Post-surgery Reflections on Food

I found myself thinking a lot about food in the aftermath of my latest oral surgery.

Beet kvass preoccupied me first.

What is beet kvass?

It’s a lacto-fermented beverage made from beets. Lacto-fermentation is the process whereby milk is turned into yogurt. But you can lacto-ferment many other foods besides milk. Lacto-fermentation makes foods more digestible, preserves them from spoilage, and makes the vitamins and minerals in them much more bio-available.

I first discovered beet kvass several years ago, and I loved the taste.

I’d lapsed in making it, but decided that it would be especially good for me in the aftermath of surgery.

I made a point of drinking beet kvass after my May surgery.

After my August surgery, I was unable to drink anything for the first several days. When I became able to swallow, I dove for the beet kvass. Not only did it taste good, but it felt as though each mouthful was an elixir from a magical healing spring.

I couldn’t help thinking about the progression of my healing and beet kvass.

The May surgery was on a Wednesday, and when my surgeon saw me 5 days later on Monday, he expressed surprise at how good my mouth looked. He said he had expected everything to be much more swollen. Instead, the swelling was minimal.

My August surgery was on a Thursday. Because of the surgical and post-surgical complications, my surgeon saw me on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, when my mouth was looking very poor indeed. When he saw me that Monday (4 days after the surgery), he actually winced, because it still looked so bad.

But a week later, he repeated what he’d said at the May surgery: that he was surprised at how good my mouth looked.

I am convinced it was the beet kvass.

Of course, there is no proof. My experience is purely anecdotal. But in my heart of hearts, I’m convinced.

(You can read more about beet kvass in this blog post.)

My post-surgery beet kvass experience led to further thoughts about food.

I watched an episode of The Paleo Way on Netflix. I re-read Nourishing Traditions from cover to cover. I started a list of recipes I wanted to try once I was recovered enough to cook (and to eat things other than liquids).

At first I explained my pre-occupation with food as the natural re-assessment of life one might do after a crisis. What are my priorities? Should I be doing something different? How do I want to go forward once I’m well again?

That was one facet of it.

But while chatting with my daughter I discovered that she, too, had been focused on food in the aftermath of having all four of her wisdom teeth out in June. She’d watched cooking shows non-stop.

We both realized that when you are on a liquid diet, you get so hungry!

So, yes, I was re-assessing as one does. But my re-assessment was probably focused on food because I was hungry. 😀

What results did my re-assessing deliver?

I was reminded of something a friend of mine said to me a couple years ago. She realized she was good at avoiding foods that were bad for her, but that she needed to put more effort toward seeking out foods that were especially good for her.

That was my own conclusion for myself.

I avoid processed foods, seed oils, sugar, grains, and legumes. But I’m not getting enough of the nutrient-dense foods that promote well-being and vibrant health. I made a list.

1) I need more healthy fats in my diet.

Saturated fats provide the building blocks for the cell membrane of every cell in my body and the building blocks for most of the hormones and hormone-like workhorses in my body. And fats alone permit the assimilation of the fat-soluble vitamins.

My husband has been doing more of the cooking lately, and he simply does not use as much butter as I do. Nor does he make sauces. Of course, I’d not created as many sauces as would be ideal, when I was doing more of the cooking. But this was something I could improve on.

I hope to create homemade mayonnaise regularly. To drizzle butter over baked vegetables. To dive into the world of sauces and make them a regular part of my cooking repertoire. (I’ve made two batches of mayo so far.)

2) I need to ingest bone broth nearly every day.

Bone broth heals the intestinal wall, makes vitamins and minerals more readily assimilable, and provides a catalyst affect for stronger bones.

I don’t know what I was thinking in not drinking bone broth regularly for the last few years. The instant I was diagnosed with osteopenia (and then osteoporosis), I should have been on the bone broth wagon.

Actually, I think I did start off with that intention, but I somehow lost track of it.

