that looked bound toward a lifetime in Pharmaceutical Land. At the end of this past January, I was delivered an unexpected gift at 1:30am during that polysomnogram: a surprised technician at the sleep center came in carrying a C-PAP machine and mask that I was about to wear for the first time.
And the presents keep on coming! Walking out of my home medical care office with this giant plastic sack of C-PAP parts and accessories made me feel like Santa, for lack of a better reference. Then I thought to myself, Santa is a prime candidate for Obstructive Sleep Apnea, what with the terrible air quality in chimneys, his gender, age and physical stature (large neck, carries excess weight in his midsection...)

I'm certain I had no idea what to expect at that point. I know I cried because I thought only "fat, old men" get sleep apnea. I remember my first night of using my C-PAP machine at home and feeling intensely hopeful after what I considered to be a huge and immediate success. And then the feelings of disappointment, desperation and personal failure at not being able to maintain that...
I was overcome with excitement and optimism--and this made the next few nights, which did not go as well, incredibly hard to accept. The novelty of finally knowing what has been affecting my health over the past several years had worn off and been replaced by the realization that I will deal with this for the rest of my life. --taken from this post on February 6, 2011
Many times in the lengthy process toward finding a mask, pressure setting and sleep regimen that would work for me, I wanted nothing more than to be a candidate for corrective surgery, to just give up and revert to being a "twitching idiot" or to somehow just go back in time to when I didn't know I even had sleep apnea. I felt more and more discouraged and at times, isolated in that feeling. I wrote about it a bit on March 19th, here. I wondered if I would ever be able to go to sleep again without "thinking about it" or be able to enjoy that cozy feeling when you wake up naturally in the morning and just want to lay there a bit.

If I had to share my bed space with all of the paperwork, masks, parts, and accessories involved in finally reaching the set-up that now works for me, I'd have no place to sleep!

The truth of that matter is, I'm not entirely there yet. I finally have a mask (Mask #5) that works for me and a pressure setting (I lost count of how many changes that took) that keeps me from having symptoms but isn't too high. I also now have insomnia quite often, as I think the process of getting to where I am now made me rather sensitive to other sleep disturbances. However, I am now off of all of the medications I was on for over a decade. I rarely have the uncontrolled movements that once rendered me unable to hold still at all. On rare occasions, I do wake up with the feeling that I've really enjoyed a restful night and rather than immediately wanting to escape my bed and feeling grateful another night is over, I lay there a bit in the cozy bliss of restfulness. This positivity really came forward yesterday when I checked in again with both my sleep doctor and neurologist. My neurologist here was visibly impressed by the improvement in my strength, balance, and muscle function/control. He said, "It's been a long journey for you, but you really fixed yourself."
At first, I was not sure I agreed entirely with his statement. I recognize how easily this could have been missed if he had not ordered the polysomnogram and if the sleep doctor had gone with his initial intuition to not run the test at all. I realize how easily I could have started a lifelong regimen of more drugs to treat symptoms that I'd likely still deal with if it were not for the correct diagnosis. I realize that essentially, this was and still is in G-d's hands. However, in further reflection, there is truth to my doctor's statement. Many patients continue to struggle with the affects of sleep apnea because it often goes undiagnosed. Many patients who feel chronically fatigued or "just not right" will avoid medical treatment altogether as these symptoms are often mislabeled or overlooked by medical professionals. And many who are diagnosed do not benefit from C-PAP therapy because they discontinue their treatment or their treatment is not completely controlling their sleep disordered breathing.
C-PAP machines are the first line of defense in treatment of sleep apnea. They are a great invention, don't get me wrong--can you imagine if I had to sleep in an iron lung?! A lot of focus is put on the patient responsibility to be "compliant." I strongly dislike that this is the vocabulary used around the issue! Insurance companies will not even cover the purchase of a machine (and cover a rental-only basis of use) until "compliance" over an extended period of time is proven. I recently read an article entitled "Innovative approaches help sleep apnea sufferers benefit from CPAP." The premise of the study done and approach being taken is that patients who have the support and encouragement of a parent or partner/spouse tend to have significantly greater success rates in using CPAP machines. If you are in any way affected by sleep apnea and CPAP therapy, be it that you are the patient or your loved one is, I do encourage you to read this. However, I disagree with the idea that providing emotional support and encouragement for CPAP users is in any way an innovative approach! Unfortunately, within the medical field it is innovative. Many patients are sent home with their machine and left somewhat to their own devices. The author of the article would classify my personal approach to solving my CPAP conundrums as "actively coping." I would classify it is "obsessively stubborn." As much as I would contemplate giving up on the therapy, I never allowed myself to actually see that as an option. I never got to a point where I was willing to go back to the way things were even if things were not as I wanted them yet. Many patients have different coping styles, less obvious symptoms, and do give up on the therapy. Many of those patients' health problems worsen and some actually die from complications of sleep apnea.
If I were to suggest an approach for family, friends, and healthcare providers for people suffering from sleep apnea and to the individuals themselves, it would be that there is no cookie-cutter plan for treating sleep apnea. Every body is different. Some people go home with their shiny new machine and sleep well immediately and for the rest of their lives. Some go home and immediately struggle to adjust, whether it's feelings of claustrophobia, the noise, the lights, an ill-fitting mask, an incorrect pressure setting, you name it. Some have an amazing first night and then nearly a year of struggling. There is no "it takes 4-6 weeks to kick in" type plan here. Well meaning folks will ask how you've slept every morning. Well meaning folks will tell you "you should be back to normal in about 2 months." Well meaning folks will tell you their experience with CPAP was "amazing" or "horrible" or "fill-in-the-blank." And as well meaning but often sleep-deprived patients, we may receive it well, laugh it off or burst into tears--often not when we expect or plan to!
If I had to categorize and classify my experience, I'd put under "Success Stories." Right now, CPAP therapy is my one and only ticket to continued wellness. I tolerate my good ol' machine, sometimes I even almost like the little thing! Do I sometimes still wish that I could have some sort of magical one-time-only cure and not have to use it ever again? Honestly, yes. But the quality of the life I live each day because of how well I am able to sleep at night is the truest testament to how beneficial this therapy is for me. As I near the day I will celebrate my 27th year on this beautiful blue planet, I am immensely grateful to also be celebrating my 1st Wellniversary and to be surrounded near and far by people who showed incredible amounts of love, humor, kindness and patience through it all!

