You'd Better Not Die or I'll Kill You

by Jane Heller

  Martin’s book instructs us to start out by meditating for a minute—literally.

  “First you do it with a timer,” he said. “Just bring your mind to meet your breath. You don’t worry about counting your breath or trying to slow it down or anything like that. Keep it simple. Drop your mind into your breathing and let your thoughts go.”

  What if we can’t let our thoughts go and instead get distracted by them? Martin suggests we say something nonjudgmental about a random thought, like “Hmm,” and just refocus on our breathing.

  The next step is to count our breaths during that timed minute—just calculate how many breaths we take in to give us an average. Then we leave the timer behind and move on to what Martin calls “the portable minute.”

  “You just count your breaths up to your average breath count and you’ve done about a minute of meditation,” he said. “Now you can do it when you’re in bed with somebody sleeping, at the theater, in a meeting when you’re bored, anywhere.”

  I followed his advice and started with a timer (I used the egg timer from my kitchen). It was fun! After getting pretty good at stage one, I began counting my breaths during that minute and came up with my average, which was twenty-five. I discarded the timer and did the one-minute meditation using my twenty-five breaths. I did it while I waited outside Michael’s doctor’s office. I did it in a movie theater during the endless string of previews. I did it at my computer when my browser was taking forever to load a page. It’s an incredibly handy way to take a time-out from stress.

  “What I found is that you can do quite a bit in a minute,” said Martin. “And it means that you’re going to approach the next minute less stressed, less anxious, more present.”

  I encourage everybody to visit Martin Boroson’s website, www.onemomentmeditation.com, to learn more about his book. He has a video posted that explains the concept, and it’s well worth watching.

  Health coach Nancy Kalish has her own tip for learning how to meditate: the Mayo Clinic’s Meditation app, available on iTunes.

  “I highly recommend it,” she said. “They spent about seven years researching how to teach people to do meditation in a very simple way. It’s basically coordinating your breath with these very pleasant chiming tones. You can download it onto an iPod, a smart phone, wherever you want. It’s super, super soothing.”

  I bought the app. It comes with a brief introduction, some “healing thoughts,” and both a fifteen-minute meditation and a five-minute version. While I like the ease of being able to access a meditation on my iPhone and following along with the prompts to breathe and relax, I found the sound of the chimes somewhat jarring, even at low volume. I also felt as if I were cheating. Did I really need an illustration of a circle to tell me when to breathe? Still, the app is extremely popular and it may be helpful to more technologically minded caregivers than I.

  My meditation journey ultimately took me to Oprah, the queen of all things uplifting, and to meditation teachers Ed and Deb Shapiro, who blog on Oprah.com. They’re the authors of the book Be the Change: How Meditation Can Transform You and the World. They’ve also produced CDs that are available via their website (www.edanddebshapiro.com). The meditations that are narrated by Deb are especially relaxing. I loved Ed’s meditations too, but Deb has a British accent and a voice as soothing as a cup of tea. I figured I should ask them for their take on the m word.

  Jane: I know caregivers should meditate, but we already have enough on our plates.

  Deb: Yes, but when the relaxation response kicks in, we’re able to deal with conflicting situations without fear, anxiety, and hopelessness. That’s one benefit. The other side of it is that when we’re stressed it’s very easy to lose touch with compassion. We get irritated more quickly. And when we’re doing care work, that’s what we’ve got to stay in touch with. In a relaxed state, we’re connecting with a deeper sense of ourselves—a deeper innate altruism and kindness.

  Ed: When the mind is still, you’re able to see what’s going on, know what’s needed, be able to deal with people in a much more present, spontaneous way.

  Jane: Uh-oh. You’re talking about stilling the mind. My mind does not still.

  Deb: I think the thing here is to not talk about stilling the mind. It’s a bit like trying to catch the wind. So let’s just talk about quieting the mind down.

  Jane: Thank you.

  Deb: The easiest and most common way of doing that is to pay attention to your breath, which gives the mind something to do.