It is time to get serious about bone broth. I’ve made two big pots of it during my convalescence, and I hope to continue indefinitely. Not only will I drink the broth plain, but I’ll make soups with it. It serves as the basis for many sauces as well.

3) I need to eat lacto-fermented foods every day.

Lacto-fermented foods have live enzymes in them that supplement the digestive enzymes made by the body. Additionally, they produce lactic acid, which encourages the growth of the symbiotic flora that humans need in their intestines. Some of the longest lived people in the world—those in the Caucasus Mountains—eat generous helpings of kefir and yogurt (both lacto-fermented milk).

Which means I need to make lacto-fermented foods regularly. Lacto-fermentation usually takes 2 – 4 days, so you have to make such foods ahead. Luckily they are easy and kind of fun.

In the last twenty days, I’ve made cucumber pickles and kimchi (Korean sauerkraut), as well as beet kvass. And my mayo was the lacto-fermented variant.

I plan to share some of the recipes with you in the coming weeks, so watch this space. 😀

I’m still coping with pain from my surgery and fatigue, but I am improving. I’ll be well and strong eventually…just not quite yet.

For more about healthy fats, bone broth, or lacto-fermented foods, see:
Butter and Cream and Coconut, Oh My!
I Love Soup!
Amazing Lactobacilli

 

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Hospital Misadventures

So, what happened to me in the hospital?

My surgeon has admitting privileges at the Augusta Medical Center, so that is where he sent me. He called ahead to warn them I was en route, but the first thing they had to do was assess me.

After all, no medical person had seen me for many hours. I could be in any condition, for all they knew, when I walked in through the ER doors.

Blood pressure, heart rate, and blood oxygen are simple enough to obtain. But answers to questions? Oh, my!

With my tongue the size of the Goodyear blimp, my answers were utterly unintelligible.

Luckily my husband could tell the whole sad story perfectly well: the surgery and its complications, the extreme swelling in the aftermath.

And, interestingly, my husband could often understand my blurred utterances, when the question pertained to something current, rather than something in the past. He could translate for me.

The intake was fast, and I waited only 5 minutes before they took me back.

Soon I was hooked up to an IV, receiving fluids, antibiotics, and a steroid (to get the swelling down). Then came the first stumble. They wanted to give me something for pain, and I was all for it, since my pain levels were high.

But they wanted to give me Toradol, which is an NSAID.

I’ve been avoiding NSAIDs for the last 25 years. The last time I ever took one—ibuprofen—the pill landing in in my stomach felt like someone had lit a match there. It HURT!

This is where being scared, weak, in pain, and not able to talk is a huge disadvantage in a hospital. I let them give it to me. They argued that everyone experiences some stomach upset with NSAIDs and that since the drug would not be going through the stomach, it would have a minimal effect there.

I didn’t feel strong enough and confident enough to just say no.

Well, it didn’t feel like a lit match, thank goodness. But within 45 minutes, my stomach hurt. It really hurt. And I strongly regretted that unsaid no. Next time—assuming there is one—I’ll say no.

In the meantime, there I was, tongue still swollen, pain less in my mouth, but still present, and enough pain in my stomach to offset any relief from lowered mouth pain. My one comfort was that if the swelling were to increase enough to cut off my airways, I was in the right place. Presumably they would be able to save me.

We’d arrived at the ER around 4 in the afternoon. Sometime around 7 pm I received a hospital room. And then it was time for my husband to go home. Our kids are 16, old enough to be fine on their own for considerable lengths of time. But still, it was time for a parent to return to the nest and do all the parent things.

All of the rooms at Augusta Health are single, and they are very nice. Mine had a gorgeous view of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

So I hung out in the bed, gazing out at the golden evening and just resting. I felt very tired.

My surgeon arrived and assessed me. He arranged for a suction device, so that I could remove the spit from my mouth without having to try to swallow it. That was huge relief. And as the hours ticked away, my tongue began to subside.

I still remember trying a sip of iced water at around midnight. Just the one. And I was able to swallow it! I cannot tell you how good that felt.

