Clafouti II & III

The first clafouti is one by Martha Stewart and which I've modified for low carbs. The recipe is as follows, my changes in red. It is delicious. I have a slice (1/6 th of pie) every morning for breakfast.

Officially, it is considered a clafouti only if cherries are used, otherwise it is considered a floginarde. Personally, I like the word clafouti, so in this space, I will be referring to this recipe, regardless of fruit type, as a clafouti. I think you'll like it.

CLAFOUTI II

Unsalted butter, for dish ( or spray like Pam; I use a standard glass pie pan 9")

2 large eggs
1 large egg yolk I used 3 whole eggs
1/3 cup all-purpose flour equivalent amount of almond flour
3/4 cup creme fraiche, plus more for serving I used sour cream
3/4 cup whole milk I used 2% milk
1/2 cup granulated sugar I used Target's knockoff brand Splenda Baking Mix
2 teaspons pure vanilla  I use a tablespoon and a half
1/2 teaspon salt
12 ounces cherries, halved and pitted I used fresh raspberries, about 6 ounces

I have also added the zest of a whole lemon--very good with raspberries--and cinnamon both with and without fruit. It was very good with peaches when they were in season.

DIRECTIONS

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Butter a 9-inch baking dish, 1 1/4 inches deep. Coat with granulated sugar; tap out excess. (I do not recommend this.) Whisk eggs, yolk, and flour in a medium bowl; whisk in creme fraiche, milk, granulated sugar, vanilla, and salt.

Arrange cherries in prepared dish. I scatter my berries over the top after pouring batter into dish. Strain batter over cherries (I didn't bother). Bake until browned around edges and set in the center, 30 to 35 minutes. Let cool slightly. Serve warm with creme fraiche or, if you're me, whipped cream.

I simply put everything into a blender, blend for 30 seconds, pour into butter pie pan, scatter berries or other fruit over the top, and bake as directed. Delish! Note: The clafouti will puff up, almost like a souffle, and then deflate after cooling--this is normal. Store in fridge. I like to warm up my breakfast slice for about 20-30 seconds in the nuker; it just makes it more flavorful.

CLAFOUTI III

I made the same recipe as above, however, I got it mixed up in my head with my first, much earlier clafouti recipe and I made the following differences:

six whole eggs
10 ounces milk
2 ounces heavy whipping cream

This made a very crusty, sweet clafouti that I think I like more than either of the previous two. It is also more protein heavy. I was out of berries, so I added cinnamon and it is very good. Berries is better, but it is still very good without them.

Cheers!

Quick & Dirty

Hi, I still don't have my laptop. So that's why I'm behind on my blogging. However... I do have two new clafouti recipes to put up and I think you'll really like them.

My financial issues have been sorted so thank you very much no donations or loans are needed. Thank you I hope to get my laptop on Monday so I can catch up. I have some good news also. Take care bye

I Need Help

I need $300-. It would be loan only. I will pay it back at the end of January. I have three important bills to pay, but I can't. One of them is eBay. If I could get that paid, I could start selling again and generating income.

I'm seriously freaking out.

My PayPal link is on the lower left of this blog. Thank you.

I'm happy to answer questions privately.

And no, my husband can't help me.

SJ

Outpatient Surgery Wednesday

It only took 4 months to get scheduled. *snort*

So I'm having a hysteroscopy and diagnostic d & c. Or what they call in the biz, a "dusting and cleaning."

I check in early, and hope to be done and headed home by lunchtime. I'll leave extra food and water for the kitties in case it turns into an overnight. I hope not.

I'm a little nervous, but hopeful that all will be well.

I'll check in tomorrow.

Cheers

How Do I Feel?

Like a wrinkly meat sack. Really. A very healthy sack of wrinkled meat. Although I'm not thrilled with this, I will take it over the alternative.

Ignore both my dirty rug and dirty feet--I was on my way to the shower. Those are my hot weather sleeping shorts. Very comfy.

Front view:

Side View.

Ongoing Tsuris With Iron Infusion

I’m tired. I mean…my ass is dragging. I started noticing it in the spring, and it’s just slowly gotten worse. Last December, when my husband and I moved into this house, he and I loaded and unloaded a 22 foot moving van by ourselves. And, in fact, I had more energy than my five-years-younger than me, former jock/marathon runner husband. Heh.

Not any more.

Yesterday I went to the dentist and had my dentures re-lined, and boy, do they fit much, much better. Outstanding. And the appointment took about five minutes.

After that I went to a local Starbucks, got a coffee, and spent two hours researching and writing a blog post for a client.

Then I had some lunch, I splurged and went to Panera, I love their food, especially the chicken Thai salad with peanut dressing. Num. My husband did not like their food.

