Cooking for my family, or what’s left of it, is a joy to me. The same was true this year with one exception. It was hard on my body.

The joints in my hands don’t move like they used to so gripping, stirring and holding heavy food trays is tough. There were spills, moments when I had to spray my hands with lidocaine to get through. There were also complete meltdowns due to my frustration being unable to do things the way they were done in the past. 

My feet weren’t much better. Pain meds and lidocaine didn’t work after standing for an hour or more to monitor boiling pots, food sautéing, or items baking. I sat when I could, rubbed and soaked my feet when I was done the sprayed them with lidocaine or benzocaine just to sleep.

I wish I could say my spine wasn’t an issue. It was too. Bending down to put away dishes, take out the trash or clean, especially the oven was problematic. To take care of that discomfort required tramadol and menthol rubs. 

I figured I’d have some difficulty in advance. I purchased special tools like silicone bake wear which are lighter, a jar opener for weak hands, a good grips peeler, soft grip knives and arthritis friendly prep containers. 

I also broke down my tasks over two days to get most of the meal done: dressing , mac and cheese, Orecchiette Pasta with Sausage and Broccoli rabe, mashed potatoes, yellow rice with peas, honey glazed spiral ham, chocolate chunk cookies and brownies. 

The star of the show, the herb butter turkey, amplified my weaknesses. Lifting it, trying by to cut out the back bone, seasoning and buttering it caused my hands to shake in pain, the nerves in my back to throb and my toes feeling like they were broken. 

To cook it, my husband to be my hands. He will lift it to be basted every 30 minutes. He will do the same with the ham. He will lay out our dishes. And, he will carve this year.  The meal will now be a team task. 

Cooking is still my joy even though it comes with great pain due to the connective tissue/ joint deterioration from the autoimmune disease I live with (igg4-rd) and aging. However, breaking bread with those I love feeds my spirit. It fuels me to push myself. Making this meal reminds me that what ails may slow me down and change old patterns yet it also makes me thankful for how resilient I was made and remain.

Happy Thanksgiving! (I’m headed back to the kitchen) 

(P.S.  as you can see by my shirt, my sense of humor hasn’t faded either!)

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