Meat and Potatoes Casserole

Good Tuesday morning!

Wasn't Monday a nice day... especially compared to Sunday? I love a clear day after a stormy one? Our state was hit hard, but our particular neck of the woods was spared. Our hearts and prayers go out to the people who suffered loss, and the families who lost loved ones.

Before we get to the business at hand, I did want to tell you a little story about the Drive-In Saturday night. I specifically called to find out the running time for Fast and Furious, because even though I like Vin Diesel (The Pacifier), I knew Fast and Furious was not a Disney-type film. On the contrary. It was for a totally different crowd. The information I received was the movie lasted one hour and 50 minutes. The movie started at 7:15, so I figured 9:15 would be a safe time to arrive to watch Mall Cop. Wrong.

We pulled in the Drive-In at 9:15, and there were things on the big screen not suitable for 12 year-old girls... or 47 year-old mothers. "Girls, get in the floor," I yelled. They minded and played and looked away from the screen. I got out of the car and went to the concession stand. A very nice teenage girl opened the screen and asked if she could help me.

"Did you start the movie later than 7:15?" I asked.

"No, ma'am. We started right at 7:15," she responded.

"Well, how much time is left for this movie?" I asked, trying another approach.

"About 15 or 20 minutes."

"Then you must have started a little late because that would make it a two hour and 20 minute movie," I said... more to myself than to her.

"No, ma'am. This movie is one of those two and a half hour movies," she responded.

We were both being polite. I was just trying to figure out how much time we had to kill in the floorboard of the big gold van. A young man (another teenager) in the concession stand corrected her.

"No, no. It's at least a three hour movie." WRONG!

I wasn't going to argue with them. They were being very respectful. I was just trying to figure out how much longer before the next movie. And then the sweet girl told me, "If it's bothering you, you could go ride around for 20 or 30 minutes and then come back."

That idea wasn't too appealing. Argo is pretty much "out there," and the thought of "riding around" until the movie let out, and then being on the road with the teenage boys who had just seen the UNBELIEVABLY DANGEROUS DRIVING STUNTS on the big screen just screamed CRAZY to me.

"Uh, I think we'll just stay in the floorboard," I replied. And we did. We turned off the sound, the girls played in the back, and I sat with my mouth hanging open at the things that were shown in the last 15 minutes of that movie. I don't know if I'll be able to see Pacifier 2 if it ever comes out. Vin Diesel was a totally different person in this movie. And, of course, if I read the lips correctly at the end, they left it open for Fast and Furious 4. Can't wait! NOT!

A Little Bit of My Story - Part 2

The day after being released from the hospital, I still felt very weak, but I attributed everything to the diabetes. Again, 212 seemed like a very high number to me. I scheduled a time to see a nutritionist to learn how to eat (diabetic-style), and totally took myself off sugar until that time.

I went to an eye doctor at 8:00 Monday morning to check and make sure there was no damage to my eye (as instructed by the ER doctor), and was assured there was none.

Later Monday morning, at Roxie's school Christmas party, it happened again. The only differences this time around were no eye problems, but added sweating and dizziness. I felt as though I was going to faint. I left the party, drove to a fast food restaurant and ordered some food (no sugar), and ate in the parking lot until I began to feel better (about an hour or so). I was still thinking diabetes.

I attended the classes for eating (diabetic-style), and for a few weeks everything went back to normal. I didn't feel any differently. Then one night, standing in line at Wal-Mart, the sickening feeling began again. I couldn't breathe. My chest was heavy. I thought I was going to pass out. I had seen a friend earlier that evening in the store, and looking around I spotted her at the entrance talking to someone. I made my way to her and asked her if she could stay with me until Mike came to get me. I knew I didn't need to drive. She walked with me to my car, followed us home and then took Mike back to Wal-Mart to pick up the big gold van. As was now becoming my pattern, in about an hour my symptoms started subsiding.

However, I now had a diabetic meter. My blood sugar was within the 70 to 100 range. Whatever was making me so sick was not diabetes.

The next day as I was ironing, I had the television on and saw the commercial featuring Aretha Franklin. She talked about her blood sugar being well over 400 before she began feeling terribly ill. "I must be the biggest weenie in the world," I thought to myself. She would probably laugh at 212. I then started asking around, and I found out that 212 was not considered a high number at all. Especially when the majority of the time my blood sugar was well within the acceptable range. Something else was going on.

