The Mayo Adventure, part 1

As promised, I wrote about my trip to the Mayo Clinic at the beginning of September. It's a looong post, so it's getting broken up into several parts. 

The Trip to Rochester

Our Mayo Clinic adventure started out auspiciously. The trip from my apartment to Rochester, MN is, theoretically, a little over three hours. My mom set out early from Chicago to pick me up and we continued the journey, through Wisconsin countryside that always surprises me in its beauty. We crossed over the mighty Mississippi river and drove past the town where my father grew up, and it was a serene, interesting drive. Even stopping for lunch halfway through we made it to Rochester in good time, tired after the drive (her more than me, since she did all the driving!) but in good spirits. We navigated through Rochester with relative ease, until we came to a quaint house in a quiet subdivision---our castle for the next week.

The House

The house was one we rented through AirBnB, and it was gorgeous. We couldn’t have asked for a nicer place to come back to, and as our stay drew on, we became ever more grateful for the peaceful space to decompress. One of the co-owners met us as we drove up to his property. An overwhelmingly polite Midwestern man, he told us that he had been a pilot for most of his life, doing emergency flights to and from the Mayo Clinic. After one too many winters flying to Fargo in the middle of the night during a blizzard, he decided he’d had enough of the airborne life, and took a job at Mayo in their aerospace division, where he helped facilitate health screenings and care for pilots. He told us that his partner and co-owner was a pilot as well, laughing slightly as he did so, presumably at the improbability of two pilots settling down in a quiet town in Minnesota and opening a(n Air)BnB together. He gave us a thorough tour of the house, which offered more than enough space for the two of us. The kitchen was well-equipped for basic (and not-so-basic) cooking, the unit came with a fancy “smart” washer and dryer, and the ground floor bedroom had, across from it, a small room with a TV and a recliner. He told us that many people who stayed with him were in town for the same reason we were, and many of them were older, often with mobility issues, and the recliner provided an option for those who couldn’t sleep supine. For me, the room was a perfect “insomnia room”---insomniacs are often advised not to spend any more time than necessary in their bedroom. If they’re not sleeping, they should be elsewhere, so that the only association with their bedroom was sleep. The room across the hall presented itself as an ideal haven for my sleepless nights, though I was hoping (optimistically as it turned out) that I wouldn’t have much trouble in that regard.

The house had a cozy living room, with a Smart TV that offered more features than I really felt was necessary in a TV, but that I naturally explored right away. The living room was stocked with basic board games and a variety of delightfully nerdy BlueRay discs, including the entire series of The Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, Harry Potter, and Indiana Jones, earning the owners my instant approval. The house was decorated beautifully, complimenting earthy tones with splashes of color, and giving many of the rooms individual themes---aviation, for my bedroom, Parisian art for my mother’s, and for the insomnia room, retro-style comic book art, done by a friend of the owners. They even provided a welcome gift bag for us, full of instant oatmeal, fruit snacks, crackers, and water bottles, all of which proved highly useful during the long days at Mayo. We settled in, and made a grocery run, driving by the clinic so we would know exactly where it was we were going the next day, for our 7:30am appointment. Tired, we went to sleep early, but neither of us slept well---in what would turn out to be the theme of the week.

The Clinic

The Mayo Clinic itself is an immense facility, spread over several buildings, the largest of which is 21 stories tall with rounded sides extending up its 93 meters. It towers over an idyllic courtyard, across from which is an open air mall/restaurant strip that leads into the University of Minnesota-Rochester shopping area. The two major buildings, Gonda and Mayo, are connected to one another in an awkward fusion that facilitates moving between different departments in different buildings, but has the effect of making it look from the outside like the taller, sleeker Gonda is eating the shorter, squarer Mayo.

