Scratch Cooking December 18th

Sometimes something really devastating happens and all you can do is offer a shoulder to cry on, a cup of tea, a plate of food. Yesterday was one of those days.

I went with my friend, the one fighting pancreatic cancer, to an appointment with a surgeon. Her oncologist was sure she would be eligible for surgery soon. The surgeon not only said no, it's not possible, but that he wasn't optimistic that she would ever be eligible for surgery because of the location of her tumor on the artery. It felt like a death sentence.

We sat in the examining room for a while after and I just held her hand and rubbed her back and she cried. Then another friend came - we call ourselves the A team - and the three of us sat outside the office and just group hugged for a while. I called Robin's brother to tell him what was going on. 

Then I got pissed. Pissed at her oncologist for not reading the scan before she went to see the surgeon, pissed at the surgeon for doing what surgeons do, which is basing his assessment on the information at hand, and pissed at the whole situation. I wanted to go to her oncologist's office and demand that he give us a little bit of hope.

I tried to comfort her, but it's hard. I do think that the fight isn't over yet. She's been in chemo for a year which is a long time, but the tumor has shrunk in that time and maybe in another 6 months to a year, it will shrink enough to remove it. And she is really doing great. Side effects, yes, but compared to many people in chemo for that long, she is doing fantastic. Despite her feeling very low energy for her, she does more than most people do on a good day without being in treatment. But still, she just wants the chemo to be over and I can understand that. I was only in chemo for 3 months, but if I had been told I needed to continue for more than a year, I'm not sure I could have endured.

I didn't want her to be alone, so I took her to lunch. We had a good laugh when she asked what she should get her oncologist for the holidays and I suggested a lump of coal. We talked about how she can fill her life right now to make things feel more normal without over taxing herself. Then we each went to our respective acupuncture appointments (yes, very LA I know) from which I came away with a tea that I am supposed to drink three times a day that smells like gerbil food and tastes like rat poison. I'm choking it down, though, as the acupuncturist promised it will help with the rash and other lupus symptoms.

My friend went to get some support at the local Wellness Community where she used to work. It has a lot to do with why she and I are friends, too. We met at a Passover seder when I first moved to Los Angeles. When she told me she worked at the Wellness Community, I told her that I used to go to the one in Boston for support when I had ovarian cancer. We have been close friends ever since!

Afterwards, my friend picked up some sole at the local fish store and brought it over and I made a dinner of a variation on sole meuniere, carmelized brussels sprouts and turnips, and buttered rice.

The rice is just regular rice, only I throw a tablespoon of butter in with the water, rice, salt and pepper. My daughter loves it!

The Brussels sprouts and turnips I cut up and sauteed in a few tablespoons of olive oil until they were nice and carmelized.

For the fish, I sauteed about 1/2 cup slivered almonds in 3 tabelspoons of butter for a couple minutes. I added some salt and pepper and the sole fillets. I cooked them for a few minutes on each side and before they were done, I added 1/4 cup key lime juice and let it cook for a few more minutes. It gave it a really nice citrus flavor. You can use lemon juice or regular lime juice, too.

Dinner was delicious and when all was said and done, we were both in a better place. There's no denying that food can be comfort and sometimes it's one of the only comforts to be had.