Occasionally, a design idea needs to go through several drafts before I feel I’ve gotten in ‘right’. When this happens, I usually rip back to the problem spot (or the beginning) and start again.

And yet, with this draft, I couldn’t bear to rip it out. Even though the ribs weren’t lining up properly. Even though the edging wasn’t nearly deep enough. Even though I knew I’d have to knit another one, just to get the instructions right.

I cast on for this project one of my last days in Tofino last month. I don’t often knit in garter, but in this yarn (Blue Moon Fiber Arts Mediumweight) on size 3.5mm needles, it feels just squishy and awesome. I wanted to play with a different type of shawl shape, again, to maximize small amounts of yarn and play with pattern and direction.

The shawl starts at the neck and works outward, increasing by 6 sts every 2 rows instead of the standard 4 for a regular triangle. I’m using travelling stitches combined with a simple ripple and I absolutely love it.

Unfortunately, knitting up the ‘final’ draft has been a bit more problematic.

I worked through three or four different yarns and different colourways, and none of them made me as happy as the original – River Rocked.

I finally broke down and wound up my precious ball of Loch Ness mediumweight STR. It’s one of the colourways ‘on vacation’ right now, and I’d been saving it for something special.

You know. Something exactly like this new design.

So, the second draft is well underway, and assuming I can stay up knitting through the entire Jays game tonight (it’s a 10pm start!), it’ll likely be finished this weekend.

It’s been 4 weeks since I left mom and came back to Toronto.

And 4 more weeks since her stem cell transplant.

She’s now 64 days post-transplant. I realize, in the grand scheme of recovery, she’s got 4 to 10 more months to go, for her system to fully rebuild, for her strength to fully return.

I call her every morning on my way to work, and every evening on the way home, and I’m good at being encouraging, of reminding her of the big picture. With mom, I find it easy to congratulate her on the small (but oh-so-big) victories. Yesterday, it was managing to keep down all of her food, all day, for the first time in ages.

And yet, privately… just between you and I… can I admit that I’m absolutely terrified I encouraged her into the wrong decision?

Neither of us understands why every day is getting harder, rather than easier. When I left St. Charles, she could walk for 20 or 30 minutes. Now? She can’t make it one lap around the indoor mall. When I left, she was getting down 1500 calories a day, and keeping them down. Now? She’s throwing up (mostly) daily, despite additional medications. She’s weak, shaky, and ‘walks like a drunk’ (to quote what she said this morning).

I called the doctors last week to find out if this was a normal thing at this point in her recovery. They could just tell me her blood counts look good, give her an additional anti-nausea medication, and put her on something to stimulate her appetite. And of course, reiterate that everyone’s recovery is unique.

All reassurance aside, I’m at the point where I’ve accepted that if mom’s not in a full remission next week when she gets those results, that I can’t ask her to go through any more chemo. And perhaps, undergoing a stem cell transplant at age 67, as healthy as she was going into it, was a bad idea.

What if she doesn’t fully recover? What if this is what the rest of her life will be for her? This treatment was so much more brutal than I’d imagined… and I’d prepared myself for all of the side effects and complications. I just wasn’t prepared to see her still struggling with basic tasks, so long post-transplant. And I wasn’t prepared to have to leave her in the care of good neighbors and friends, while she’s still so weak.

Don’t get me wrong. I fully realize that Mom’s decision to do the transplant was, in the end, her decision. But I do know that I encouraged her, and that most of her motivation was to have more time to spend with me. But can you blame me for second guessing that now?

When do things start to turn around?

Yesterday was a rough day for me. Mom is slipping back a bit, and has had increasing problems keeping food down. It’s impossible to not worry, and it’s impossible for me to do anything to help from here, aside from providing what emotional support I can offer. By the time I got home, I was tired, frustrated, and needing something to take my mind off of the stress for a bit.

I could have reheated something, or just thrown something on the grill, but I wanted to spend a bit of time working some culinary alchemy, spend a bit of time experimenting in the kitchen. Here’s what I came up with. And it was DELICIOUS. Enjoy!

