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The Westinghouse


    Through the fall and winter of 2007-2008, we were a household of infirmity.

    Jesse and I with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, and Al with fibromyalgia, were doing our usual chronic routine. And one of our daughters had worn herself to nothin' when she'd been away for a summer job. The end of summer had left her exhausted and drooping. I took alot of comfort from the fact that we had one other daughter at home who was full of energy and happily on the go. The rest of us were in the bag.

    When I think of that fall and winter, what I remember most is cooking, and doling out supplements. Feeding and nourishing occupied my thoughts above all else.

    Jesse was in bed from CFS most of the time. I would see him long enough to shove food at him, and hand him his supplements for the day -- omega 3 oil caps, Siberian ginseng, calcium and magnesium, and Vitamins B, C, D and E. He couldn't eat much at a time so his food drops would happen frequently throughout the day. Apple slices as a morning snack, sliced celery and cucumbers in the afternoon, baby carrots in the evening.

    I made wholewheat pancakes with ground flax every morning for the Carb Eaters in the house (everyone but me) and as an appetizer with each person's plate was a little bowl of their daily supplements. They got another bowl with their dinner. Made people drink vegetable juices from my juicer. They drank liquid chlorophyll.

    Our healthy daughter was off to work, off to play, radiating energy. (Thank God.) Our other daughter was just barely well enough to drag off to work part-time, and spent the rest of her days curled up in a blanket, watching movies and sleeping.

    There was a lot of sleeping going on, or at least being attempted, that season. It was hibernation time.

    i'm going to tell you an old joke. Nobody in my house thinks it's funny but me. But I like it, so you're hearing it too.

    A guy opens his fridge and is surprised to see a rabbit leaning back relaxing on one of the shelves, paws folded behind his head. The guy says, "What are you doing in my fridge?"

    The rabbit says, "Isn't this a Westinghouse?" [For the young'uns, this was a brand of refrigerator.]

    The guy says, "Yeah. So what?"

    The rabbit settles in a little more comfortably. "Well, I'm Westing."

    That joke crossed my mind a million times during our hibernation period. That's what we were. And even yet, that is what we are.

    Welcome to the Westinghouse.

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