Ok, we left off with mud and creating and all that jazz. I still salivate at the smell of wet earth. Its my Pavlovian response. When I was a little girl, probably 4 yrs old maybe 5, I was so excited when it rained because I knew this was the essential ingredient to make my mud pies. I would wake up early and go out to my bakery ( a tiny spot behind the front bushes of our farm house in Illinois). My first patrons were always with me, Pete, my big English sheepdog and Mama Kitty, my elegant Siamese cat with crossed eyes and PMS. They would patiently wait as I concocted my masterpieces. They never ate them though, just a sniff and off they ran. But I felt validated in some quirky way, that my creations had passed the sniff test and they were ready for the oven…the early morning sunshine. So, as those heat up, let me tell you about MS…
So, when I heard the words, ” You have MS”, I felt paralyzed. All time stood still. I could hear my heart beat pounding in my head. I had known for several months that I probably had multiple sclerosis. I had been a pediatrician for over 25 yrs at that point, so as a physician, I silently knew. I was in total denial ever since I started having severe, excruciating night time leg spasms and imploding type pain in my big toes, about 4 yrs ago. Once my fingers started going numb, I knew I needed a brain scan. That was how I was diagnosed, with classic Dawson’s fingers in my periventricular regions( classic radiologic demyelinating spots) and more demyelinating lesions in my spine. So that was my fork in the road. My river of life that I had so erroneously thought was all mapped out and my row boat that I thought I had total control over, just took a sharp turn. I had lost my paddles, my rudder and my compass at that moment.
So I have had to create a new mud pie over the last few years. The ingredients included early retirement from my job as a pediatrician (my life long passion and identity), living in the moment ,slowing down and putting myself first ( what a selfish concept!).
So the “re-creation of me” began. Loving myself and listening to what my body needed on a daily basis became my graham cracker crust. Then there was a big old layer of gratitude, for my husband, my sons, my friends, my family and my co-workers. The next layer required me to find an essential ingredient that I didn’t even know I had in my pantry…vulnerability. Being able to tell everyone ( self included), that I was not and am not Superwoman. Realizing I am not the only cook in the kitchen. “ I need you all” was my battle cry. And to my amazement, everyone rallied and gave me what I needed. They gave me what I asked for… the essential ” ingredient” of true compassion that I didn’t even know I needed. So, I am really excited to taste this new mud pie and share it with those that helped me bake it. Its going to be gritty and real. Some days tasty, some days not.
I know I said MS sucks. And it does. It sucks that I had to give up my life long passion. It sucks that my foot is numb and I have to take Gabapentin at night to over ride the thousands of little ” bee stings” I have all over my body. It sucks that now I really am a “dumb blonde”, losing my ability to word find and converse freely at night because my brain has decided it’s had enough. But, that’s all part of this pie. Its my journey now. I have a new river to navigate. I’m learning to allow the ebb and flow of the new river I’ve found myself on to be my source of energy. I’ve found a new set of paddles . And with my dear husband and sons and family and friends as my ballasts, I’ve realized…I’m going to be OK, whatever that looks like. I plan on steering my boat as best I can, every day.
So, as I lay my new mud pie out in the warm morning rays to bake and solidify, I sit in gratitude and grace for all that I have. And I know that no matter what life brings my way, I’m going to be ok because of all of the love and support I have from my fellow pastry chefs. Bon appetit !