I chose to both cook with and serve a Sonoma-Cutter Chardonnay. The rich buttery-ness of the wine stood up really well to the hearty grilled fish and creamy risotto.

If you’ve never made risotto before because you were scared of the difficulty, don’t be. It’s not difficult and it’s not all that time consuming. You do need to keep an eye on things, and stir frequently. But the resulting rich and creamy dish is out of this world, and is great for both a side dish and a simple entree.

Bacon-Wrapped Marlin Steak
Ingredients for 1

• Marlin (or other firm fish) steak, approximately 1″ thick
• 3 strips thick-cut, applewood smoked bacon
• Italian seasoning or dried basil, oregano, rosemary, salt and pepper

Preheat the grill to 500.

Generously season the marlin steak and wrap with the bacon. Secure by pushing toothpicks all the way through the side of the fish. Grill over direct heat for approximately 4 minutes on each side. You’ll get a few flare-ups because of the bacon grease, so keep an eye on things. The bacon should be reasonably crisp and the fish will be cooked all the way through.

Mushroom Risotto
Ingredients for 4 generous servings

• 1 1/2 C arborio rice
• 1 medium onion, finely diced and split into half
• 4oz sliced mushrooms
• 1/2 C chardonnay
• 5-6 C chicken broth or stock.
• 1/2 C good quality aged parmesan, shredded
• pinch saffron
• 2 T olive oil
• 2 T butter
• Salt, pepper

In a sautee pan, heat the butter. Add half of the diced onion and season with salt and pepper as desired. Add the sliced mushrooms and cook over medium-low heat until the mushrooms release their juices and soften – approximately 10 minutes. Turn heat to lowest setting to keep warm.

In a small sauce pot, heat the broth until boiling. Turn to low and cover to keep hot.

Meanwhile, in a large sauce pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat.

Add the other half of the diced onion, and again season. Stir to coat and cook for approximately 5 minutes, or until the onion bits are translucent and soft. Add the rice and cook for 1 minute more.

Crumble the saffron into the wine and add both to the rice mixture. Cook, stirring continuously, until the liquid is almost entirely dissolved into the rice.

Here’s the fun part.

1/2 C at a time, add the hot broth into the rice, stirring frequently, and waiting until the liquid has dissolved before adding more. This process takes about 20 minutes. After 15, begin to try the rice to test for done-ness.

After the risotto is thick and creamy and fully cooked, stir in the mushrooms and the parmesan. Season with salt and pepper as desired.

When packing to move to Chicago for those 7 weeks, I was a wee bit over-zealous with the amount of stash yarn that travelled along. I had enough for several sweaters, many accessories, and even a sweater in progress (that still isn’t complete).

I did, however, choose wisely when packing the swatch and ball of yarn for what would become this new pattern, Riverbank Road.

I started the garment on my first visit to see mom at Loyola hospital in Maywood. When visiting the Bone Marrow Transplant Unit, you follow certain procedures to minimize the risk of infection for the patient. Coats and outerwear and bags go into big plastic trash bags before being brought into the room. Anything meant to stay with the patient – including mail, newspapers, or personal items – has to be washed and wiped down with bleach wipes. Visitors wear masks and limit contact with the patient.

Because of all this, I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to knit in the unit, so I just brought a small bag and this single ball of sock yarn. I asked the nurse, half afraid of what she’d say. After all, a transplant patient does a lot of sitting and sleeping for those first few weeks, and the hour drive made me reluctant to come for anything but a substantial visit.

The nurse laughed. Of course I could knit in the room.

So that first day, I cast on from the notes I’d taken a few weeks before, for a shrug-like summer layer that could be knit with a single skein of sock yarn. (Of which I have tons.)

As with many of my designs, Riverbank Road started with just two questions; what pattern would I choose for the edging, and how many stitches would I cast on?

