3 Reasons You Need Pineapples In The Age Of This Coronavirus

As we find ourselves in midst of the Coronavirus we should turn to pineapple for a helping hand. I know, I know… Ya all probably think this is trash talk but hear me out. I have three specific reasons why pineapple should be the fruit mascot for all things Covid-19. You ready?

1. Respiratory Health

Pineapple is rich in Bromelian which is an enzyme with a positive record for treating upper respiratory track infections. Several studies including “The Use of Bromelain in Pneumological Therapy” published in 1978, as well as the 1967 publication of “A Double-Blind Clinical Evaluation of Bromelains in the Treatment of Acute Sinusitis” both reported effective results in treating respiratory illnesses. For those suffering from pneumonia and bronchitis, bromelain can apparently help suppress coughs and reduce sputum which is the mucus-y stuff coughed up from the respiratory track. Bromelain is reported to decrease such secretions, helping to increase the capacity and function of the lungs! Holla! Additionally, pineapple is loaded in vitamin C and manganese which are essential for antioxidant defense. In short, that means immunity boosting nutrients, and with Coronavirus cases continuing to rise, this is the time to feed your body with nourishment that might literally help you or a loved one fight for their life.

Granted, pineapple is no substitute for medical intervention but right now we are in a time of uncertainty and medicines with a cure are still being researched. If there is one take away we can all observe right now, it’s that those with compromised immune systems and underlying health condition are facing greater risks against this virus. We don’t have all the answers as to how we as a people get sick, but we do have a lot of them. Heart disease, diabetes, and high blood pressure are illnesses threaten by the Covid-19 and all of which correlate back to diet. Now has never been a better time to take a good hard look at what we are eating and take a proactive step toward improving our health. I know this virus has us feeling as though life is out of control but this is something you can do. You can make pineapple part of your diet. It's quite possible this fruit can help and if nothing else, we can at least trust that it won’t hurt.

2. Pineapple Propagation

That’s right folks! Growing food should at least be in the back of everyone’s mind. I don’t want to be an alarmist but when you hear stories about global border closures, record plunges of the stock market, collapsing healthcare systems, and a growing viral pandemic, it’s a bit naive to assume all will turn-out rosy. Shit is going down right now and our leadership is floundering. And this is not a political statement. This is just glaringly obvious by every single Facebook or Instagram post highlighting the states of panic, depression, concern and ambivalence rampant among us. People don’t know what to do and what’s worse is management of every kind seems just as clueless.

But folks, I have some news for you. If you find yourself waiting to be lead forward by anyone in a “crisis”, the joke’s on you. There is no white knight. No hero is at the helm standing watch, waiting for the right moment to lift you from the storm. YOU are the only one that can do that, and the sooner you come to terms with this sad misfortune the better off you’ll be. Let that sink in for a bit. There is a good change you won’t get it right now but I promise you that at some point it will click and rather than some enlightened awakening, you might experience something more akin to a great thaw. It wasn’t enlightening to learning that I was single-handedly patching cracks in our system so my family,( myself included) could remain afloat. The legal system demanded my parents receive care (Read About page) which personally hamstrung me to the broken healthcare system. Naturally that then tethered me to the financial system. And then that system fettered me to the welfare system. And then that system, to the food system.. You see where I’m going with this? You might remember my old posts about needing new glasses, getting by on $50 a week (for me and my dad), or just wanting a hair cut… It was an extremely rough time made rougher by isolation. But guess what? No hero in sight except, m y s e l f…

{Insert the epic “thaw” here. }

For the first time in probably two or three years I saw the true reality of the situation. It was my shit sandwich and I had to swallow it. We all know that expression “to eat shit” but until the load is on your plate, the magnitude of the task ahead is peripheral. Well, that shit was not peripheral. That shit, was a diarrhea of a shit and it was front and center. It was the cold, and cruel reality of a dangerous uncertainty and no sooner did I choke it down, did the ice begin to melt. First, my eyes cleared and I started taking in the big picture. Then the rage formed, just as I started to shake my shoulders lose. By the time I could free my elbows, I was ready to throw punches. But the punches never came. Turns out hands are harbingers for solutions and as soon as mine were loose they were called to action. I started cranking out spoons to help supply us with more income. And I started reading the Wall Street Journal to better understand the f’ing stock market. Financial security was food security and I realized the risk of having only one pillar in play. You follow me?

The whole point of this rant is to shake you out of your ice. Do not allow yourself to become frozen in place, paralyzed by the news and your new found circumstance. Think forward. Think ahead and prepare now. Start a garden if you can. We’ve just entered Spring and the ground is ripe for new seeds. No room for a garden? Try a container version instead, or just a single plant. We literally Do. Not. Know. What. Is. Going. To. Happen! So, let’s be a little proactive. At best, growing some of our own food makes us individually more sustainable. At worst we have a sad little plant that produced nothing but root rot. Either way it’s win-win. This provides you something purposeful to do with your new home-bound life as well as a new found respect for the hard working farmers that keeps us fed!