Then I came home, grabbed my Kindle that I had forgotten, and then went into town and did laundry. I did two triple loaders, so six loads, of laundry. Three days ago I did my bedspread—that poor Snuffy had drooled all over. His mouth needs work—and three loads of whites—so all the laundry is now done. I hadn’t done laundry in about a month. LOL I don’t have as many dirty clothes as my husband does. If I don’t sweat all over it or spill on it, I hang it back up. Your clothes last longer not being exposed to those harsh detergents, plus? It’s a lot of work washing the same shit over and over and over again every few days.

I folded it, then went to the grocery for some yogurt—I’m obsessing on the new Dannon Light and Fit caramel apple pie yogurt and my local grocery is the only place I can find it. They were on sale, 4/$4.00, so I got eight, and one vanilla, and one Chobani 100 passion fruit. In case I might want something different. :-)

Then I came home, fed the kitties, freshened their waters, and then sat down on the couch to read. I woke up about 10:30 on the couch, foot recliner up, chin on chest, Kindle in my hand, drooling. I fell asleep on the couch. I haven’t done that for years. But doing all those errands kicked my ass. Just SO tired.

Last Thursday after therapy I went to the ER to see if I could 1. Get an iron infusion or 2. Get a referral to a hematologist.

As I sat at the light waiting for it to change, I could have made a left to go home just as easily as I could go straight to the hospital ER. I nearly went left. I probably should have.

I thought well, I’ll drive by and see how it looks. It looked nice enough, no hordes of people waiting outside, so I parked. I got inside, and the waiting area was FULL. I was standing there, indecisive, when a security guy—with a gun holstered on his thigh!—asked me if I needed help. I said I was thinking about checking in, but I wasn’t sure if they could help me and how long the wait would be. He joked that “I’ve seen it much, much worse. Ha ha ha.” Yeah...funny. *rolleyes*

Then the admitting person asked if she could help me. So I said, “Well, I don’t know if you can help me….” And I told my story of post-bariatric surgery iron deficient anemia, need an iron infusion, I have my labs (and two peer-reviewed articles on that very subject), and she nodded her head and had me fill out some papers, put a wristband on me, and told me to wait in the lobby.

I waited about 10 minutes before I saw the triage nurse. She took my vitals, I told her about my previous history, explaining, for the zillionth time about choroidal melanoma (it’s so rare, most healthcare providers, or anyone really) has ever heard of it, I noticed that people are turning to look at me, patients, nurses, and doctors alike, after I mentioned "cancer" and "eye" together; then gave her a list of my doctors, drugs, and supplements, and then a diagram from my DS surgeon showing how the DS is structured anatomically (see below). She looked at it and said, I shit you not, “Oh. The bypass,” referring to the RnY, which this most decidedly IS NOT. Not even close. I had to ‘splain it to her. My experience with ‘splaining to healthcare professionals, is that hey tend to cop an attitude because what the hell could I possibly know about medicine, an untrained professional?  (No, but I LIVE with it every day, so I might *possibly* know something, eh?) I don’t know what it is. I try to be friendly, courteous, gracious, saying please and thank you, if you don’t mind, and smile, smile, smile. Maybe I need to be a bitch? I don’t know.  So after that, I was moved to another part of the ER. So far I hadn't even been given the pretense of a curtained "room." Just right there in the aisle in front of G*d and everybody. They were full, so all these conversations were taking place in front of other patients and medical professionals. I wasn’t thrilled, but in my position, I’m not able to make demands. I was thinking in particular of the armed security guard. I’ve seen people who raise a stink get escorted out of the hospital by these guys. Not this hospital, but others, in the past.

So then this dude who looks likes Einstein and also a little lost, comes over and tells me he’s the doctor, they’re going to order some labs, and go from there.

So I get moved to another part of the crowded ER and a nurse comes in to take my blood. Just right where I was, in front of a curtqained exam “room,” in the “hallway” in a regular chair. We start talking and he tells me he had the RnY five years ago and he passed out from low iron and fell through his shower door, cutting himself bdaly, and having to go to the ER. He said he had been over 500 pounds. He looked like he was pushing about 300, so he’d kept most, but not all, of it off. But the important thing was he got me. Right up until he said, “they’ll give you some pills, hon, that will fix you right up.”

Sigh.

Maybe I should just write a letter with my needs and why with attached documentation and just pass it out, I swear to dog.

Back out to the lobby for more waiting.

In 10 minutes, I’m called back in to go over my insurance. “You have Blue Cross, right?”

“No. Medi-Cal.”

It’s like I didn’t talk to admissions at all, or they didn’t update their computer, or whatever. I did my part, but as usual, I’m the kiss of death for health care going the way it’s supposed to. Is it just me? Or is it everyone?

We get it sorted out, back to the lobby.

Ten minutes lter, Einstein takes me to the side of the hallway in front of the security desk, (HIPPA violation??) with the guard standing there, and tells me my labs look “fine” and that there is nothing they can do, they don’t have any hematologists they can refer me to. He then says I should go to XYZ hospital because “they don’t take Medi-Cal.”

