My mum arrives at SFO on Monday. M dashes down to collect her from his hectic day at ‘Appnation‘. He’s hoping to collect her, bring her home and then zoom back into the city for the speakers dinner, but alas, British Airways has spectacularly messed up and failed to bring along the luggage of about half of the people on my mums plane and as as result there is no quick exit through immigration, customs, and luggage pick-up. M is patient. He waits and waits and waits, misses his dinner, entertains mother-in-law on the drive home and still manages a smile. Today, he is my hero.
Without giving my mum much time to breathe, I drag her – still wearing the clothes she traveled in (bless her) – off to accompany me for my MRI the next day. OK. If anyone out there likes MRI’s then there is something seriously wrong with you! Those things are bloody awful. Not only do I get stabbed about to fit an IV for the contrast ‘stuff’, but I also feel as if I’m on an emotional roller coaster. The ‘what if’ factor. What if they do find something? What if I drank one to many glasses of wine above my 3-a-week, post breast cancer quota? What if I haven’t been eating enough fruit and veg. What if????
Luckily the ‘what if’s’ preoccupy so much of my mind, that the ordeal of the MRI is soon over. As she tells me that there is only one more 7 minute session to go, I find myself thinking “only 3 more chapters of a Captain Underpants book. Not bad.” Ok. That is an indication of the fact that we are reading way to much Captain Underpants in our household right now if I’m even beginning to measure time by the length of the chapters. Sad, but true. C would be proud of me.
2 more weeks until I see my surgeon and get my results. Fingers crossed. Subject closed.
I have a stomp up the Miwok trail in the fog on Wednesday after dropping C off at school. I’m liberated by the fact that T can stay home and hang with his grandma and so I feel that throwing the ball in the park for the dog wouldn’t do this slice of freedom any justice. I underestimate quite how foggy and eerie it will be up there and I’m kind of freaked out by the weird micro climates going on within yards of each other. At one point it’s raining, but it’s only raining over 1 tree and then it stops again. Now that is weird. It’s also pretty breathtaking, but I’m not sure I’ll repeat that walk again on such a foggy morning.
We then head into San Fran and go to Loehmann’s to try and find clothes for my mum. Still no suitcase. I – of course – do spectacularly well there at finding things for myself, but my mum doesn’t have the same success. She end up by some nice pants in Ann Taylor next door and then we head home again. T gets a giant gluten filled croissant as a treat for being so patient while we shop. we tell him not to tell C. Does anyone out there have a recipe, or a source, for gluten free croissants?
That afternoon, I’m amazed at the conversation in the back of my car between the 2 7 year olds that I’m ferrying to tennis practice. It starts with a conversation about baseball. THen moves on to Barry Bonds and within seconds is centering around why Barry Bonds was bad because he took drugs. C has obviously never heard the word ‘drugs’ before and asks “what are drugs?”. I dread the answer, but it’s actually quite a good one. “Drugs make you strong, but they are really bad for your body and you are bad if you take them”. Phew. I’d really hopes that I could save the drugs conversation until middle school.
Prompted by my lovely friend Cale, I make g-free meatballs that evening, so that I can share the recipe. Here it is:
2lbs ground (minced) beef
1 onion, finely chopped
salt and pepper
1. mix all of the ingredients in a bowl
2. make meatball sized balls out of the mix (it should hold together well. Add g-free breadcrumbs if too sticky)
3. fry in olive oil
4. Serve with or without tomato sauce. (we ate one batch with baked rosemary potatoes and another on polenta with tomato sauce)