Thursday, July 28, 2011

Frosting for the Cause



For those of you who know me, you know that my mom was not “only” my mom; she was my mom, my best friend, my sparring partner, my cheerleader, my guiding light, and often times my “attitude adjuster”. She is now my angel, my butterfly, and is STILL my attitude adjuster.

It seems surreal to me that 12 years and seven weeks ago (give or take a day or two) we were sitting in a neurosurgeon’s office looking at CT films (before the days of “digital imaging”) and staring us in the face, just the two of us, was a brain tumor - a bright, white, blinding spot of nothingness at the top left of her brain that was about to become all consuming. I know she stopped hearing anything after “brain tumor”; I don’t think I could hear anything after “surgery immediately!” Thankfully, I had a background with biology and medical office administration so I may have been able to hold out a bit longer than she. I am not sure how she made the drive home alone to tell my father; had I had my wits about me, I would have never let her make that drive alone. As it was, I am not even sure how I managed to make the drive home to tell my boyfriend that my mom had a brain tumor, they are doing surgery, and we don’t know anything else.

What I do know is that it was Tuesday, June 1, 1999 and that Sunday, June 6, 1999 she was admitted to the hospital to have that bright, white, blinding spot removed from her brain. Not long after, the pathology reports came back - “Cancer” had walked in our door and was here prepared for a fight.

We were, as a family, so blessed in so many ways. We had a fantastic neurosurgeon (Thank you Dr. Robert Narotzky) that had just relocated to our small city of Casper, WY. We had most of our family there with us. She had more friends who loved her than I think we will ever know; and a terrific system of love and never ending support. Most of all, we still had Mom and she had enough hope, strength, and determination to fight this cancer for all of us. And determined to fight and win she was!

Many rounds of chemo and radiation were set to come our way; and with them surgeries, hospital stays, Emergency Room visits, late night visits to ICU, trips to other states for consultaions, countless doctors and specialists and sub-specialists, and many, many lessons.

My family learned words like metastasis, metastatic, tumor markers, ca125, glioblastoma, tumor review board, and my sister’s personal favorite – emesis. We also learned that even though she “SAYS” she wants egg salad for lunch she secretly despises egg salad and would thank you very kindly to stop playing in her Jell-O!! I learned that even I had a breaking point when watching her put sugar in her potato soup that she thought was oatmeal. I learned how to translate “Dr Speak” for my dad so that he could have some clue as to what was going on. We learned that certain pain meds will leave one to believe that my sister’s dog was able to visit from outside her 3rd floor hospital window and that the hospital staff throws dances and parties in the basement when everyone else goes home – who would have ever guessed?

We learned that calling in “sick” to work was not an option. To this day, I have to be almost unable to crawl out of bed before I will call in “sick” to work. She worked as hard and as much as she could up to the last time she went into the hospital and was determined that as soon as they would let her out of hospice she “WAS” going back to work.

We learned what steroids do to a body. We watched her long, thick, naturally curly hair fall out. I learned that I could, in fact, shave the last locks of her hair off for her and manage to not break down in tears until she walked out my front door with her beautiful bald head held high.

We also learned the value of laughter and pictures and shopping for cookies at Wal-Mart that no one was going to eat but that she insisted my dad was going to take to work with him. My sister learned how to drive a wheelchair - well sorta - down a hill and across a parking lot. She did not, however, learn how to not get Mom stuck in the corner of the Dr Office in it. We learned the beauty of looking at “witches hats” (Russian Sage plants to you mere mortals) from the comfort of her bed at the hospice home.

We also learned that it was OK to take a break from talking, reading about, and thinking about cancer; because, though she was fighting it day in and day out 24/7, even she needed to take a break and walk away once in awhile and just not be “sick”. We learned that together we could plan and execute a beautiful wedding for my little sister and tell cancer that it wasn’t invited to this particular festivity, thank you very much!

We lost my mom to what was finally determined to be fallopian cancer on July 31, 2001. She managed to reach all of the goals that she had set for herself that year - she celebrated her 30th Wedding Anniversary with my dad; she turned 50; and she watched as my beautiful sister walked down the isle in her wedding gown and she got to play Mother of the Bride (God knows she would still be here if she had waited for me to get married, but that is another story).

While we may not have her here in the physical world with us today, we have her in spirit, in laughter, in our dreams, and in the many thousands of lessons that she was able to teach us in her journey though life.

