Turkey, Stuffing, & Reflection
Here we are, the week after Thanksgiving. We are lucky enough to have a family that enjoys our cooking and tolerates our company, so we get to host Thanksgiving! This was our fourth year hosting, and I think we would both agree that we got it right this time. If you don’t spatchcock your turkey, you are doing your family a disservice. I spatchocked a twenty-five pound bird, and it cooked beautifully in about three hours. I’ve had issues with the turkey cooking unevenly the past couple of years. The breast meat would be great but the dark meat wouldn’t get completely done and would need to go back into the oven for another thirty minutes. Anyhow, spatchcocking the turkey did the trick. Ashley made her killer cornbread stuffing. When she par-baked the stuffing the night before, she forgot to cover it like she normally would. This meant that the top of the stuffing was going to be extra crisp after heating it up in the oven on Thanksgiving day. She was a bit worried about it, but it ended up being the best iteration of the recipe yet.
That’s the end of the ‘Thanksgiving Food Talk’ portion of this update. I will share a few of the recipes that we used as guides at the bottom of the post.
Throughout the year and especially around the holiday, I have been doing some serious reflection. This has been a year of tremendous change for me as a human and for us as a family. I’ve had body parts removed, received poisonous medicine, been given a unit of another human’s blood, and am the proud owner of four rather prominent new scars. This year has also brought a different kind of change. I don’t think there has been a time in my life, certainly my adult life, that I’ve been so dependent on others. I’ve always thought of myself as a fairly independent and hard-working person. This year I missed 18 weeks of work and needed to be tended to during the majority of those 18 weeks.
This has also been an eye-opening year; I’ve been exposed to the tremendous impact that cancer can have on a person’s life and the prevalence of the disease. The clinic in Dubuque has a separate waiting room for oncology patients. The general oncology waiting room in Iowa City was always full. This is not a small room waiting room. There are people there from all walks of life, all age groups, all races, all religions, and they are there for the same reason. Some of us are better off than others, and we are all at different stages of diagnosis, treatment, recovery, relapse, or maintenance. I found it to be humbling. It has changed my perspective about what I complain about, what I care about, and how I interact with others. I hope this new perspective lasts.
Through all of these changes and challenges, there is an endless number of things and people who I am thankful for. Here is a short and incomplete list.
My wife, Ashley. It is not an exaggeration when I say that this lady kept me alive. She figured out what I could eat, made sure I stuck to my post surgery diet, took care of everything around the house, communicated with the outside world on my behalf, spent hours on the phone helping the insurance company understand their mistakes, and most importantly of all, being my rock. Now that we are out of the thick of treatment, I’m learning about everything she went through. Man, anyone that compliments me on being ‘brave’ or being an inspiration, needs to know about Ashley and all of the other caretakers that are out there helping someone through chemo.
Doctors, donors, science, nurses, nursing assistants, and CT technologists. I have been incredibly lucky to have an amazing medical team working on me this year. They may not have laughed at any of my jokes (I didn’t even get sympathy laughs), but they did answer all of my questions, taught me a lot about what my body was going through, and helped to guide us through a series of life change experiences. They were incredibly considerate and compassionate. From the weird anesthesiologist who wanted to show me a picture of my innards since he wasn’t able to get a photo of the tumor, to the CT techs who would help me sit up after completing my scan because I was too weak or was just a couple weeks into recover from surgery and couldn’t get up on my own without being in pain. I didn’t need to ask, they knew, and it meant a lot.
Family & Friends. One of the best outcomes of this has been the rekindled friendships and relationships with family. It’s hard to describe how much the regular text messages, phone calls, FB messages, and emails helped. Without the regular ‘dad jokes,’ ‘interesting facts of the day,’ calls to check-in, and long conversations over coffee, it would have been pretty difficult to stay positive. Thank you!
McGraw-Hill Colleagues. The meal prep, toasts, the donation to the Get Nick to Iowa City Over and Over fund, and the Nick McFadden basket in the relay for life raffle were all really wonderful surprises! This is a truly special place to work with even more special people. I was continuously surprised by the notes I would receive from people across the organization and even now by the people who stop me in the hall or elevator to ask how I’m doing. A lot of the time, they are people who I may have been in one meeting with five years ago or someone who I had a drink with at a sales meeting. The sense of community and the sincerity of everyone’s concern blew me away.
Health Insurance. If we didn’t have insurance, we would be dead broke. We would have had to sell our house and everything we own. My guess is that my treatment, surgery, all of the imaging/scans, medication, and miscellaneous procedures would have cost us well over $1,500,000. I will work on finding the actual figure but my estimation is that the surgery at the beginning of August cost almost $1,000,000. Just like I cant imagine what it would be like to go though this on my own, I can’t begin to imagine the financial stress that less fortunate folks endure when they have a serious illness. Medical treatment should not be considered a privilege. The idea that I would have needed to pass up a life saving procedure for financial reasons is gross. Socio-economic status should not determine the type of medical treatment you receive.
I would also like to take this opportunity to thank milkshakes, Small Family Farm CSA, the air suspension in our car, anti-nausea medication, coffee, doggy day care, HeadSpace, ESPN, heated blankets, flavored water, jolly ranchers, grocery delivery, amazon.com, dog walkers, sweatpants, our recliners, Starbucks baristas, and chemo ports.
As you can see, I have a lot to be thankful for. Most importantly, I am thankful for being officially cancer free!
It’s weird, I have had a difficult time writing about how it feels to be cancer free. So, I’m going to break it up into a few posts over the remainder of the year. I have also started working with a personal trainer. I’ll write more about that soon. Regular workouts haven’t been a part of my life. I’m learning a lot and am already seeing some progress.
Thank you all for the encouraging comments and for reading all of my posts this year. This blog has been a great tool for me. It’s helped me digest all of the stuff that we’ve worked through. It has also made me more comfortable with having real conversations about uncomfortable things. (That was quite the sentence) So, thank you! I hope you had a great thanksgiving and that you’ve taken a moment to reflect on your year and what you’re thankful for. It may seem like a trivial thing but believe me, its quite amazing how many people play a role in our daily lives.
————- Recipes ————
Pickled Red Onions (great on leftover turkey sandwiches)