“I don’t know where XYZ is.”

“It’s in bumfuck Egypt.”

“I don’t know where that is.”

“Well, they don’t take Medi-Cal there.”

“They do not?”
“NO, they do not.”

“They don’t take Medi-Cal?” He nods. “Why,” I say, “would you refer me somewhere that doesn’t take my insurance?”

“They do take Medi-Cal.”

“But you just said they don’t. Which is it?”

“They do, they do. You need to go there. There’s nothing we can do for you here.”

He handed me my labs and in a fit of pique I crumpled them up, put them in the trash and said, “What a waste of my time.” And I walked out. (I did this as in a dream--no aforethought, just action.)

In my own defense, I have recent copies of my labs already. I’m sure whatever they had done was close to what I already had.

It’s like…it’s like I hadn’t talked to any of those people about my concerns. “I don’t know if you can even help me…” I said this to every person I encountered there in the ER. Or have we partitioned work out to such a degree that one person gets the drinks, one gets the salads, another takes the order, a fourth brings the entrée, and then a totally different person brings dessert, and then the busboy brings coffee. You see what I’m saying? And none of them talk to each other. They only do what their part, or link, of the chain of events is necessary, nothing more. I felt like every step of the way one or all of them could have said, “It’s not my job….” And they would’ve been right.

So I guess what I need to do is go through the phone book and call every single goddamn hematologist in a 100 mile radius and see if they’ll take me. I don’t need a referral as I have straight Medi-Cal. Which reminds me, I need to call them to find out why they changed my account and gave it a new number and why I’ve received nothing in the mail including a new card. WTF?

And I’ve now spent three days trying to get a colonoscopy scheduled. I was given a referral by the new doctor I saw this week  (on his prescription pad) to a gastroenterology group, along with the phone number, no address. I called for an appointment, they need a copy of my records before they’ll schedule me. I called the referring doctor’s office yesterday and ask if they’ll fax over my medical records as requested, and they say they will. I called the GI group an hour ago and they still don’t have them. So I faxed over my copy of the referral along with my basic info (name, phone, bday, address), in hopes to get an appointment scheduled. I've not heard anything yet.

I’m telling you, this Medi-Cal stuff is almost like having a full time job; that’s how much time I spend on it sorting shit out. How do undereducated and/or ignorant people handle this? No wonder they have armed guards at health care and social service offices. They make it difficult, confusing, and labyrinthine, and people need help with often serious health issues, and you keep bumping into wall after wall.? I can see how a less patient or educated person could lose their shit easily and quickly. I know I have been occasionally tempted to cause a scene. It's that frustrating. You need help, and no one will give it to you.

Is this what Obama had in mind when he wanted everyone to have access to healthcare? Because the access part is not working. It is a HUGE pain in the ass. And if you already don’t feel well? It can sometimes feel insurmountable. And that’s how you end up with people in the ER with gangrenous feet that need to be amputated because they couldn’t navigate the bureaucratic maze that is an impediment to getting a small health issue taken care of until it becomes a big issue and next think you know? Off comes your foot. That’s an extreme example, but I’m sure it happens all the time.

I have nothing scheduled for today, so I was going to spend a day resting and relaxing but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen. I need to spend it on the phone, looking for the healthcare I need. Sigh.

That’s my story.

This is the business card my surgeon gives his patients to give to other healthcare providers. His contact info is on the reverse.

SF and Low Carb Pumpkin Pie

I love pumpkin pie, especially in the fall, which it has felt like the last few days--I even had a fire last night, very nice--even though there's a heat wave predicted for the weekend. And BOO!

So I love pumpkin...anything. Mostly because I like cinnamon, cloves, and smooth things like pudding, ice cream, and frappos.

So I decided to try and engineer my favorite pumpkin pie, the one on the back of a can of Libby's pumpkin and the one I grew up with so childhood memories/comfort food, into something low carb and sugar free.

You can see the original recipe HERE

The only changes I made were these:

• No crust (spray your pie pan with Pam or use butter to grease)
• Splenda in place of sugar -- equal amounts
• Heavy whipping cream instead of evaporated milk

Result? Delicious. OMG, I've been having it for breakfast...and dessert! It is that good. I think next time I'll do half HWC and half half-and-half to make it a little more custardy and less dense. But either way? It's that good.