By morning my tongue was perhaps half its previous size and swallowing water was very feasible. Oh, how I loved that water!

Jello—served for breakfast—was still beyond me. And I knew the “chicken broth” was probably a chemical sea of MSG and soy, which would just upset my poor stomach still more. Because—yes—my stomach was still suffering. It felt like someone had taken sandpaper to it.

By early afternoon, I could talk intelligibly! Yay!

Prep began for me to return home.

And then came the next major stumble. I was given liquid oxycontin. Uh, oh!

Guess what? Liquid oxycontin has alcohol in its formulation. And that alcohol burned the surgical wound in my mouth. I’m not really much of a crier these days. This is not a virtue. There are many times when the catharsis of a good cry would ready me to proceed ahead with full energy, but—dash it!—I can’t manage to cry.

Well, let me tell you! My burned surgical wound hurt so badly—and grew worse after the initial burn—that I simply had to cry. Pain level 9 out 10.

Within half an hour, my tongue was the size of the Goodyear blimp once again.

But still they were going to send me home.

This seemed like a bad idea to me. I couldn’t swallow my own spit anymore. I couldn’t swallow any water. I couldn’t swallow any medications. This was why I’d been admitted to the hospital in the first place. But they were going to send me home anyway?

Their reasoning was twofold.

1) All the steroids in me would keep working and my tongue would start to go down in size soon.

2) I’d been admitted to the hospital for observation. If I stayed for more than 24 hours, the basis for my admission would have to be changed and the whole thing would became much more expensive, and the insurance coverage assessed on a different basis.

Well, I can’t pretend that the second reason didn’t weigh with me.

My husband’s position was eliminated in July, and he is currently unemployed. We have medical insurance through the end of the year. We have the money to buy food, pay our mortgage, and pay this hospital bill. But…our financial situation is not good, not good at all.

I didn’t think my surgeon was right about how quickly my tongue would de-swell. In fact, I was scared about that. But I figured that at least I was no longer dehydrated. I’d been getting IV fluids all this time. I could surely last until the next day. And maybe, by then, I would be able to swallow again.

So I went home.

On the way home, I did some thinking. What could I do to ensure that I didn’t just land in the hospital again tomorrow?

I found myself remembering The Sharing Knife: Legacy by Lois McMaster Bujold.

A major facet of the story treats with the fate of ten unconscious people, who Dag and Fawn (and company) are determined to save. Dag puts the grandmothers in the group on the case. He figures that people who have the most experience keeping completely helpless people alive will have the best chance with these unconscious patients.

Somehow that scene gave me hope. If those fictional grandmothers could succeed, maybe I could, too.

It wasn’t until 10 at night that my own solution came to me.

I was remembering when my children were babies, and how we used plastic syringes to get medicine into them when they were ill.

I’d been given exactly that kind of plastic syringe to get my own medicines into me. I had liquid steroids and liquid antibiotics. And I’d been told to crush the oxycodone pills, mix them with water, and syringe those into me as well.

The first dose worked! The trick was to push the plunger down very s-l-o-w-l-y. I couldn’t swallow even a sip. But I could swallow one drop at a time.

And that is when I realized that I could get water into me via syringe. Drop by drop.

I even tried a syringe full of consommé. And I knew I would be okay. Medicine? Check. Fluids? Check. I really would be okay.

But…my stomach hurt soooo much! All those medicines on an empty stomach were doing a number on me.

I carried on. Medicine. Water. Consommé. Medicine. Water. Consommé.

By 3 the next afternoon (24 hours after my discharge), my tongue was once again down in size, enough so that I could swallow. And talk, with a strange sort of lisp. I’d turned the corner.

That was the weekend of August 10-11. My surgeon winced when he saw me that Monday, because the swelling was still so bad.

But how am I now?

A lot better.

I’ve been guzzling down beet kvass, homemade chicken broth, kombucha, and eating over-easy fried eggs. My stomach is not yet fully recovered from the harsh medicines, but it just hurts a little, not a lot.