Several more weeks passed, and we were all sitting in the den watching Survivor. Roxie was sitting on my lap in the rocker when my vision again faded in my left eye, and the exact same symptoms returned. I immediately got up and checked my sugar. It was normal. I called Mike in the bedroom and asked him to take me to the paramedics to check my blood pressure because we weren't talking diabetes any longer.

The paramedics were wonderful... but my blood pressure was not. It was 170 over something (I don't remember EVERYTHING). Now, I have NEVER had high blood pressure. I have always been blessed with very LOW blood pressure. That's one good thing that does run in my family. The paramedics told Mike to get me to the hospital at once because it looked like I was either having or about to have a heart attack. Off we went again. (Neighbors sat with the kids until my Mom was able to get to the house.)

I was hooked up to the machines again. I had vial after vial of blood taken again. And Mike sat there looking pitiful and rubbing my hand again. After an hour and a half, my symptoms started subsiding, and the ER doctor came in and said I did not have a heart attack or a stroke. He suggested panic attacks.

"I am not imagining all the things going on in my body," I retorted. "I am having real symptoms."

"Exactly. Panic attacks have real symptoms. There's nothing about them that is make believe," he assured me.

He told me to make an appointment with my regular doctor the next day, and take it from there. I did and she saw me the day after I called her. What happened next is a trip down "Doctor Lane."

Tomorrow, I'll share how a perfectly healthy 45 year-old woman was doing very well December 15, and totally fell apart December 16. At one point in the first quarter of 2008, I was going to eight (COUNT THEM... EIGHT) different doctors. Let's name them, shall we?

1. Internist

2. OB/GYN

3. Cardiologist

4. Neurologist

5. Psychiatrist

6. Rheumatologist (I have arthritis... He didn't really have anything to do with my panic attacks.)

7. Podiatrist (To be honest, I only saw him once. He went with the diabetes diagnosis and had to check circulation in my feet. It tickled... meaning the circulation in my feet was fine, and I just needed to see him if I experienced any problems in that area. Bye-bye!)

8. Optometrist (I have to be checked every six months because of my "eye thing" which isn't related to diabetes at all. Turns out it is called an ocular migraine which sometimes occurs prior to my panic attacks. There is no pain involved, but there is no rhyme or reason to them either.)

Before we get into tomorrow's story, I would like to say the eight is now down to five... and I don't really count my OB/GYN or Rheumatologist or Optometrist in this mix. They are just check-up doctors. Oh, and I don't count my dentist either. Again, just a check-up/cleaning thing. So actually, I'm down to TWO... and I'm praying that one day very soon, those will be gone, also. (Nothing against either one of them... great doctors. I'm just so ready to move on.)

Meat and Potatoes Casserole

This recipe was donated by my friend Melaney's mom, Shelby Dutton.

You will need the following:

1 1/2 pound hamburger meat
Salt and pepper
Thinly sliced onion
Thinly sliced red potatoes
Cream of Chicken soup
3/4 cup of milk
Shredded cheddar cheese

1. Press the hamburger meat in a 9" x 13" casserole dish. (Do not brown meat.)

2. Salt and pepper.

3. Place thinly sliced onion on top of meat. (The onion can be easily removed if you have children who do not like onions.)

4. Place thinly sliced red potatoes on top of onions.

5. Salt and pepper potatoes.

6. Mix Cream of Chicken and milk together in a bowl. Drizzle it over the potatoes.

7. Bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour 15 minutes or until potatoes are fork tender.

8. Sprinkle shredded cheese over casserole and place in the oven for another five minutes until cheese melts.

9. Let casserole sit about five minutes before serving.

That's it! If you have a meat and potato kind of family (which I do), this should be a hit! The Faulkner Five are trying it Wednesday night, and I'll let you know if it gets a five star rating Thursday morning.

Please have a good Tuesday. Don't let anything or anyone stand in your way of finding the joy this day has to offer. It's officially spring, you know. Tomorrow's Seasonal Tradition is a good one, so don't let my scary panic attack stories keep you away. Come on back and check it out.

Take care, and I'll talk to you tomorrow.