  Jane: Are you guys into counting the breaths? Every teacher seems to have a different rule about this.

  Deb: Whatever works for people. You can repeat, “breathing in, breathing out, breathing in, breathing out.” Or you can actually count at the end of each exhale. “Breathe in, breathe out, one.” “Breathe in, breathe out, two.” And just count up to ten and start at one again. If you get distracted, bring yourself back and start at one again.

  Ed: And the breathing that we’re talking about is through the nostrils. The mouth is for eating and talking. The nose is for breathing.

  Jane: How long should people meditate? Five minutes? Fifteen? Thirty?

  Deb: Again, they need to find out what works for them. I would suggest starting with five minutes. Then if you can do five, try ten. If you can do ten, try fifteen. But fit it in when you have a little space—even if it is only five minutes. I know people who do it in the bathroom because it’s the only place they can be alone. And if you’ve got kids running around, do it in the evening after they’ve gone to sleep.

  Jane: Convincing caregivers to meditate isn’t easy, though. We don’t think in terms of our own well-being.

  Ed: I was teaching one woman who said, “I can’t be at peace until my daughter is at peace.” I said, “Well, then you’re never going to be at peace.” Until you’re at peace, can you really be helping others?

  Jane: Point taken. But can meditation help caregivers even in times of crisis?

  Deb: Absolutely. We think about meditation as this big thing that we have to do, but it’s just about being quiet and being in touch with ourselves. It’s not that the situation changes when we meditate; it’s how we respond to it that changes. We don’t lose our tempers so often. We don’t get irritated so often. Our approach to life is different.

  Jane: Let’s say I’m visiting my husband at the hospital. Can I meditate right there in his room?

  Deb: Absolutely. Sit in a chair. Make sure your back is reasonably straight, not slumped over. Then close your eyes and just watch your breathing. Even if your breathing is shallow and fast in your upper chest when you start off, it will naturally go deeper the more you quiet down your thinking. You don’t want to force it. It’s about watching the breath, not doing the breathing.

  Ed: People shouldn’t think they’re failing and give up. You can’t expect to sit down and meditate perfectly right away. It takes time. But it’s worth it. We externalize so much and it’s frying us. Every human being should be meditating just like they wash their face and brush their teeth.

  Jane: Part of our daily routine, you mean.

  Deb: Right. Let it be a companion to you.

  CHAPTER 21

  Who Has Time to Cook a Healthy Meal? We Do.

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  “A meal should be something you look forward to, especially if you’re called upon to give care. That time when you can actually sit down by yourself and eat something really nice and healthy is important.”

  —MARTHA ROSE SHULMAN, bestselling cookbook author and NYTimes.com Recipes for Health columnist

  I’m not a foodie. I don’t share the public’s fascination with chicory. I don’t sit and rhapsodize about truffles. I can’t tell the difference between a foam, an emulsion, or an infusion. And please don’t get me started on organ meats, because sweetbreads is simply a charming name for brains.

  Still, I’m a food snob in the sense that I get really testy if I’m stuck having to eat a bad meal. We have a friend who is w
onderful in every way except that she can’t cook and does it anyway. Whenever she invites us over, I always ask, “What can we bring?” and mean it desperately. Her chicken breasts are the consistency of a TV remote; her veggies are straight out of the can, complete with the watery runoff; and her idea of an interesting side dish is white rice that’s so starchy it gloms together and has to be served with an ice cream scooper.

  But all my fastidiousness when it comes to food vanishes when Michael is having a medical crisis and I’m in caregiver mode.

  When he was in the hospital last year, I’d come home at night and be so ravenous I could have eaten all my furniture—in five minutes. Who cared what I was shoveling into my mouth or how fast? Not me. I just wanted to eat and get it over with so I could return phone calls and e-mails, pay the bills, maybe do a load of laundry, get some writing done.

  My usual routine was to stop at our neighborhood take-out place, swing past the counters, grab whatever was left, and drive home. Sometimes, I’d buy their horrible meat loaf. Sometimes, I’d buy their horrible chicken enchilada. Sometimes, I’d buy a tub of their horrible turkey chili, which was so spicy it forced me to have a Mylanta chaser.