This Monday—August 19—my surgeon was really happy with the state of my mouth. He said it was looking good! (I think it was the beet kvass. Really!)

I am still in a fair amount of pain. Part of that is that my primary pain medicine is now acetaminophen. You can’t just continue with the opioids indefinitely. The other part is that my surgery was pretty extensive. There was a lot of bone removed, ground down, and smoothed. It is just going to take time for my body to get it all healed.

I’m grateful that I’m alive. I’m grateful that I didn’t have to suffer intubation. I’m grateful I can swallow! I’m grateful that I am healing. And I am so, so eager to be well!

Send me healing vibes, if you feel so inclined!

For more about my surgery, see:
Surgical Complications Slow Me

 

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Surgical Complications Slow Me

hospital room

Yes, I have been in the hospital.

It really was not supposed to go that way.

What happened?

I needed oral surgery. It was an outpatient procedure, unpleasant, with the risk of complications that all surgery carries, but likely to go smoothly. I’d even been through Part One in May with a minimum of fuss. Part Two would be similar, right?

Well, it wasn’t.

The surgery I needed was the reduction of a torus mandibularis.

“What the hay is a torus mandibularis?” you ask.

It is a bony growth in the lower jawbone along the surface nearest to the tongue.

bony growth on the lower jawboneMine was much larger and more poorly positioned than the one in the photo at right. That lucky person would clearly have been able to floss his or her teeth just fine.

My toroid was located near to the top of the gum line and it had a bump upward on top of that. Which meant that when I flossed those teeth, I could not physically get the floss fully down into the bottom of the cranny between tooth and gum. This was causing gum disease to develop.

Toroids usually come in pairs, and mine did. I had the right one ground down in May. It was unpleasant, but bearable.

Part Two—the left one—was August 8. It was a nightmare.

When my surgeon finished the toroid grinding (there’s a special machine for this), he discovered that the inner edge of the jawbone at the back of my mouth (beyond where the toroid had lain) was razor sharp. If he simply reattached my gum tissue (detached and pushed aside for the surgery), the bone would cut the gum tissue. He had to smooth and round that sharp edge.

So he did.

But the edge went back…and back…and BACK!

So he excavated back and back and back, rounding all the way. Finally he got to the end of it and could start stitching my gum tissue back down.

That was unpleasant enough, because it increased the length of the surgery. But I made it through. I was under twilight sedation, so I was semi-aware. Not nice, but bearable.

The true nightmare began about 6 hours later.

My pain levels sky rocketed. I needed extra pain relief, which was a little delayed in arriving. My mouth swelled. Even worse, my tongue started to swell.

By the next morning, my tongue was so swollen—felt like the Goodyear blimp crammed into my mouth—that I could no longer swallow. At all.

photo of blimp in sky

I could still breath, which was essential, of course. But any swallowing was a complete no go.

I could not swallow my own spit. I could not swallow any water. I could not swallow any medicine.

My surgeon prescribed liquid steroids, which could be eye-droppered into me, one drop at a time. And I managed to swallow them. They helped, but not enough, especially since I was now very dehydrated and dry heaving. I needed IV fluids and IV medications. So, hospital.

They kept me for only 23 hours and sent me home.

There were some setbacks—which I will not go into now. I’m wearing out in the storytelling, I’m afraid. Maybe in another blog post. 😉

So how am I? Will I be okay?

Yes.

I can swallow. The swelling is down (although not completely absent). The pain is controlled reasonably well. (Every now and then it breaks through, and then—yikes!)

But J.M. Ney-Grimm is definitely in slow mode. I sleep. I read. I rest. I drink broth. And then I sleep again. (The ole brain is truly off line.)

I had imagined myself writing a short story for the sheer fun of it during these convalescing weeks. Nope.

Because my surgery was more extensive than planned (getting that close to the base of the tongue is a bad thing), the recovery will take longer, probably a good month. For now, my top priority must be healing. Sigh. I’d rather be writing!

