Being Prepared. For Mammograms, Good News and Good Health. (Gingered Spinach and Mushroom Soup)

As I write this, I'm sitting in the waiting room of The Presbyterian Breast Center in Charlotte NC.  Because of an as-yet-unexplained abnormality in my mammogram of last week, I'm here for a "diagnostic" mammogram and, depending on that outcome, perhaps some other tests.  I've been assured that I will not leave here today without a fairly definitive reason for my abnormal mammogram.

Coincidentally, October was National Breast Cancer Awareness Month.  The event's distinctive pink ribbons were aflutter all month long -- at NFL games, at the kids' school, in doctors' office, and perhaps, most visibly, at an abundance of Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure events throughout the country.

Oddly, as I read the many breast cancer articles and reminders in The Charlotte Observer in October and listened to the advice of expert radiologists, gynecologists and oncologists on The Today Show, it occurred to me that I don't currently know of any instances of breast cancer in my circle of friends.  That's saying something, because it's a fairly extensive circle, including neighborhood friends, former co-workers in Boston, RIchmond and Charlotte, newly re-discovered classmates from Charleston and Columbia, and lots and lots of moms (particularly those of seventh and ninth graders, Boy Scouts and cross country runners).  The American Cancer Society estimates that one in eight of us will develop breast cancer in our lifetime.  My slightly superstitious side couldn't help but wonder and worry -- about all of us.

Sure, I've known women with breast cancer, and sadly, some who lost their lives to it.  The ACS reports that nearly 200,000 new cases of invasive breast cancer will be diagnosed in American women in 2009.  Over 40,000 U.S. women are expected to die from breast cancer this year.  Lung cancer is the only cancer more deadly among this population.  A stunning 2.5 million U.S. women with a history of breast cancer were alive in January 2006.

I've heard these many facts over the years.  And now, I'm the one in the waiting room.

Despite recent blog posts about my Boy Scout-like desire to "be prepared," there's no way I could prepare for this.

I can't worry about something I don't know about, of course, and this is clearly something I don't know about.  I don't know what "it" is. That's why I'm here.  I suppose my abnormal mammogram could be attributed to any number of things, but the one I keep coming back to is cancer.

I won't keep you in suspense.  After an easy diagnostic exam, which was no more uncomfortable than any other mammogram, my radiologist reported that my breasts were clear for now.  (And yes, she actually did say, "for now," which I believe is the prudent thing to tell a patient.)

It appears that my original mammogram indicated a shadow of what was likely some folded over tissue.  I was reminded, of course, to continue scheduling my regular annual mammograms and monthly self-exams.  And I was reminded, of course, that it's never a bad idea to take good care of myself -- limiting alcohol and fat, getting plenty of exercise and enjoying a healthy diet with lots of veggies.

As luck would have it (and believe me, I already feel plenty lucky today), I'd made Gingered Spinach and Mushroom Soup just yesterday.  For a low-fat dish with lots of veggies -- and good taste -- I think it fits the bill.

Because as great as the folks were at The Breast Center, I don't plan to be there again next year.  Instead, that'll be me in the Susan G. Komen Race For The Cure.

To get a free annual mammogram reminder, visit The American Cancer Society website (click here) and tell them which month you'd like to receive your e-mail reminder.  You can even sign up a friend!

Gingered Spinach and Mushroom Soup

3-4 cups flavorful, homemade chicken stock (for recipe, click here)

1 teaspoon freshly grated ginger (or more to taste)

1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil ("regular" sesame oil doesn't have enough flavor)

3 cups (about 4 ounces) raw baby spinach, rolled up and sliced into thin ribbons

6 button mushrooms (I used cremini), sliced very thinly

1 tablespoon miso paste* (or to taste)

2 teaspoons lemon juice (or to taste)

In a large saucepan, heat ginger and sesame oil until fragrant.  (Just a few minutes.)  Stir in chicken stock and bring to a boil.  Reduce heat to medium and stir in spinach and mushrooms.  Cook until spinach is completely wilted, but still bright green.  Stir in miso and lemon juice.  Adjust seasonings and serve hot.  (If I'd had it on hand, some firm tofu, cubed, would have been perfect in this soup, too.)