The inside of the Gonda and Mayo buildings, where we spent all of our time, was clearly designed with serenity and tranquility in mind. The main level has a long, marble and glass passageway, populated by the coffee and gift shop, the cafeteria, rows of comfortable couches and end tables, and a grand piano that was nearly always in use, occasionally with choral accompaniment. Each wing of the Gonda/Mayo amalgamation was home to one or two individual departments. We spent most of our time traveling between GI (Mayo 12), Neurology (Mayo 8) and the Sleep Clinic (Gonda 17), which meant we learned the layout of the buildings pretty quickly. The departments were equipped with large, often quite full, waiting areas, and we soon learned why. As it turns out it was not at all unusual for patients to spend six hours a day in the waiting room of a particular department, their names on a list to get an appointment should another patient not show up for theirs. We had our own share of waiting, but more on that later. The waiting rooms in the Gonda building were more impressive than those in Mayo. The huge glass walls presented a stunning panoramic view of Rochester and the hills and valleys in the distance. The room itself was full of plush couches, convenient end tables, walls full of pamphlets for patients to read (How To Cope with Chronic Pain; Caring for a Loved One with Chronic Illness; Tips for Managing Stress…and so on) and a row of computers where patients could log onto their Mayo Clinic patient profile to check their appointment schedules and message their doctors. The Sleep Clinic was equipped with a number of jigsaw puzzles, several half-complemented, and magazines in towering stacks, well-loved by the hundreds of patients who came through the Sleep Clinic each month.  We got to know the Sleep Clinic well, and the view from the 17^th floor of the Gonda building, looking out over the city and to the wilds beyond, was one of the highlights of the trip.

A Year of New Experiences

Well, clearly I was not so good at updating during my hiatus. Are we surprised? No? Yeah, okay, that's fair!

I'm planning a fairly long post (or possible multiple posts) about the reason for my hiatus: a family trip to Holland and Norway. Spoilers: it was awesome. For today, though, here's a bit of a reflective post.

I turned 24 last Friday. In many ways, 23 wasn't a great year for me. I quit a job for the first time. I quit a job for the second time. I had my first ER visit, closely followed by my second ER visit. I had my first MRI, my second MRI, my first elimination diet, my second elimination diet, and so on. I dropped my first course, had my first car die, and mourned the loss of my first, longest, and biggest hero. At first, when I looked back on my year, it was kind of hard to get all that excited about it. For much of this year, I felt like a failure. I felt like I had accomplished nothing. I felt like I had given up so many things that I should have pursued. Now, almost all of these disappointments were directly linked to being ill, so I recognized on some level that it wasn't necessarily any great weakness of spirit that was my shortcoming, but rather the it was the inevitable manifestation of the unforseen side effects of Mystery Illness. After a point, however, it became hard to console myself with that reminder. I beat myself up for allowing myself to become a victim of circumstance. Even if I couldn't control my illness, certainly I could control my life, so really, what was my excuse? To a certain extent I think this is true, and to a certain extent I think it's untrue, and probably not fair to myself. But that's an entirely different issue. The point is, I was struggling to find any reason to be proud of the past year, and I felt like I had nothing positive to show for it.

But yesterday, I received something in the mail, and with it a much needed change of perspective. An envelope addressed to me showed up along with the weekly ads and junk mail, and inside it was a check. From my client, for whom I am doing some promotional blogging for his novels. 

I had just received my first paycheck as a freelance writer.

This brought on a degree of pride and satisfaction far greater than I had expected, and even more importantly, it got me thinking about all of the other "firsts" of the past year. Not all of them were positives, clearly, as shown above. But a lot of them were, and a lot of them were pretty big, too. They just got lost in the mire of my disappointments, and I focused on all of the wrong things. 

Some of these achievements are big. Some are small. Some are personal, some are professional, and some are silly. All of them, however, are important to me, and I am grateful for them all.

With that in mind, here's another list:

Raven's 15 Firsts of the Past Year

1.) First paycheck as a freelance writer

2.) First paycheck as a freelance web designer

3.) First experience as a video game journalist

4.) First blog (thanks guys!)
5.) First post-college classes (even if had to drop one of them, I learned a lot from both, and am proud of myself for continuing my education.)
6.) First time writing my own functional code (since I'm not willing to count the tinkering I did in high school and college as "functional")

7.) First full year in my own apartment ("own" meaning I pay rent, not that I live alone, in this case)

8.) First time living alone with a significant other

9.) First new car (see how I turned one of my negatives into a positive? Perspective!)

