Thursday, September 19, 2013

5 Second Chef: BBQ Sandwiches

   

  Football games = sitting around watching football games and eating.
       Remember our goal: Keep entertaining, despite numerous aches and pains.  You could make easy Sloppy Joes - a real yawner if your crowd is past adolescence. Instead, consider making a more interesting apple barbecue chicken sandwich - it's just as easy, and also healthier.
       
       Boneless chicken breasts are simmered for hours in a "homemade" barbecue sauce, then shredded and served on buns. For a great fall meal, serve the sandwiches with coleslaw, baby carrots, chips and brownies.

Apple Barbecue Chicken Sandwiches

(serves 4 but  can be doubled, tripled, etc.)

Ingredients

1 1/2 pounds boneless skinless chicken breasts, cut into chunks (if you have problems with your hands, put uncut chicken filets in the slow cooker and shred when the chicken is tender; that's easier on joints.)
1/ 1/4 cups barbecue sauce (I use Stubbs)
1/2 cup unsweetened applesauce
1 apple, sliced
Thinly sliced onion (optional)
Shredded Cheddar cheese (optional)
At least 4 hamburger buns or ciabatta rolls  (gluten free folks can substitute rice)

Directions

1. Spray medium size slow cooker with Pam.
2. In a small bowl, mix barbecue and apple sauces. Add apple and onion slices, if using.
3. Put chicken in slow cooker, top with sauce. Sauce should almost cover chicken.
4. Cook chicken for several hours (depends on size of chicken chunks and temperature of cooker; low heat will take about 3-4 hours. 
5. Serve on toasted buns - if you like, top chicken mixture with shredded reduced fat cheddar cheese, then put on top half of bun.

Leftovers  store well.







Thursday, September 12, 2013

Joy in the Morning




   Joy: It's as potent as the strongest prescription pain reliever.
  You see, each week  I run a raucous "Reading Club"  at an inner city Ohio school. It's the kind of school that offers both free breakfasts and free lunches because the children come from families that are (choose one or more) very poor/disorganized/ neglectful/in another bad situation. It's depressing to think about what these kids don't have, and uplifting to do a little bit to help.

    I love what I do!

   I read lots of fun stories - ones featuring mischievous characters and animals are the biggest hits - and give out a treat because "reading is sweet." My helper  of the day gets to tear open my gift-wrapped Mystery Word and keep my pile of books straight.

  There are lots of cheers and enthusiasm. The teacher has tipped me off about a couple of children who have especially tough situations; I am able to give them a little TLC with an extra smile, by adapting a book to include a child's situation, etc.

   I get to be creative, to actually do something to help the world instead of just bitching about the world's always growing problems. I also get a TON of little kid hugs, which, as a mom of two teens, is great. In a teeny- tiny way, I also get to help the teacher with her awesome goal of making first grade positive.
   And, there's an amazing perk: total distraction from any pain I may be experiencing. 



                                  If You Don't Have a Source of Joy, You Can Get One.


Think about what you like to do - not what you  should like to do, but what you really like to do. 
Think about your personal values. Do you have a passion for justice? A love of beauty or        
     animals? Again, try think about what you actually value.   Call your local volunteer hotline or center to see what opportunities exist. Sunday newspaper  feature sections also offer volunteer jobs. Apply only for jobs that truly interest you; even if a job stuffing envelopes is for a good cause, if you hate stuffing envelopes, you will focus on your pain.
    

 Before you sign up for a job, make sure the volunteer director understands you have pain      
     problems that ebb and flow. Don't spend a minute being more uncomfortable than you have to be: 
     It's OK to skip a day now and then - if it won't be, it's not the job for you.



       

   

  

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Taming Frustration






     Frustration: I know you as well as I do my swollen finger joints.

     I feel you when my life seems like one big "I can't do that anymore."
     When it hurts to walk.
     When I can't lift heavy stuff.
     When it's hard to use a regular mouse or even to use regular keyboard.

     When I feel my body rebelling, my mood-o-meter goes to semi-low. I can pick myself up by remembering a line from one of my favorite self- help books of all time: Coming Back, by Ann Kaiser Sterns, Ph.D., (Ballatine Books, 1989.)

      Stearns writes of real people who faced a variety of crises and learned to cope, to achieve  the best life within reach.  I love that phrase; it both acknowledges the unique limitations of someone's life, but also promotes a sense of optimistic goal setting.

     For example, this morning my knee is killing me. So, I can't briskly walk around the neighborhood for 30 minutes like I want to do.  I can do my knee exercises, work through an exercise video sitting down, plan my visit to a classroom tomorrow,  outline a freelance writing assignment and finish grocery shopping.
   In other words, I can shoot for the best life within reach - for today.





Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Thou Shalt Be Comfortable

Beautiful, but a person with a painful knee will have trouble with those stairs.


      Stand up, sit down. Repeat ad infinitum.
     For a person who has arthritis or other chronic pain, it can be hard to attend religious services with all those ups and downs.
     The Jewish new year, Rosh Hashana, starts on Thursday.   Among my preparations are stirring some fragrant chicken matzo ball soup and baking sweet smelling honey cake.
     Also, I will scout my  closet to find a dress that will look good - OK, at least not hideous - with flat shoes. And I will figure out how to better deal with the service itself, instead of doing my usual "tough it out" approach.
     After all, it's not like I use a wheelchair or have any other obvious physical limitation.  By not getting up and down, I feel I draw attention to myself, and not in a good way.
     It's time to change, to make a choice.
     I can sit in the regular seating and just not get up very much or I can sit at the back of the room, which has folding chairs. Either way, I will be both self-conscious and much more comfortable. Maybe, by my example, other silent sufferers will be encouraged  to pray without pain.
     I am fortunate that my synagogue is designed to accomodate people with mobility problems. There are ramps and elevators, as well as stairs.
     I am not sure that is the case for all congregations. Research has repeatedly shown that people with disabilities attend religious services less than the able bodied. We can make an educated guess as to why.

     Are you comfortable attending services at your church or synagogue?
     If not, what can you do to make your experience less painful?




Monday, September 2, 2013

Pain takes a holiday

 We're on the  way to Pittsburgh, for a family fun overnight. Pittsburgh is very hilly, and my left knee is throwing a major tantrum.

Planning .....planning.   First off, The Carnegie Museum of Natural History, which has marble floors. Hmm....last I heard, marble isn't the most arthritis friendly of walking surfaces.
So, I pack like I am going on an expedition. Packing meds, several kinds of knee supports, Lidoderm patches and a strong antiinflammatory  that I seldom take. Oh, and I also check the website to see if there are loaner wheelchairs - just in case.

Four hours later, as I am walking to the exit of the Carnegie, I realize that my knee does not hurt much.
What? 
Impossible!

The next day, I have the same lessening of pain, despite touring the National Aviary (go see it!) and shopping at Ikea.
The only thing I can think of is that I was so totally absorbed in the sights and sounds of my trip, my focus was completely off the pain. 
Lesson learned:  Plan for the worst, but don't cancel plans because of pain. You never know.