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Heart to Heart
Sponge Cake Rx
San Diego Jewish Times, May 19, 2006 .
By Gert Thaler
Before we go any further, I want readers to understand that
I am most serious as I type the lead paragraph of this issue’s column.
I was anything but a bundle of joy and loveliness 10 days ago. Inexplicably some
muscles in the upper right region of my back have gotten themselves all tied up
in what the physical therapist, the doctor, and the masseuse all pinpoint the
cause to be “knotted muscles.”
The doctor added the unflattering comment that my muscles were “lazy” from
lack of my employing them. It was his way of laying guilt on me for not minding
his earlier instructions for a daily 45-minute walk.
The same doc (Wayne Hooper, M.D. pulmonary specialist) who ordinarily showers me
with caring attention and flattery took me for a walk and said that this old
body would welcome the use of oxygen while I was on the trail. Since this doctor
is on my A list, I really try to follow his instructions, which included my
investing in a backpack to carry the oxygen tank. That suggestion came on a
follow-up visit to him since I was complaining about schlepping around a tank in
a canvas bag and shoulder holster, which weighed heavily on my aging shoulder.
So a trip out to a place called Adventure 16, which is an all-encompassing
sports shop on Cedros Avenue in Solana Beach, produced my request for “the
best structured backpack, which would lighten the load and make the hike more
agreeable.
A splendid investment ($75). I sailed down the neighborhood
streets barely feeling the contents of the pack, tubes affixed to my nostrils
and blessing the doc for his tender, loving care. My granddaughter and I walked
along Mission Bay and she continually complimented my stride. When I stopped for
a rest it had nothing to do with breathing, but that my feet were asking for
time out.
It took one more day, and voila! The muscles knotted and exploded in pain to the
extent that lying down was most uncomfortable, sitting in any chair wasn’t
much better, but walking produces no pain whatsoever.
You name it, I’ve tried it, welcoming all offers of treatment. Pain pills, ibuprofen, Tylenol and its blue-colored sister, Tylenol PM. More potent prescriptions were filled and my bathroom sink is covered with pharmacy bottles.
Nearly three weeks of misery filled my days and left me
sleepless through most nights.
I caught the gold ring on the Medicare merry-go-round when my friend, Dr. Marty
Shoman, helped me through the maze of hoopla in selecting a prescription plan,
which has resulted in establishing new relations with my pharmacist. I
subscribed to the Humana plan at $11.25 per month and have been a real winner in
getting prescriptions at prices that keep a smile on my face.
Phone calls poured in with suggested cures. I was utilizing frozen peas as ice bags, followed by similar packages of frozen corn. The heating pad was turned on to “high.” Ointments were smeared. Hot showers consumed gallons of precious water.
One night I spied one of my famous sponge cakes in the garage freezer encased in Saran Wrap. The peas had defrosted and so had the corn kernels from my body’s heat. And the discomfort of those bags as they left deep body impressions were beginning to get to me.
Reaching the point of desperation, I asked myself what harm could it possibly do to apply the frozen sponge cake on the affected area. At least it had the buoyancy of a pillow and desperation was beginning to set in and I welcomed any ideas of bringing comfort. This proved to be the best of any of the other ice packs and at last I had found good use for the six sponge cakes that had been occupying freezer space. Especially coming upon the heels of the package of peas accidentally coming apart and spilling onto my sheets.
In case readers don’t believe in miracles, let me tell you that it just ain’t true. That wizard M.D. of mine, Hooper, suggested I try Del Mar Physical Therapy, employing suggested different treatment. Following that direction, and dragging myself to their 14th Street offices and into the care of Darren (another wizard), I walked away from his treatment minus any pain. Hooper checked me again as well and amazingly found that miracles indeed can occur. I spent the balance of that day at lunch with a friend and then took in a movie (Kinky Boots at the Hillcrest Theatre, not to be missed) and all that muscular madness has become a thing of the past.
Why do I make this escapade the subject to this issue’s column?
In case an ambitious reader is also a sponge cake maker, he/she should remember that such baked goods have double use. It’s a lot like having vinegar on a kitchen shelf that serves many purposes other than flavoring a salad. However, it would be well to use the peas only as a vegetable accompaniment for dinner. As an ice bag they failed the test and now the lavender sheets are tinted with green dots.
Corn kernels made a good pudding, some corn latkes and were swirled into a savory chowder.