  The second I was in the house I’d pour myself a glass of wine, turn on CNN, and inhale the food—sometimes without even bothering to pull up a chair. I was usually finished with “dinner” before the commercial break.

  Why was I so hungry and so promiscuous, foodwise? I’m not sure it was hunger that compelled me to eat like a vacuum cleaner. Part of it was the “What difference does it make” mentality that can come with being around sick people; there’s this defeatist sense that we’re all going to get sick anyway, so why bother to eat well. Plus, I was lonely. I’d walk into the empty house and start talking to Michael’s favorite chair—the one whose cushions I’m always nagging him to fluff after he gets up. Without him at home, food was a companion.

  On the other hand, I was hungry by the time I staggered in the door at night. I tried to eat lunch in the hospital cafeteria, but shouldn’t a medical facility serve hot menu items that don’t make you feel like having a cardiologist on standby? Buttermilk Fried Chicken swimming in a stainless-steel vat of grease doesn’t sound heart-healthy to me. Yes, they had a salad bar too, and I should have availed myself of it, but the cauliflower florets had brown spots on them and the cherry tomatoes were as hard as golf balls, and who really likes alfalfa sprouts anyway? And then there was the soup that sat in the pot for hours; I’d ladle some into a Styrofoam cup and have to skim the fat off the top.

  In many cases, stressed-out caregivers either overeat or don’t eat at all, and if they do eat it’s usually junk. My excuse for not cooking something good for myself when I got home was the old “I don’t have the time.” But would I have had the time if I’d had more in the refrigerator than a quart of milk, a jar of Dijon mustard, and a box of Arm & Hammer baking soda?

  “When my son was in the hospital last year for pneumonia,” said Martha Rose Shulman, the bestselling cookbook author who writes the Recipes for Health column on the New York Times’ website, “I didn’t get home until ten o’clock at night. I was starving. I took a piece of bread, toasted it, and then I poached an egg and made a panini. I had some old mushrooms around and piled them on top. It so hit the spot—just delicious. And it only took me ten minutes to cook. As long as you’ve got the stuff in your house, you can make a good meal in no time.”

  The trick, of course, is to have the stuff in your house. And by “stuff,” Martha means a decent pantry.

  “Start with a good loaf of bread, some eggs, and a can of tuna fish,” she suggested. “But most of all, caregivers have to think in terms of devoting time once a week so that they have things done ahead. And that doesn’t even mean whole dishes. It means going to the market and buying a bunch of greens. Come home, clean the greens, blanch them, squeeze the water out of them, and put them in the refrigerator in a covered bowl, not a plastic bag, so they’ll last longer. Like with beets. Go to the market and buy some. Roast the beets and they’re done. Blanch the greens and they’re done. Then you can make a frittata or an omelet in a minute.”

  “And you can always buy lettuce you don’t have to wash,” she went on. “So make a salad and then beef it up with a boiled egg or some nuts or cheese and throw a can of tuna fish on it and it’ll be a really composed dish. That’s one of my favorite things to do when I’m short on time. Soups are another good idea. They can be made ahead and kept in the freezer in small containers and reheated in the microwave.”

  Martha convinced me not only that I didn’t have to resort to nasty take-out food during periods of caregiving, but also that sitting down and eating a healthy, leisurely meal by myself could be a source of pleasure.

  She believes that eating well means eating nutritiously, as her column on NYTimes.com attests. But what’s wrong with sitting down with a bucket of mashed potatoes instead of steamed greens? Is nutrition really that important to our ability to get through the day or is it just the latest food fad? Do we really have to eat kale?

  I consulted an expert on the subject. Marci Anderson is a Cambridge, Massachusetts-based nutritionist and registered dietician who helps people make nourishing food choices.

  Jane: So what are the benefits of eating nutritiously?