Remembering My Grandpa, Bernard Beller, OBM

I don't think there is ever really a case of "being ready" to lose a loved one. Your phone rings in the evening, you pick it up and even with the preface of "I have some bad news to tell you," it seems impossible to fully brace yourself for the blow that is about to come. This past Wednesday, my Grandpa passed away in a hospital near the apartment he and my grandmother shared in Florida during the cooler months. They had arrived in Florida just over a week prior. I had spoken to him Thursday morning the week before as he and my Grandma prepared for Shabbat the next day.
August, 2011
I was blessed enough to spend a day with my Grandpa this past summer. He most often went by "Ben" and "Ben's Kosher Deli" was one of his (and my) favorite places to eat near my grandparent's home in New York.

My Grandpa and Grandma celebrated 60 years of marriage this past September. There are many things to admire about him and many gifts he shared with me through the years. His own life story is an incredible one, but I will share that at another time. For now, I feel it's relevant and important to say that my Grandpa and Grandma are two of the most influential people in my decision to become a more observant Jew. His love of Torah, learning and mitzvos were at the core of who he was and who I strive more and more to become.

Living in Washington state while my family is all back east means that in times like these, it's not possible to be with them physically. The distance would feel overwhelmingly isolating were it not for the incredible friends I have here, my Jewish community and the power of technology. I was able to view the funeral via live telecast, and my mother kindly volunteered to read on my behalf the following words I wrote about my Grandpa:

As a very little girl, I am told I was a little slow to warm up to Grandpa—particularly if it involved hugs and kisses. He still smoked a pipe back then. I can remember him telling me to come smell the loose tobacco he carried in a Ziploc bag--that it smelled like chocolate. I knew then we had a very different opinion of what chocolate should smell like. I did not like the crust on my challah at Shabbos dinner and Grandpa told me “eat it, it tastes like cookies!” I knew then we also had a very different opinion of what a cookie should taste like. In those days, he referred to me affectionately as “Peanut.” I knew I had begun to grow up when he starting to refer to me instead as “Darling.” It was also around that time I began to realize that aside from our differing views on what constitutes a proper dessert (and I still won’t touch pistachio flavored ice cream), that Grandpa and I had a lot in common.

Since moving across the country 8 years ago, it’s been difficult to visit my grandparents often. Years have even passed in which I don’t get to see them and that pains me. However, the highlight of many weeks has been Friday morning when I’d call and hear Grandma’s or Grandpa’s voice on the receiving end and could say “It’s Michelle; I just called to wish you a Good Shabbos.” The phone calls are never long and often we'd only talk about the weather—but for a few minutes that erased the 3,000 miles between us. In just a few hours, the sun would set in the east coast and a few hours after that, in the west coast. Somehow, a warm greeting over the phone has brought us together for Shabbos each week.

Sometimes, despite my better intentions, I’ve missed a week. Then there is often a message on my phone come Sunday. My favorite message was one in which Grandpa said “It’s your Grandpa and Grandma. The time in New York is now 6:46. No, the clock just changed and now it says 6:47. Anyhow…we didn’t hear from you…” I think that’s the first time I realized that our little phone calls meant as much to him as they did to me.

Last year, my rabbi here in Spokane, WA made a trip to Florida. While he was there, he met my grandparents for lunch. He made a point to contact me from Florida right afterward and tell me what special people my grandparents are and how lucky I am to have them. He is absolutely right. When he got back to Spokane, he said that again, and added that I am a lot like them and that I look like my Grandma. It was a huge compliment as I so greatly admire the kindness, warmth and generosity of my grandparents and Grandma is a beautiful woman!

For years now, my grandparents have mailed a note to me every month. I’ve saved nearly every single letter. Like our phone conversations, they are short and sweet. Often, there is vital information about current weather conditions. This year in September, Grandpa wanted to know if I’d made any new friends at school. I’m 26 years old, but knowing how important that is to him, I got right on it and joined a club on my college campus. Usually the letter comes after the first of the month. Given that they were traveling and how sick Grandpa had been feeling, I really didn’t expect to get one at the usual time this month. However, the letter came early. It was dated October, 28 and in addition to the usual greeting, Grandpa added at the end: Thank you so much for your phone calls. I hope he knew and that Grandma realizes how much it means to me to hear their voices and to feel for a few minutes of the week like I’m not 3,000 miles away from them.

My hope and prayer in this time is that my Grandma feel and know the love and support she has, that my family will heal and grow from this loss, and that I may live my life in a way that would bring honor and remembrance to the incredible man my Grandpa was.