Fudgesicle
In yet another attempt to find a trigger for my migraines I decided to try a dairy-free diet for a month. The first week is a flop, as this is day 5 of a migraine. And truth be told, it is hard to make the switch. I unthinkingly ordered two iced cappuccinos from Timmy’s when I took Mom out for a drive last Monday. And another time put butter on my toast, and didn’t remember until after eating it that I shouldn’t have done that.
One of the things I miss most – and I’ll blame my California kids for this – is frozen yogurt. Just a little serving after supper…
I went online to find dessert recipes that don’t require milk or cream. I came upon this recipe: Chocolate Banana Tofu Pudding.
I picked up a bunch of too ripe bananas on sale and spent part of my afternoon making cookies, muffins and pudding. Then I dug out the old Tupperware popsicle molds.Not quite the same as frozen yogurt, but I think I could get used to this.
Hands
“…Don’t it always seem to go
You don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone…”
Joni Mitchell, Big Yellow Taxi
So often, we who are able-bodied totally ignore the blessing that strong healthy bodies are. This was brought forcefully home to me again this week as I struggle with my unique allergy.
Starting back in the summer I was ten, in fact just after this family picture was taken, I first experienced the rash and painful blisters on my hands. A visit to the doctor brought a diagnosis of poison ivy. And perhaps it was. But every year after that it would happen again. How could I always get into poison ivy when none of my ever siblings did?
Finally, the summer Simon was one year old, before heading out on vacation, I visited a doctor again. Our family doctor was away so I saw another young doctor. He decided it was athlete’s foot and scrapped my hands, nearly sending me through the roof, and irritating my hands further. By the next day the blisters left no spaces between my fingers. I couldn’t dress myself, feed myself, do anything that required the use of my hands. And what can you do without using your hands? The next evening I sat at a picnic table at our campsite and awkwardly holding a sterilized razer blade opened the bubbles to relieve the pressure.
As we were now near Windsor, Ontario, on our way to Peoria, Illinois, we stopped at an emergency clinic. Thankfully the doctor there was a little wiser than the previous one. He told me immediately that it was dyshidrotic eczema, gave me pills that dried up the blisters within two days, and encouraged me to see an allergist when I got home. Thankfully, because of this man, we all were able to enjoy the rest of our trip.
I did see an allergist. There I was told a number of grasses and weeds that I am allergic to, and told that they could not test for all so there are likely more. I was also told that because it appears on my palms and soles it is likely not contact dermatitis, but coming from the inside out, the pollens that I inhale. Since that time I am usually well able to keep the symptom under control with antihistamines and hydrocortisone creme.
Until this year. I’m experiencing the worst outbreak I’ve had since discovering what plagues me. The antihistamines are not working well. I got a new prescription for a stronger creme. My hands hurt long before any blisters form; it feels like the very bones are aching. And once the blisters start to form my hands feel like pins and needles jabbing. Very unpleasant! And though worse than I’ve had for many years, the condition isn’t nearly as bad as it can be.
So once again I am reminded of how essential my hands are, how many things I need them for, how wonderful and how fragile is this body of mine.