And yes, I did stick a knife in the middle to get a taste right out of the oven. Hey, I live alone, who's gonna care? :D

Health

Good thing I was free all day yesterday. Ahem. I met with the GYN for pre-op for my hysteroscopy next week (a diagnostic D&C to biopsy the fibroids and polyp that are currently residing in my uterus). I revise my belief about the doctor--I thought he might be from the Caribbean, but I think he may actually from the African continent. I say this because he has a thick accent. In addition to that, he mumbles and talks very deep and low, so it is difficult for me to understand him.(Did I mention have hearing loss in my right ear? Yeah, duct tape and staples. That's all that's holding me together LOL.) Sometimes I just nod my head if I think it's not important and I'm not sure what he said. Whichever, he seemed ok with my answers. LOL

He had an intern in his office, and when he asked her to explain how WLS can put Type II diabetes into remission, she mentioned fat, weight loss, adipose tissue, etc. I was not inclined to correct them. Fat and weight loss do not contribute to the immediate (often within days) remission of Type II diabetes post surgery. My remission took six weeks, but I was on insulin for over eight years and had been a diabetic more than fifteen--those two indicate a longer remission process post-surgery. I didn't bother telling them that by the end of six weeks I'd lost about 40 pounds and that I'd lost that 40 pounds over and over again over the years and it did not affect my blood sugars at all. But given my problems with doctors lately (oy vay!), I decided to just be quiet. It didn't matter. I just wanted those varmints in my uterus out. Doctor's can get pissed when you correct them, and I just wanted to move on with the gynecological process.

They sent me over to the hospital for an EKG and then next week labs and a urinalysis, which had to be completed within 72 hours of surgery. I checked in, waited, read, watched as clouds blew in and we got pounded with rain (cool!). Finally admissions called me in and then she walked me over to another lobby. Then a tech called me in and walked me back to her phlebotomy station. She picked up multiple blood collection vials and was giving me instructions on the urinalysis when I said, "I'm not supposed to have the blood draw until 72 hours before surgery...."  She blanched, looked at the order and said, "Oh." I told her that I was only there for an EKG and had I known I was waiting for a lab draw, I would have advised the person who walked me over that I was only there for an EKG. So she walked me over to the cardiac area and I had the EKG. The tech talked my ear off about her medical issues but, whatever.

So I got to my doctor's office around 10:10 am (I hate being late. HATE.), read until about 10:20, went in, waited, saw doc and intern, left about 11:30 am. Got lunch at Panda (leftovers are in fridge. What used to be one meal for me is now 3-4 meals. I got the Shanghai steak and green bean chicken.) Over to the hospital about 12:30, and I didn't get out of there until 3 o'clock. So yeah, like I said, good thing I had nothing else on my plate for yesterday otherwise I would've been a little frustrated.

I made some calls while I was "at lunch" yesterday, and found a doctor in my town who takes walk-ins from 9 am - 1pm, Mon-Thurs. Otherwise an appointment would be in ten days or so. So I got up early this morning and got in there by 9:05 am. I filled out all the paperwork only to have the nurse tell me, "You know the doctor doesn't get here until 10 o'clock, right?"

Uh. No. No I did not. And why didn't you mention it when I spoke to you yesterday? Honest to goodness, I feel like I'm trapped in a bad movie where everything goes awry. LOL

So I waited, got taken in just after 10, waited nor more than five minutes, and this good looking man in a gorgeous expensive shirt and tie, nice slacks, leather shoes, and a short salt&pepper beard read my file and then started asking questions. In fact, this is what I put on one of my groups:

Wish me luck. I just met with a new doctor this morning. I liked him very much. Professional, good listener, wrote stuff down, looked at the paperwork I brought AND made copies, filled prescriptions that were running out and made referrals. Not quite on board with the iron infusions, but I'm working on it. Yay.

I liked him A LOT. He also has one other paitent with choroidal melanoma so he knows all about it! What are the odds!?  He wants me to have a colonoscopy before I schedule the hernia repair. In the last two weeks it's gotten even bigger and more uncomfortable. It doesn't help that Snuffy, the new kitty, wants to stand on it all the time. Urgh.

So I'll schedule with the GI and hope to get this hernia thing rolling pretty soon. I want to be well by the end of December so I can move in January. I mentioned the iron infusion to him, but I threw so much other stuff at hime I think it got buried. I'll talk to him about it next time I see him. He also refilled two important prescriptions for me:  antidepressant and of which I only had 3 left; and anti-anxiety and which i ran out of mid-September and have felt and slept like shit since. (Uh, anxious, hello.)

So fingerscrossed that this guy is the guy, at least until I move.

Right now I'm waiting for my drugs at the Starbucks inside Target--and, oh yeah, Medi- Cal changed my Medi-Cal number and didn't notify me of the change OR send me a new card. I'm telling you, i'm the kiss of death for medical professionals and bureaucrats. And WTH? :-P  Stop already, sheesh. So hopefully I can get my drugs today. I explained it to the technician when I dropped off and he said they would have someone call. 

Since I'm here, I'm going to utilize my acess to unlimited internet to finish some articles I'm writing so I can get paid and do stuff like pay my cell phone (aka Internet access) bill. 

Ta!