*Miso paste is a Japanese ingredient, found in the international aisle of the grocery store.

Being Prepared. Part Two. (Chicken Orzo Soup)

I shouldn't say this out loud, but -- knock on wood, knock on formica, toss salt over your shoulder, toss the used Kleenex in the trash -- everyone Chez Wiles is currently in good health.

Of course it's temporary.  But given our recent cases of H1N1 (or as my no-nonsense sister says, "It's the SWINE flu.  Just call it that."), the stomach bug (another pleasant euphemism, but this is one I prefer) and a Halloween weekend trip to the ER, I'm glad to report that both kids are at school, and both made it through a full day yesterday as well.

True, we have been through our share of Advil.  And Kleenex.  And hand sanitizer.  And bags of throat lozenges.  (We highly recommend Halls Defense Vitamin C.)  And anytime I walk near my 14-year-old son, he still reflexively lifts his bangs so I can check his forehead.

Plus, we've washed our hands.  And washed our hands.  And washed our hands.  To the point that it irritates me to have one television doctor after the other advise me to "sing The Happy Birthday song" to make sure I'm washing long enough.  Why The Birthday Song?  I'm a grown-up, for Pete's sake.  Why not something from my high school days?  Something by Earth Wind & Fire, perhaps.  Or maybe the chorus to Aerosmith's Dream On?  "Sing with me, sing for the year, sing for the laughter, sing for the tea-ahhh ..."

But I digress.  (OK.  Indulge me for one more second, "Dream on, dream on, dream on, aahhhhhhhh ...")

All the hand-washing is part of that prevention and preparation thing.  And heaven knows, I like to be prepared.

But I can't prepare for everything.  And as much of a planner as I am, also know that, sometimes, I've got to let go.

Since I'm with the kids so much, I can find them pretty predictable.  I can anticipate the instant shedding of moodiness when the right friend calls.  I can discern the difference between, "I don't know" and "I don't know (but if you keep talking maybe I'll come up with another answer)."  I can brace myself for the drama of seventh grade.  I can plan for the adjustment of moving up to high school.  I'm prepared for the unavoidable pouts and taunts of siblings.

But just as I get things down pat, I'm gobsmacked.

At dinner recently (and really, the best tidbits come out over a meal, don't you think?), Darling Daughter (DD) was expressing the occasional uncertainty you'd expect from a middle schooler.  Snarky Son (SS), as is routine for a high schooler, interrupted her.  I said nothing, but braced myself.  DD plainly had the floor.  She had the metaphorical microphone.  SS plainly snatched that microphone.  It was rude.  He deserved a smackdown.

I clinched my jaw for the inevitable eruption of bickering.  Before DD could spit our her comeback, though, SS got out what he needed to say, "You're not unattractive, you know."

Huh?  What was that?  A compliment between siblings?  And let's be truthful here -- that was about the highest praise an older brother can offer a younger sister.

So sure, I'll keep preparing and planning -- starting with this soup that's a cinch if you keep your own flavorful chicken stock on hand in the freezer.  (Recipe here.)  But every now and again, knock on wood, knock on formica, I'm happy to embrace the unexpected.  It's not all bad, you know.

Chicken Orzo Soup

4 cups homemade chicken stock with chicken pieces

(optionally, use two cans of chicken broth with 1 cup, cut-up cooked chicken)

1/4 teaspoon dried thyme or 1 sprig of fresh thyme

Two handfuls uncooked orzo (about 2/3 cup)

16-20 baby carrots, sliced thinly

1 cup broccoli flowerettes (cut in small, spoon-size bits)
1/2 cup frozen peas (optional)

1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice

kosher salt

In a medium-sized saucepan, bring stock to a boil.  Stir in thyme and orzo and cook until pasta is almost done (still firm in the middle), about 7-8 minutes.  Stir in carrots, cook another 2 minutes.  Stir in broccoli (and peas, if using) and cook additional minute.  Stir in lemon juice and salt to taste.  Serve hot.

Be Prepared. Or At Least Keep The Freezer "Stocked."