As for the pineapple, it’s just easy to propagate. You can just get one at the store (assuming they remain available) , cut the top off, and plop it right into the soil and it will grow. It does take a while but it’s seriously easy. Mine grew (I have two) and I was far less methodical with my attempt than the link above. They also work in pots and if it doesn’t fruit, it still looks good. This might be your first step in having a Victory Garden. Why not get a jump?

3. Pineapple Recipes

This segment should be obvious. Not only are pineapples good for respiratory health and easy to grow, but you can also cook with them. Duh… You get the most nutritional density by just eating the fruit unaltered but don’t let that stop you from incorporating it however you can. You might only be able to find pineapple frozen or in a can and I realize that might influence how you choose to consume it but either way, go for it! One of my favorite ways of consumption for small children, elderly, or anyone feeling sick is via a smoothie or glass of pineapple juice. I don’t think you need a recipe to do this. As long as you have the basic ingredients to build a smoothie just go for it. My only suggestion is to think about the color wheel when mixing ingredients. It’s kinda like grade schools when you were mixing paints for art class… If you mix red fruit with leafy greens, you’ll likely get a brown smoothie. Gross! However, if you mix red fruit with yellow fruit you’ll get orange. Or yellow fruit and leafy greens will create a lighter green smoothie. The saying goes, and I believe this, “you eat with your eyes”. I don’t know about you, but the only brown smoothie I’m into is chocolate or coffee something. Stop making gross looking smoothies! Jamba Juice doesn’t do and neither should you. In addition to drinks, pineapple has a place in both sweet and savory recipes. Along with the typical pineapple upside-down cake it goes well with chicken and pork or mixed in with some rice and beans. Really, just take yourself to Pinterest if you need inspiration. This is not rocket science.

Alright, and on that note, I gotta, GOTTA, GOTTA finish this up. When I said I was going to dive into more posts about isolation I didn’t think pineapple was going to be the first rabbit hole I’d send you down. And if you are still here, I’m impressed! And please comment and let me know how you feel cause if you want me to talk some real talk about isolation, then here’s a dose… How about the fact that I posted this blog for years, A L O N E, during the hardest time in my life and rarely a peep did anyone make here to encourage me on. That’s not a guilt trip. It’s just a fact. And worth thinking a bit on what it means to “show-up” for someone when you physically can’t be near them. I can tell you from experience that it’s gonna take more than a Facebook like. Likes don’t save lives. Nor will they save the livelihoods of the millions of people that will be effected. So buckle folks. This ride has only just started.

Also, pineapple for the win! Just sayin’…;)

Senior Playlist For Coronavirus Comfort

Dear caregivers and friends,

As we are all experiencing these uncertain times I can’t help thinking about our most vulnerable population. My heart breaks at the suffering of both seniors and caregivers as you navigate the challenging recommendation of social distancing. The picture of loved ones being visited through windows; nursing homes and assisted living centers under a mandatory void of visitors… The isolation sounds awful. The alarm should have sounded for the elderly long before the threat of Covid-19 but here we are and the bell is ringing. I’ve been thinking a lot about how to help in this crisis. What can I do to help this community? I regret to say I cannot make respirators however I have made an age appropriate playlist for seniors and hopefully it can offer a slight sigh of relief.

As many of you know, my dad, Robert Look (aka #koolbob) suffered from dementia where daily he struggled with confusion facing the world around him. The only thing that soothed his soul was the sound of music and it is my hope that this collection of his favorites might also help to sooth yours or your loved ones. He passed in December of 2018 when he was 86 and that detail is relevant only for you to grasp his age. He was from a different generation. He was part of the “Silent Generation”, born between the two World Wars and part of a generation that we might lose rather quickly if we don’t slow the pace of this virus. I can only imagine how terrified they must feel as we practice this new concept of social distancing. So, if you are a caregiver for the elderly or manage a nursing home or assisted living center and finding yourself at a loss as to how to bring comfort to the seniors in your care, pause for a moment, press play, and turn the music up for our parents and grandparents whom we want to hung but can’t.

My dad in his prime.

I know caregiving is frequently a thankless job but I want to assure you that we are all beyond thankful for your service! You are the true heroes of this crisis and as the weight of the world feels entirely on your shoulders please know that we are standing behind you, ready to help.

Holding you in heart,

Ashley.

Reflections From Life After Caregiving

After almost four years of trying to figure out life alongside of caregiving, I’m suddenly thrust into life without it. Like a car careening to a screeching halt, the abruptness and impact is still revealing itself. I’m picking up the pieces… again… and no sooner had I started to make sense of the ones I was holding do I find myself holding new ones, wholly foreign and equally frustrating. Just as my caregiver life began to click, things changed and my ever quest for stability has shaped-shifted once again.

Last year, around October, I started to really feel like I was gaining a grasp on things.. The years of trial and error eventually led to some clarity around how to be a full-time caregiver. Actually, for the first time in my caregiving journey I felt like I was more than just a caregiver. I had returned to having my own identity with a vision of myself as a maker. I started to identify as an artist and a baker. A maker of things that reflected my journey with time, because more than anything, I had learned how to stand still. I was embracing what I’ve come to think of as the “slow-life” movement.