10.) First trip to my family cottage without my parents or any other family members (one of the big signs of adulthood in my family)

11.) First out-of-town nerd convention (going to cons is one thing, but traveling and renting a hotel room for them? A whole different experience!)

12.) First watercolor painting (Paintings of maps count, right?)

13.) First penpal!

14.) First time being a regular at a comic book shop (It's a big deal to me, okay?)

15.) First experience with being self-employed (It's terrifying! And rewarding!)

And as a super special bonus, two weeks ago I met my incredibly sweet cousin for the first time, right before he turned a year old. I love that kid!

There's a Hebrew prayer that is said upon experiencing something for the first time, the Shehecheyanu (שהחינו‎). I'm not particularly spiritual, but this prayer has always resonated with me:

 בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם שֶׁהֶחֱיָנוּ וְקִיְּמָנוּ וְהִגִּיעָנוּ לזְּמַן הַזֶּה.

Blessed are you, Eternal God, Sovereign of the universe, who has given us life, sustained us, and helped us to reach this moment. 

Thanks for reading.

P.S. The project that has consumed a very large part of the past year isn't quite wrapped up like I had hoped it would be by now. I won't say anymore just yet (though if we've talked much in the past year you probably know about it) but it definitely introduced a whole slew of new experiences, and I am very excited to tell you about it, I hope soon!

Festivities

Owl mentioned in her last post that Tuesday was a pretty special day for us. I love taking time to celebrate important events, like anniversaries and birthdays, in a large part because I believe that being actively grateful for good things that have happened is a good practice, but also, because celebrations generally come hand in hand with food.

There's a common Jewish saying: All holidays can be summed up simply, "they tried to kill us, we won, let's eat!" This has always resonated with me. I like the philosophy that we should not spend all our time grieving for the bad things that have happened to us, but rather we should celebrate the victories, and look forward to many more. I love that the culture I grew up in wholeheartedly embraced the idea that life was a joyous and wonderful thing, and that even in hard times, we should rejoice in what we have, and be mindful of all the good there is in the world.

But more than that, I love food. I love how integral it is to so many different aspects of our life. Beyond simply needing nutrients to survive, we as a collective species and as individual communities and cultures have elevated food above a vital resource for our continued survival. Food is inexorably bound with culture, art, community, and expression. A shared meal is one of the firmest and most universal expressions of togetherness and unity. The food we eat, the way we prepare it, how we structure our meals, all help define us as people, both individually and as part of a community. I love the creativity that goes into truly inspired meal planning.

As I have struggled with Mystery Illness, my relationship with food has changed. In some ways it has evolved. I have become more mindful of what I eat, how I eat it, and when. I have developed more patience for preparing meals and for purchasing ingredients. I have built healthier eating habits. It has also challenged my relationship with food, however. I often have little to no appetite. I sometimes go days without a full meal, just eating small  things here and there, because my body just can't handle the thought of food. I have had to try restricting and aggravating diets, which have made meals a frustrating and unpleasant experience, instead of cherished and leisurely culinary adventures, as the best meals should be.

Lately it has seemed as though we were on the brink of some breakthroughs with Mystery Illness. I've had a few good weeks. It's possible that I even have a diagnosis, making the Mystery Illness somewhat less of a mystery. But in the past few days, I've been nearly as sick as I was before the improvement began. It's been disheartening, but I am still hopeful.

Part of what has kept me hopeful is the memory of the last Good Meal I had this week before Mystery Illness began coming round knocking again. The last Good Meal I've had this week was the birthday dinner I prepared for Owl. The whole day, in fact, was filled with good food, and instead of dwelling on how poorly I've been feeling I want to focus on what it felt like to rediscover how amazing it was to be cooking creatively and passionately again. I thought I would share with you some of the highlights from Tuesday's culinary adventures.

I started out Tuesday by bringing Owl breakfast in bed. Normally breakfast and I don't get on, since for whatever reason I generally feel sickest when I first wake up, which is highly unfortunate because breakfast foods are some of my favorites. So I had a wonderful time cooking for Owl, since even though I didn't have much of an appetite myself, I could still go through the process of making the food, with no expectations of having to eat it myself. Often, I like the cooking even better than I like the consuming, so this was actually a very relaxing experience for me.