I love designing that way because it gives me freedom to get into the project before deciding what twists or features I want to add. It also helps support my knitter’s fear of getting… well… bored.

In this case, I started just with that lower edging, and as I worked into the stockinette portions at the sides, decided to continue the lace bit up the center of the back and the fronts, allowing it to travel as I shaped the front neckline, and mirroring that detail on the back.

Riverbank Road was a quick and fun knit that used just about 300 yards of sock yarn for the smallest size. It’s probably a wee bit tight on Kate, my lovely model, so I decided to add some modifications to the published pattern to allow for more coverage in front for all sizes.

So, you actually have a choice; choose your size based on chest measurement, and then choose whether to knit the ‘busty’ or ‘regular’ version. This allows the pattern to span sizes from 30″ to 50″ and provide a nice fit for both the front – and back – of the wearer.

Want the pattern?

$5.00 US

More on the pattern >

For the past week, I’ve been back in sweet home Chicago Toronto getting settled back into my own life. I had all these good intentions for my time with Mom. I’d blog daily. I’d go to yoga. I’d focus on health – hers and mine – and use my work hours to dig into some big strategic projects.

Right.

You’re laughing right now, aren’t you?

Yeah, in retrospect, I was definitely far off the mark. I’d totally underestimated what it’d be like to be a full time caretaker, responsible for food, snacks, water, medication, exercise, line care, emotional support, cleaning, washing clothes, taking care of the house, the tenant, and the animals. And then, working full time, albeit in some mighty strange hours.

I did everything right to prepare. I read every book, website, pamphlet. I knew the risks, the side-effects, the responsibilities and the recovery time. And yes, everything with the procedure and Mom’s recovery has gone absolutely predictably. And yes, it was all much worse, much harder, than I’d prepared for.

If you ever have to support someone going through a stem cell transplant – and I hope to God that you do not – know these three things. Warning, it ain’t pretty.

1. All vomit is not the same. There’s chemo side-effect vomit. There’s dark green vomit from the drugs. There’s the gag-reflex vomit when your stomach is trying to process simple foods again. There’s the acid-reflux vomit and the out-of-nowhere vomit. And they’re all terrible and violent, and you become very used to analyzing whether any actual food stayed in, and what the vomit might mean.
2. Drinking is the number one goal. And I’m not talking about a glass of wine for the caretaker after hours. The single biggest problem for newly discharged patients is dehydration. Dehydration causes weakness, blood pressure problems, dizziness and… vomiting. You might think it would be easy to drink 8 glasses of fluid a day. It couldn’t be harder. Every sip for the patient is a struggle, especially since taste buds are all screwed up and everything – even water – has a metallic taste.

   Now, imagine that for a minute. You know you need to hydrate – at all costs – but every sip makes you want to throw up. And then when you do, imagine how discouraged you are to have fought to get all that down, just to have to start all over again.

   We found that Vitamin Water was the key. When water, juice, milk, gatorade, and pedialyte all failed, Vitamin Water had just enough taste – without carbonation – and those helpful electrolytes. It got us over that initial hump after a very frustrating week.

3. The patient doesn’t remember…anything. Call it chemo-brain, or call it self-preservation. I discovered that there are huge periods of time from the hospital where Mom has no memory. And then when we came home, she’d ask the same questions over and over again, sometimes only minutes apart.

   On the other hand, as the caretaker, you’re the one to answer those questions without losing patience. You’re the one to remember the sometimes terrible things you heard come out of the patient’s mouth.

   The brain does come back. Mom was already much clearer, much more focused, a week or two after being released from the hospital.

I’ve never been as tired as I was for those seven weeks. I’ve never been as frustrated, as supportive, as encouraging, as disappointed, as proud. The recovery process is an incredible fight. Good days and bad days are defined by millimeters of difference. Goals are teeny tiny, but no less satisfying.

But as hard as it was, I couldn’t be more happy to have been able to be there for mom during this. I honestly don’t know how she would have gotten through without family there.