One of the great memories that my sister and I have of our mother is baking cinnamon rolls growing up. As soon as I learned about "Frosting for the Cause", I knew that I had to be a part of it. As soon as I saw the next available date was for the day before the 10 year passing mark of my mom, I knew that I had her blessing to tell her story; and I knew that as I stepped into my kitchen alone to make her cinnamon rolls in her memory, that I wasn’t going to make it through the night without shedding a few tears. I can’t wait to take these little gems to the Central Wyoming Hospice House in her memory so that I can share just a small piece of her with them.

Betty Crocker Cinnamon Rolls – with a few modifications




Rolls
3 1/2 to 4 cups Gold Medal® all-purpose flour
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon salt
2 packages regular or fast-acting dry yeast (4 1/2 teaspoons)
1 cup milk - Whole milk is best
1/4 cup butter (1/2 stick), room temperature
1 large egg – at room temperature
Cooking spray to grease bowl and pan

Filling
1/2 cup light brown sugar
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/4 cup butter (1/2 stick), melted
1/2 cup raisins, if desired
1/4 cup finely chopped nuts, if desired
Glaze
1 cup powdered sugar
1 tablespoon butter, room temperature
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1 - 2 tablespoons milk

Cream Cheese Frosting (optional)
4 Ounces cream cheese, softened
¼ Cup butter, softened
1 ½ Cups powdered sugar
½ Teaspoons milk – whole milk is best
½ Teaspoon vanilla


In a large bowl, stir 2 cups of the flour, 1/3 cup granulated sugar, the salt and yeast with a wooden spoon until well mixed. In a 1-quart saucepan, heat the milk over medium heat until very warm and an instant-read thermometer reads 120°F to 130°F. Add the warm milk, 1/4 cup butter and egg to the flour mixture. Beat with an electric mixer or in a stand mixer with a dough hook on low speed 1 minute, stopping frequently to scrape batter from side and bottom of bowl with a rubber spatula, until flour mixture is moistened. Beat on medium speed 1 minute, stopping frequently to scrape bowl. With a wooden spoon, stir in enough of the remaining flour, about 1/2 cup at a time, until dough is soft, leaves side of bowl and is easy to handle (dough may be slightly sticky).



Sprinkle flour lightly on a countertop, pastry mat, or large cutting board. Place dough on floured surface. Knead by folding dough toward you, then with the heels of your hands, pushing dough away from you with a short rocking motion. Move dough a quarter turn and repeat. Continue kneading about 5 minutes, sprinkling surface with more flour if dough starts to stick, until dough is smooth and springy. Spray a large bowl with the cooking spray. Place dough in bowl, turning dough to grease all sides. Cover bowl loosely with plastic wrap; let rise in a warm place about 1 hour 30 minutes or until dough has doubled in size. Dough is ready if an indentation remains when you press your fingertips about 1/2 inch into the dough.




In a small bowl, mix ½ cup brown sugar and the cinnamon; set aside. Spray the bottom and sides of a 13x9-inch pan with the cooking spray. Sprinkle flour lightly on a countertop or large cutting board. Gently push your fist into the dough to deflate it. Pull the dough away from the side of the bowl, and place it on the floured surface.


Using your hands or a rolling pin, flatten dough into a 15x10-inch rectangle. Spread 1/4 cup butter over dough to within 1/2 inch of edges. Sprinkle with sugar-cinnamon mixture, raisins and nuts. Beginning at a 15-inch side, roll dough up tightly. Pinch edge of dough into the roll to seal edge. Stretch and shape roll until even and is 15 inches long. Using a sharp serrated knife, length of string, or length of dental floss, cut roll into 15 (1-inch) slices. Place slices slightly apart in the pan. Cover pan loosely with plastic wrap; let rise in a warm place about 30 minutes or until dough has doubled in size. Remove plastic wrap.







Move the oven rack to the middle position of the oven. Heat the oven to 350°F. Bake 30 to 35 minutes or until golden brown. Immediately remove rolls from pan; place right side up on a cooling rack. Cool 5 minutes.



In a small bowl, stir glaze ingredients until smooth, adding enough milk so glaze is thin enough to drizzle. Over the warm rolls, drizzle glaze from the tip of a tableware teaspoon, moving the spoon back and forth to make thin lines of glaze.

If you prefer Cream Cheese Frosting –
In a mixing bowl, beat frosting ingredients until well mixed.

Serve warm.