I like to be prepared.

By that, I mean I like to be really prepared.  How else to explain that I currently have 10, 28-ounce cans of crushed tomatoes in the pantry?  (One day soon, but probably not tomorrow, I’ll buy an equally ridiculous amount of Italian sausage and make red sauce.)  I also have nearly 20 dozen regular tampons in my bathroom cabinet.  (Never mind that I’m practically perimenopausal -- it was triple coupon week!)  And what about the 21 black Sharpie Markers in the desk drawer?  (Hmm -- can’t really explain that one.)

A person might reasonably assume that my need to “stock up” is a reflection of my recent divorce, but I’ve got to confess that emergency preparedness is part of my very nature.

Remember New Year’s Eve 1999?  I do.  I was able to enjoy myself very much, because I’d heeded warnings of a catastrophic, cataclysmic computer and banking industry meltdown.  Included in my Y2K “kit” were a stack of twenties, a bunch of ones, several jugs of drinking water, a few coolers of ice and a stash of D batteries that, nine years later, has yet to be depleted.  Just to be sure, I also prepared New Year’s Day dinner the day before.  No way was I stepping into the 21st century without my share of luck and fortune.  I made enough Hoppin’ John and collards to feed the entire neighborhood. With leftovers.

Still, nothing could’ve prepared me for last weekend.  Snarky Son (SS) came down with the flu – complete with a 103 fever, a rib-clutching cough and an unusual appetite for horror movies.  (True, it was Halloween, but I also attribute the scream cinema marathon to the fact that SS was too weary to change the channel.)

Darling Daughter (DD) then got a walnut lodged in her throat.  She could still breathe and speak, but after the doctor's office warned us of the possibility of "aspirating in her sleep," we spent three-and-a-half hours in the emergency room, which was overrun with all the flu-afflicted kids in Charlotte who weren’t at home scaring themselves silly in front of the TV.  Which explains why DD and I both availed ourselves of the complimentary ER hand sanitizer every 20 minutes until her release.

All of that came on the heels of four sleepovers, a rainy Halloween block party and a miserable evening of trick-or-treating with umbrellas.  Astonishingly, no one called DSS.  Or if they did, they must’ve given the wrong number.

And here's the capper:  I had no chicken stock in the freezer.

How could that be?  I had one kid with the flu and another with a bruised throat.  Without chicken stock, there'd be no vegetable soup, no gingered spinach mushroom soup and certainly no homemade chicken noodle soup.

You can be sure the stock shortage was temporary.  I couldn't control disease or destiny, but I surely could brew up a batch of broth.  Before long, the aroma wafted through the house, warming both the kitchen and, after a compliment from DD, my heart.  Not only was there orzo vegetable soup on the stove, but the freezer shelves are stocked.  I can now sleep easy.  As soon as I figure out what to do with those Sharpie markers.

Chicken Stock (with Chicken)

10 chicken thighs (along with any other parts you might want to toss in)

3 whole carrots, peeled

3 stalks of celery (with leaves)

1 large onion, cut in quarters

2 cloves garlic, peeled

1 bay leaf

1 teaspoon whole peppercorns

4 whole cloves

5-6 sprigs parsley

1 half lemon

1 teaspoon kosher salt

Put all ingredients in a large stock pot, cover with 4-5 quarts of water, bring to boil and reduce to simmer.  Skim foam from top as needed.  After one hour, remove chicken from pot, and allow thighs to cool to touch.  Separate meat from skin from bones, discarding skin, setting aside meat and returning bones to pot.  Allow stock to simmer an additional hour, skimming as needed and adding water if needed.  Allow to cool somewhat, then strain stock, first through a colander, and then, through cheesecloth.  Skim fat, taste, and add additional seasoning, if needed.  Chop thigh meat into small bite-size pieces and return to stock.  Freeze in quart-size plastic containers, dividing meat equally among containers.  You now have the makings for homemade chicken noodle soup any day of the week!  Or, try one of these Feminine Wiles recipes, Greek-Inspired Lemon Chicken Soup, Gingered Spinach and Mushroom Soup, or Chicken Orzo Vegetable Soup.