It was hard enough with just one of me.

You name it, I’ve seen it.

There was the pine-green bile-filled vomit. The applesauce and canned peaches that wouldn’t stay down. Blood from her catheter. Her tomato-soup-like stem cells being re-infused. Yellow platelet infusions. And other stuff that doesn’t need to be described.

She’s been home for nearly a week and yet today, we found ourselves driving back to Maywood, nearly an hour on the freeway, because she couldn’t keep any food down and was running a moderate temperature that Tylenol wasn’t helping.

I don’t know how I was able to drive. I was consumed, overtaken, and oppressed by worry. What had we done wrong? What if she had to be admitted? What if she had an infection? A complication from the transplant?

I wheeled her in a chair down to the High Dose Unit; the facility where transplant outpatients receive chemo and other tests. And as soon as we got there, they hooked her up to IV fluids and mentioned that she was likely very dehydrated.

See. I knew this. I was told when we were discharged that dehydration is a transplant patient’s worst enemy. Even though it’s a struggle to drink, it’s the single most important thing. Her goal was 2L a day, and we got close a few times, but I’d let things slip over the past few days. I’d managed to make sure she always had a bottle of water within reach, supplemented by treats like shakes, floats, juice, and 7-Up. And yet, I know that she often didn’t finish even the tiny 8oz provided. It was such a struggle getting her to finish things that I backed off when I shouldn’t have.

I knew this. And I’m so frustrated that I knew it and we still ended up making that drive, putting her through all that, pretty much needlessly.

And she’s so very frustrated that food, liquid, pills, don’t want to stay down. She’s not used to a body that’s this fragile and easily upset. And she’s definitely not used to even bottled water – her favorite beverage – tasting so very terrible.

Now she’s on strict orders to get down at least a litre of pedialyte or gatorade before bed. She’s got new anti-nausea medication, and they still haven’t ruled out an infection or illness like C Diff.

And so goes recovery. Just like life, it’s hardly that ideal straight line upwards and onwards. It’s more like riding a wave back to shore. Little ups, little downs.

Was today a setback? Yes. But maybe it was an important one too.

Maybe she needed to hear that something as simple as drinking enough is really the most important thing right now. Life or death important.

And maybe I needed to be reminded that my role isn’t always to be tender and loving. That I need to work harder to make sure she’s also doing the things she needs to do in order to get better.

So, I like to think of this recipe as “Two Apples Soup” as it uses 1 apple and 1 sweet potato to form a rich and silky soup.

A bonus; you can easily use this recipe to make a low fat / super-healthy meal, or modify for higher calories like I’ve done for mom this week.

Makes 2 generous servings – you can adjust quantities however you like to make more or less.

Ingredients:
1 sweet potato/yam
1 apple (Gala, Fuji, Jazz, or the like)
1/2 onion or 1 shallot
1 clove garlic
2 T olive oil or butter (optional – you can use Pam instead)
1 Qt chicken broth or stock
1/2C milk or cream (optional)

Heat a medium saucepan with olive oil or Pam over moderate heat. Chop onion and add. Chop garlic and add, stir to mix. Sautee for 2 minutes while you prepare the apple.

Peel apple, core, and coarsely chop. Add to pan.
Peel sweet potato and coarsely chop. Add to pan.

Stir to coat, add chicken broth/stock and make sure liquid fully covers the apples and vegetables. Bring to a boil.

Now, choose how you want to season. I like these two options:

1. Southwestern Chipotle – needs 1 small can of chipotle peppers in adobo sauce. Coarsely chop chipotle pepper (1 or 2) and add to pot along with 1 T of adobo sauce. Season with salt and pepper and a bit of cumin or cilantro.

2. Savory/Sweet – add 1T cinnamon, a pinch of nutmeg, and optionally, 1T of brown sugar. Season with salt.

For either option, stir to combine well and bring back to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer, partially covered, until apples and sweet potatoes are fork-tender. About 20-30 minutes, depending on the size of apples and sweet potato chunks used.