The monotony of caregiving and its day-in, day-out inertia was a vacuum. It consumed my time and energy and gave me very little in return. The overwhelming feeling of sacrificing my desires for the care of my parents left me bitter, angry that these were my life’s cards. I spent years with that anger, mostly unresolved, because emotionally I was conflicted by love. Love for my parents, love for my partner, and love for the person I was becoming prior to this whole mess starting. Caregiving pit all these loves against each other, forcing me to prioritize them, as if one might have somehow held more importance over the others. I was paralyzed in making pivotal life choices and in that paralysis my frustration grew into rage. My anger seethed and with no place to channel how I was feeling I recoiled into my mind, mentally scheming a way out of this mess. I became a cruncher, a term I’ve identified for how my mind became calculatory. Crunching was the puzzle work of solving my problems and I crunched constantly. I crunched numbers, schedules, and systems, addicted to finding solutions. I crunched in my sleep merely awaiting daylight, so I could just get back to the drawing board to resolve my mess. And I couldn’t settle for just surviving the time. I wanted to enjoy my time and rid myself of the toxicity that was consuming my emotional and mental health.

Long story short, around October of 2018 I started to formulate a plan. All the crunching had paid-off and for the first time in my caregiving journey I had ideas for how I was going to move forward in my own life with happiness. I was ready for caregiving to be a piece of my life, rather than my whole life and I was ready to do that by injecting my interests into the inertia of the job. 2019 Couldn’t come soon enough! I was so ready for a fresh start, so excited to work on this website because this platform was going to encapsulate my new beginning. If caregiving meant a life of isolation then my website would become my vehicle for connection. I realized that if I couldn’t go out and greet the world in the way I craved, maybe I could convince a piece of the online one to come to me. I was ready to do that through food and craft, creating opportunities for interactions. I would post recipes (which are a dime a dozen) but more so I would create reasons for individuals to “visit” me. I prematurely launched the Full Moon Baking Club and Winter Squash Bingo because I was excited. I anticipated them being the cornerstones of 2019 but thrust them into the world early because I was tired of waiting. I had waited nearly four years at this point to feel a sense of myself in my days and finally a sliver of that girl was showing. I didn’t need a specific date or a launch party to validate my readiness. I was ready to hatch, armed with all things related to food, carving, and caregiving that might convince someone to interact with my world.

But then came the abrupt shift, hardly a month into my new found plan. My dad fell on December 14th. I remember it was a Friday. He was gone five days later… His passing was met by the cusp of winter, the government shutdown, and the end-of-year holidays that consume everything that time of year. It was not the most wonderful time of year. Quite the opposite really. And yet 2019 rolled-in, once highly anticipated and now, suddenly an afterthought. There was no fresh start. Instead, 2019 greeted me with a sour taste in my mouth. The bitterness I chocked down from my years before had been replaced by something acrid. The final decree, hamstringing my heart, again to this role of caregiver and stealing my identity once more…

It’s not fair. That’s really all I have to say for myself. It’s just not fair. And never-the-less, it just is what it is… I know people hate that expression but I’m not sure how else make sense of the enormity of grief that encompasses the last four years other than to surrendering to time. I lost my mom, my dad, and my dog. I lost my job, my apartment, and my community… I don’t think the vacuum of caregiving is well understood, which in and of itself is a tragedy. The loss of lives is compounded by the loss of livelihood. Grief alone is heavy but without a social and economical construct to pad the edges, it can push your life to the fringe. The vacuum swallows everything, eroding just about every facet of connection and commonality into something even more incongruous. I am the last person you want at your dinner party. I’m am every bit the definition of your Debbi Downer… Everyone died, I’m unemployed, and too much alcohol will probably bring me to tears... But where I lack in dinner parties, I thrive in pity parties! Other people’s problems serve as respite from my own and I find myself happy to listen to the struggles of others. Not because misery loves company but because pain deserves a voice and after four years of sitting on the sidelines I have found that emotional trauma is dangerous when left unchecked. Luckily my outlets were baking and carving and they will continue to be healthy escapes from a world riddled with malfeasance.

I keep waiting for my course correction. Caregiving has “ended” and I find myself anxious to move on. But Joseph Campbell’s theme of the hero’s journey whispers softly to me that this is hardly an ending. It’s entry into the “abyss”. According to his narrative, I’m only halfway through my caregiving journey because it took four years to get here and it might take four more to recover. The mere thought of this exhausts me but it also gives me comfort. Time has been my one trusted companion thus far so we kinda know the drill. As I mentioned before, I have learned the lessons of staying still. As the clock ticks on with a strange new nothingness, I have mastered the art of waiting cause my life feels perpetually on hold. Something will come… Some job will rescue me from my newly inherited mortgage and other financial burdens but it appears that white knights liberate without time restraints so all I can do is wait. And carve… and bake… and be. Cause life after caregiving isn’t an ending. It’s a blind spot and my only choice is to turn to the sun.