For more about the aftermath of my surgery, see:
Hospital Misadventures

 

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Hair Wash with Rhassoul Clay

It’s been 2 years since I blogged about hair washing, but my journey into DIY has continued.

The big push for further experiments came when Terressentials changed the recipe for their hair wash. I loved their hair wash. Loved, loved, LOVED it. It kept my hair clean and my scalp healthy. It was perfect! How could they change it?!

Now, they never announced any changes. But between one bottle and the next, how it performed on my hair changed. My hair had been clean, silky, and smooth after a wash. Now it was developing a slightly sticky build-up. Yuck! The longer I used the hair wash, the stickier my hair got.

It still looked fine. But it felt funny, and getting a comb through it grew difficult. I found I could use baby shampoo every four or five washes to get rid of the residue, but it would always build up again.

This was not satisfactory!

I’m pretty sure I know what they did, because of an early thing I did with the Terressentials hair wash.

In the days when it still worked for me, the hair wash was really thick and sometimes hard to squeeze out of the bottle. The directions cautioned that one should not add water to the bottle, because there were no preservatives in the formula. Adding water would allow bacteria to grow.

The one liquid ingredient in the formula was aloe juice. So I got some pure aloe juice and added it to the bottle. That did make the hair wash easier to pour. But guess what? It also caused my hair to develop a sticky residue!

So I went back to using the hair wash unadulterated. It was not that hard to squeeze out.

I bet that the Terressentials people added more aloe juice to their formula. And maybe it isn’t a problem if the water in your area is softer than in mine. But I had a problem on my hands…er, hair.

I re-read a book of recipes for homemade toiletries and tried an egg-based shampoo. It worked fairly well, but it was a pain to make every time I needed to wash my hair. (It wasn’t something you could store.) Plus, my hair got oily after three or four washes. So then I had to resort to a baby shampoo again.

After months of alternating between the Terressentials hair wash, home made egg shampoo, and baby shampoo, I had an idea.

The active cleaning ingredient in the Terressentials product was bentonite clay. What if I made my own hair wash based on bentonite clay?

I took to the internet and discovered that several DIY folk had been before me on this. There were recipes! Although, really, it doesn’t take a recipe. Got bentonite clay? Available from Amazon. Got water? Runs out of my faucet very nicely!

But I did learn that one specific type of bentonite clay gives a better result: rhassoul clay. And it was reassuring to know that other people were making this work.

So I mixed up a batch, used it, and was delighted. I had those old stellar results back: clean hair, healthy scalp, and no residue.

Although a recipe is not really necessary, I’m going to give you mine, mostly because it’s helpful to get the proportions right. I mix up enough to fit in the travel bottles I take to the gym.

Rhassoul Clay Hair Wash

Ingredients

1/3 cup water
2 heaping tablespoons rhassoul clay

Directions

1 • Fill a spouted measuring cup with the water.

2 • Sprinkle a third of the rhassoul clay into the water and stir really well with a fork to break up clumps.

3 • Sprinkle another third of the rhassoul clay into the water and stir really well with the fork.

4 • Sprinkle the last third of the rhassoul clay into the water and stir really well with the fork.

5 • Pour the clay mixture into your shampoo bottle. You will have to use your fingers (or maybe a rubber scraper—I use fingers) to get the last of it.

6 • Cap the bottle and use. Store in the fridge.

I’ve never tried storing my hair wash in the shower cubby. It might be okay. I’ll confess that when my Terressentials bottles got down to the dregs, I would add water (against the instructions), and leave the hair wash in the shower niche for a week, and no mold ever did grow.

But since I store my lemon rinse in the fridge, I figure I may as well store my hair wash there also. Besides, I’ve gotten used to cool hair wash and cool hair rinse being poured on my head. It’s refreshing!

And, yes, I do still use my homemade lemon rinse. That’s a solution that continues to work.