  Marci: Sometimes people forget that the nutrition that we put into our bodies is the fuel that makes us go. When we eat a diet that’s stripped of rich sources of vitamins and minerals and protein, we might be able to kind of function; our bellies are full and we’re getting some “energy” from calories, but our bodies aren’t able to function as effectively as they could if they were getting great sources.

  Jane: Many caregivers spend time in hospitals, which are giant germ factories. Can nutritious foods bolster the immune system?

  Marci: Absolutely, if the foods are high in antioxidants. Like fruits and vegetables with a big variety of color, particularly green, orange, red—carrots, sweet potatoes, berries, spinach, and kale.

  Jane: Kale. Ugh. I’d rather eat ice cream.

  Marci: The reality is that people tend to eat comfort foods when they’re stressed, whether it’s ice cream or cookies, and those things do, in the moment, kind of alleviate stress. But in the long run you’re depleted, and you end up with ups and downs and peaks and valleys.

  Jane: What about eating in hospital cafeterias? Is there any way to get a decent meal there?

  Marci: If there is a salad bar, try to complement your meal by getting some fruits and veggies, but watch the condiments. If you’re building a salad ask yourself, “How many fat sources do I have? Am I loading on avocado and salad dressing and cheese?” Stick with one or two. In general, be mindful of portions and steer away from things with really heavy sauces. I always suggest what I call the “plate method.” Half your plate should be some sort of fruit or vegetable, one-quarter should be grain, and one-quarter should be protein. And an alternative to the cafeteria is to bring staples with you. An apple is very portable. So are oatmeal and trail mix.

  Jane: When I’m visiting Michael at the hospital, I get really tired around three o’clock in the afternoon—just a total energy dive. Any suggestions for healthy pick-me-ups that don’t need to be refrigerated?

  Marci: I’m not a huge fan of granola bars because they’re highly processed, have a lot of sugar, and don’t keep us full very long. What I recommend to clients is something called Lärabars. Their ingredient list is a combination of only four or five things—dried fruits, nuts, some sort of spice like cinnamon, and lemon juice. And Trader Joe’s has some great portable snacks like peanut butter-filled pretzels. Throw ten of those in a plastic bag and keep them with you.

  Jane: For those of us who have trouble sleeping, what would be a good snack to have before bed?

  Marci: Research shows that if you were to have a couple of cups of popcorn—a great whole grain and very low in calories—or a piece of whole wheat toast an hour or two before you go to bed, you’d g
et a nice rise in serotonin, which may help you sleep more soundly.

  Jane: What about alcohol?

  Marci: Drinking alcohol close to bedtime decreases the amount of time we spend in REM sleep, so we’re more likely to wake up and less likely to sleep soundly.

  Jane: And avoid caffeine. Even I know that.

  Marci: Yes. If you’re not sleeping well, you start to rely on caffeine during the day and it can really interfere with sleep patterns. If you’re going to drink that latte from Starbucks, do it early.

  Jane: Does the same apply to chocolate? I can’t tell these days whether it’s supposed to be good for us or not.

  Marci: Dark chocolate has antioxidants in it. You just have to watch the portion of it. An ounce of dark chocolate will give you the benefit without the problems of too much saturated fat.

  Jane: And it tastes way better than kale.

  After talking to Marci, I decided to dip into Martha Rose Shulman’s popular cookbook, The Very Best of Recipes for Health, and find a few nutritious offerings for myself and other stressed-out caregivers on the go. I’ve since made all four recipes. They’re insanely easy to prepare and they taste great—a win/win. We can do this, people.

  BANANA-BERRY SMOOTHIE

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  Martha writes: “This is a nutritious smoothie that you can make year-round with frozen fruit. Blueberries and strawberries are packed with anthocynanins, the antioxidant compounds that give them their blue and red colors, and they’re a very good source of vitamin C, manganese, and fiber, both soluble and insoluble. Add the protein and calcium in the milk, and you’ve got a meal. Make sure your banana is ripe, and if possible, freeze it beforehand.”

  Makes one 16-ounce or two 8-ounce servings