When soup is nearly done, add milk or cream if using and stir to combine.

Using an immersion blender or regular blender, puree soup in batches until silky smooth. Taste and adjust seasonings as desired.

I’m feeling like I’m run ragged right now, largely from all the, well… running around I’ve been doing for the past few weeks!

We go back to Loyola for an update tomorrow, and I’m expecting to see her numbers continuing to climb!

I knew I had about a gazillion balls of Kureyon in my stash back in Calgary. And so I kept knitting.

And suddenly I had two panels. And then three.

And then I got distracted by something else. Work, or life, or another design… who can remember three years back?

More often than not, when I put a design project aside for weeks, or months (or longer), it’s destined to be forever relegated to the frog pond.

About a year later, when our house got infested with… gasp… clothes moths, the blanket-in-progress had a few cocoons on it too. I was horrified.

While the rest of my stash was alternately frozen (see above) and microwaved, the blanket actually went into the washing machine on delicate. I was relying on years of felting and fulling experience, and the endless frustration (and endless cycles of HOT) that it takes to get Kureyon to significantly felt.

And I knew too, it was the only hope. (Sandra didn’t trust that a good hand-washing would solve the problem.)

Well worth the risk, the blanket piece came out perfectly soft and completely moth-free. And eventually, I started knitting new panels again, in bits and pieces, when I found a new colourway I wanted to buy, or when I stumbled across some Noro in my stash.

It became the perfect travel project. I brought small panels to work for getting a few rows in during our weekly status updates. But then, of course, once I fell into the delight of watching the colours change, I couldn’t put it down.

So I finished it. At last. Over 3 years after the initial cast on.

And you know what?

It’s perfect.

Go get the pattern >

When I travel to teach, I don’t often have the opportunity to schedule classes over multiple days, and never over multiple weeks. That means that my project classes are really ‘get started’ classes, often working through a miniature version of the project to get in all the key skills, and spending lots of time talking about yarn choice, sizing, and fit.

When we had Make One, the thing I loved the best was following a student’s progress through a project over the course of multiple sessions. My ongoing Sunday afternoon class was an amazing time for that, and I miss teaching that way. When I’m in Toronto, life is too hectic to teach on an ongoing basis, even at my favorite local shops.

So, it’s a huge treat for me to be able to teach at Wool and Company in Geneva, IL while I’m staying here in St. Charles.

Starting this Saturday – oooh, that’s tomorrow! – I’ll be teaching an 8 session Watershed class. Yup. 8 sessions. We’ll be knitting the project start to finish, with any customizations your hearts desire. And we’ll have plenty of time to cover all of those techie topics I love; yarn choice, fit, sizing, gauge, measurements… nifty, eh?

I’ve heard the class already has 5 lovely students, but there’s still some space, so if you’re in the area, do sign up! The cost is just $65 and you’ll have to put up with me for 16 fun hours of instruction. By the time you’re done, maybe the weather will be perfect for Watershed-wearing?

Sign Up Now >

I’m also teaching a shawl design course and photography – both in March. You can see all the classes here.

When I knew I’d be living here in St. Charles for the 5 weeks or so of mom’s stem cell transplant, I knew I’d have to try hard to take care of myself, and what I need to be able to take care of her. Being able to teach was the first thing I thought of; something to do for myself, that I love, and that gets me some good quality Amy time and keeps me interacting with other people!

Mom had her actual transplant yesterday and things have gone smoothly. She’s more exhausted than she’s ever been, and is starting to look like she’s sick. She’s been so amazing through all of the chemo and all of these assaults on her body that it’s tough for her to understand why she’s so weak now, and so fatigued. Funny, because everyone around her knows that she’s done so much better than most.

I’ve got a little email list of her friends and family that I’m using to send daily updates. I’ve thought about posting them on the blog as well. Is that something you’d want to be kept in the loop on?

Thanks for your continued thoughts and prayers, and I hope to see you all in class tomorrow!