For more about safe and effective toiletries, see:
Why Add a Lemon Rinse
Great Soap & Etcetera Quest
Facial Soap Eureka

 

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Here Be Magic

Two of my titles have been chosen for a new bundle!

In addition to my own Troll-magic and Hunting Wild, Here Be Magic includes 5 novels plus 5 shorts and a short story collection.

I’m a fan of Dayle Dermatis’ work, so I’m particularly eager to read her “Good Scrying Gone Bad.”

The opening for “Shakespeare’s Curse” hooked me, as did that of “The Warrior’s Curse.” And the premise of “Words of Rain and Shadow” intrigues me.

I suspect I have some good reading ahead of me. Perhaps you do, too! 😀

*

The First Rule of Witchcraft: Harm none.

The Second Rule of Witchcraft: Practice magic only when you’re clear of mind.

That includes not practicing magic while drunk.

When drunken scrying goes awry, Madison connects with Brody, a cute guy trapped…somewhere. Freeing him becomes her obsession.

Does the Second Rule of Witchcraft count when it comes to love?

*

Prince Kellor, cursed by the troll-witch Mandine to live as a north-bear, wrestles with the challenges of his beast form. Pain wracks his body, and unpredictable rages blur his mind.

His childhood friend Elle holds the key to his escape, but should he endanger her by seeking her help?

A lyrical Beauty and the Beast tale, rife with shining glory, dark magnificence, and unexpected significance.
 
 

*

Teneyros—a young and ambitious wizard—hears rumors that the Elder of Scrolls Anansi intends to retire.

Anansi loves tricks. He envisions his successor as the trickiest of tricksters. Only the wiliest must win his position and lead the wizards of the world.

Teneyros plays Anansi’s game against his brother as well as their rival, Ben Jonson. Who will win and who will lose? Who will be the Elder of Scrolls?
 
 

*

Young Remeya worships the forbidden horned god. A worship made taboo half a millennium ago. Performed still in secret by a few. Quietly tolerated by the king.

Epic fantasy in which old beliefs and old loyalties clash with hidden magic in the Middle Ages of the god-touched North-lands.
 
 
 
 
 
 

*

He who bargains with monsters beware!

A hero forges an unholy bargain with a witch and learns that magic never forgets.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

*

The Shadow Folk attack when it rains.

Only Irinia can hear their voices. But the village seer refuses to listen to her. Women can’t be seers.

She must earn the trust of the village, and fast.

Because the rain brings death.
 
 
 
 
 

Magic invites . . .

Curses and blessing, sorcerous time travel, shape-shifters, hidden enchantment and corrupted blood.

Magic demands . . .

Saving those you love, courage, betrayal and fights against unspeakable forces.

Magic promises . . .

Last best hopes, reluctant and desperate heroes, ancient power unleashed and the compulsion to overcome death itself.

Magic risks . . .

Forbidden spells and deadly bargains.

Here be magic!

From life to death, from realm to realm, from past to future and in between—dare you adventure with wizards?

“Good Scrying Gone Bad” by Dayle A. Dermatis
Troll-magic by J.M. Ney-Grimm
“Shakespeare’s Curse” by Karen C. Klein
Lords of Dyscrasia by S.E. Lindberg
The Spell by Barbara G. Tarn
Hunting Wild by J.M. Ney-Grimm
“The Warrior’s Curse” by A. L. Butcher
Legacy of Mist and Shadow by Diana L. Wicker
A Sudden Outbreak of Magic by Michael Jasper
“Words of Rain and Shadows” by Linda Maye Adams
Tales of Erana by A. L. Butcher
Mage of Merigor by Alison Naomi Holt
“Drinking & Conjuring Don’t Mix” by Stefon Mears

The Here Be Magic bundle is available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, iTunes, or direct from the BundleRabbit site.

For more bundles with my stories in them, see:
Eclectica
Here Be Unicorns
Here Be Merfolk
Here Be Fairies
Here Be Dragons
Immortals

 

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