I fried up some bacon for Owl, and then used a slice of bread to soak up the bacon grease and browned the bread in the pan---a truly evil luxury that Owl and I only save for special occasions because seriously, panfried bacon toast is not your heart's friend. I used some hedgerow jam from the local farmer's market on it, and added some tupelo honey to the top. After that I started on a monster omelet, which was the best part by far of the process for me. I love making omelets, a lot more than I like eating them. Eggs in high density, like in omelets, tend to be hard on my stomach, especially for breakfast, but if I can brag for just a moment, I do make some mean eggs, even if I can't always enjoy them myself. This particular omelet was made with sharp cheddar cheese, Nova Scotia lox, basil leaves, fresh green scallions, rosemary, sage, and some minced garlic.

We had spent the night before making some infused ice cubes, since summer means iced tea. We made a whole bunch, and they came out pretty well. The first batch was mint and lavender, and the second, lemon juice and basil leaves. Finally we broke out our excellent ThinkGeek ice cube trays:  lavender with a blackberry in the middle of each went into the Darth Vader tray, lime juice went into the Space Invaders, and iced mocha into the Han Solo in carbonite trays. Incidentally, I really recommend the ThinkGeek trays. They're all made from food grade silicone, so they're very flexible and it's easy to get the ice out. They have a bunch with different characters and if you ever want to get creative with your beverages, this is a fun way to touch them up a bit!

After breakfast we made some green tea with lemon honey and mint, and added the mint and lavender ice cubes. Then we made a pot of black tea, using a mix of Earl Grey and Prince of Wales since we are heathens. We added a good deal of buckwheat honey and some lavender, and used the mint and lavender cubes in here as well, adding a few dashes of vanilla extract as an afterthought. They were both pretty delicious, and we make a point of drinking them out of mason jars whenever possible, because homebrewed iced tea and mason jars just feels like there right pairing.

Dinner that night was a lot of fun to make. Owl was even kind enough to let me do the cooking---she made her own birthday cake, while I made us dinner. I made Ahi Tuna rubbed with rosemary, ginger, mustard seeds, coriander, allspice, Ceylon cloves, cracked bay leaves, and Thai chiles. (Aside from the rosemary and ginger, the rest of the spices were from a spice blend originally meant for crab boils. I have never used it for this purpose, but I find the blend wonderful for so many other occasions.) These were served with crab cakes, though I admit to not making them myself. We got premade crab cakes, and I simply had to cook them, then add some lime to the top for a bit of a kick. I steamed up some spinich and mustard greens, cooked them with butter and red wine, and added some garlic. While the tuna was cooking I sauteed some Cremini mushrooms, shallots, and green peppers, and added them to the steamed greens.

Owl's part of the meal was, in my opinion, the best. She wanted to make either chocolate cupcakes or a chocolate cake, but we ended up having enough batter that she made both. They're both chocolate cakes with dark chocolate and raspberry frosting, and they are absolutely stunning. The cake itself as a ring of blackberries as well as of strawberries, and I really love the little raspberry crowns on all of the cupcakes!

I had an amazing time on Tuesday both cooking and eating food. That hasn't happened in awhile, and it was amazing to be back in the kitchen, cooking food for fun and for a special occasion, instead of doing so as a chore when I have no appetite and no energy. I enjoyed every minute of it, and I'm going to make more of an effort to cook like this more often, Mystery Illness or no.

Owl, it's been a really amazing four years. Thank you for spending them with me. And once again, happy birthday!

I hope my ramblings about food and about my own cooking weren't too boring for you all. This just feels like a fairly major achievement for me, in light of all that has been happening, and I wanted to share it with you. Plus, I'm really proud of the meal I made, and I even took pictures to show it off! If you are reading this and you are a person that I ever get to see in Real Life, you should let me cook for you sometime. It will make me immensely happy, and I'm actually pretty good at it, much to my own surprise.

Thanks for reading. Now I'm hungry! Mmmm, cake.