When All You Can Contribute is Homemade Love

When people are sick, I feel like I need to do something.  I know they hear from everyone "if there's anything I can do" and I'm sure at the time they mean it but they also kind of hope they aren't called upon as well because they have their own full plates.  People also don't want to be a burden, so when they're going through hard times whether it's emotional or physical, most tend to isolate.  

My friend's mom has been like a second mom to me since 7th grade.  She comes from a saucy Italian lineage, loves fiercely and can throwdown verbally with the best of them.  From her running up and yelling at us girls to quiet down when we were getting rowdy to driving her kids and me two hours away to see David Lee Roth and Poison in the '80s with "Diamond Dave or bust" written on her car, I have some good childhood memories of her.  She was also the first person to know the Mr and I were engaged since my friend was in the bathroom when we got there.  LOL  

When she got cancer the first time about two years ago, she refused to let anyone help her.  "I don't feel sick!  There's nothing to do, I can do everything myself."  She was lucky that first go-round because she said the only reason she even knew she was sick was that they were pumping chemo into her.  Other than that, she felt 100% herself.   That's a good thing, and I'm glad she had an easy time with it.  Her remission was, unfortunately, short-lived.  

This time around, she's had problems with fluid build-up from the cancer, so her breathing has been labored daily.  She's been in and out of the hospital many times with this round, and her leg muscles are atrophied.  I'd offered several times to cook meals for her, and she always said she was fine even though I knew darn well she wasn't.  Her daughter told me she wasn't eating and it wasn't because she was at that stage at the end but because she didn't want to get out of breath.  She told me her mom lost 45 lbs since May and that was in August.

After an email check-in with her mom and confirmation that her condition wasn't getting any better, I replied that I was still more than happy to cook some meals for her to heat up.  I could either drop them off in her freezer or with her son who lives close by so he could take them over if she wasn't up for visitors.  To my delight, she replied she'd take any "leftovers" we had.  Um, yeah to quote Bugs Bunny..." she don't know me vewy well, do she?"  She gave me a list of her favorite foods, and I got to work.

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We went to the store Sunday, and I got a big pack of chicken, a beef roast, bags of potatoes and spaghetti with the good meat sauce and some frozen meatballs as well as some frozen veggies.  This isn't my first rodeo with making meals for people, I've done it for my mom and for new moms as they adjust to motherhood.  I had half a batch of my meal prep containers left and got to cooking.  I threw the roast in the crockpot and a few chicken breasts after that was done.  I seared up several chicken breasts and finished them in the oven.  I made a big batch of mashed potatoes and a box of spaghetti.  I assembled full meals and included little condiment containers of the au jus from the roast since that one can dry out when it reheats.  I also made some homemade gravy to put in those for the mashed potatoes using arrowroot powder instead of cornstarch to cut back on the sodium since she's on water pills.  When everything was assembled, I wrapped the outside in Press and Seal and then labeled them so she could easily grab and heat knowing what was inside.

When I let her know the food was ready, she said I could drop it by the next day.  I packed up my collapsible cooler which just fit everything.

When I got there, the door was cracked and I went inside.  She was in the kitchen with her back to me and said: "I look different than the last time you saw me, so don't be scared."  I think I will remember that for the rest of my life.  She turned around in her walker and breathing tube and looked so frail.  My heart broke.  It was so difficult seeing her that way, and I know that's why a lot of people don't want visitors as their disease progresses so they can be remembered at their healthiest.  She had a freezer full of stuff already, and I honestly didn't know how it would fit but I Tetris'd it in there and the freezer in the garage.  A lot of the stuff she had in there already were bigger things of food that would take a longer time to defrost and a few boxes of single meals, but we all know how those taste.  I was happy I could make some of her favorite comfort food meals and made her some breakfast stuff because I know she wasn't eating it, which she confirmed.  I individually wrapped banana bread muffins.  Some plain, some with dark chocolate chips as well as some peanut butter and chocolate pancakes that take 30 seconds to heat and little containers of syrup.  I put together two baggies of my special blend of hot chocolate with little containers of mini marshmallows which made her eyes light up.

It sounds selfish to say it made me happy to do those things for her because it's not her job to make me happy when she's fighting for her life.  It was also apparent though that her body is basically cannibalizing itself because she's finding it too laboring to walk 25 feet to the microwave.  At least if she can put a muffin by her bed at night, she can have a little energy in her belly to maybe make it to the microwave a few hours later.  We talked about her condition, and it was one of the saddest conversations I've ever had.  As an empath and Virgo, perfectionism is a problem for me because I want to say that one perfect thing that makes someone feel better.  That one piece of advice or solution that will make things better for someone.  It's not that I think my magical meals are somehow going to give her the energy she doesn't have but sometimes just knowing something is done with love to make your life easier just tastes a little better.  It doesn't come from a narcissistic place but a place of wanting to help someone feel or do better depending on the situation.

I let her talk about how shitty the situation was, she is going to have to sell her house to go into assisted living (if she makes it that far), and other things that were hard to hear.  I realized this may well be the last time I see her, and there was nothing I could do.  It is very sobering watching someone not necessarily accept the inevitable but that they no longer have hope and that the prayers you pray are not likely to win out in the end.  We went through that with my father in law and grandpa, and it leaves a mark.  I gave a few suggestions for tag sale places that could take the burden off of the family trying to get her place together.  I also gave a physical therapy technique called blood flow restriction that rapidly progresses muscle building where regular physical therapy doesn't help to discuss with her PT for her legs.  I am glad I went over, but it's hard for someone like me to know what to say and not to mirror the energy I absorb from the situation which probably had me looking at her like a constipated wombat.

I'm glad I saw her though and gave her some homemade love.  It was the only thing I felt like I could do, especially since she's so stubborn in accepting help regardless of the situation.  I am trying to look at old pics of her, so I don't let her new reality sink in and mar my memory of her.  We will still continue praying and sending out good vibes to her.  It's one thing counseling your friend through it all and then seeing it in the flesh.  I talked with the Mr about it when I got home, and it wasn't until I saw him that I realized just how hard it had been.  I'm mentally preparing myself for that call or message from my friend.  At this point, I have to pray she just holds out long enough so that her daughter can get married in a month and have her honeymoon.  Part of me is terrified that isn't in the cards, and I don't know how much more my friend can take on the heartbreak scale if her wedding is taken from her twice.  (I don't mean that as any disrespect toward her mom, I know she can't help it.)

I got a message from her that night that she had my creamed chicken and mashed potatoes for dinner and loved it.  I was so happy that she ate it and enjoyed some comfort food.  I may not be able to do much, but I can cook.


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