{"id":47583,"date":"2025-09-12T01:29:14","date_gmt":"2025-09-12T08:29:14","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/?p=47583"},"modified":"2025-09-11T08:57:49","modified_gmt":"2025-09-11T15:57:49","slug":"dont-be-alarmed-but","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/2025\/09\/12\/dont-be-alarmed-but\/","title":{"rendered":"Don\u2019t be alarmed, but \u2026"},"content":{"rendered":"

From the \u201cTribe of Reuben\u201d: a culinary heart-attack-on-a-plate, never mind the trayf\u00a0 <\/span>factor. (<\/i>photo by Alan C. \/ flickr.com)<\/i><\/p>\n

<\/i>On the last morning of our five-day trip to Victoria this summer, my husband Harvey woke me at 6:30 with the ominous words: \u201cI don\u2019t want to alarm you, but I\u2019m having chest pain and I\u2019m really clammy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Now, this is a man who has gone a few rounds with cardiac opponents like stents, a pacemaker\/defibrillator, cardiac ablation and atrial fibrillation. He is no stranger to people poking around in his arteries and veins. And I am no stranger to health anxiety.<\/p>\n

So, I leapt into action and tried to get an outside line through our hotel phone. Impossible. Harvey, cool as a cucumber (well actually, sweaty as a hairy guy in a shvitz), says, \u201cMaybe just use your cellphone and call 911.\u201d Within five minutes an ambulance and a fire truck arrived at our hotel room, and three paramedics started assessing him. Obviously, we all suspected a heart attack, G-d forbid, but they had to check everything anyway. Two puffs of nitroglycerine later and the pain subsided.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Off we went to Royal Jubilee Hospital. Which sounds like a place of celebration and festivities \u2013 jubilee! It was not. Ten hours and countless doctors, residents, nurses and nurse practitioners later, they announced that it was not a heart attack, but \u201csome sort of heart-related issue.\u201d They suggested we stay in Victoria an extra day, gently informing us that the chances of having another such \u201cevent\u201d was most likely within the next 48 hours.<\/p>\n

Long story short, we stayed in Victoria for two more nights, then came home. That was a Wednesday. On Friday, at around 10:30 p.m., Harvey woke me up again to tell me: \u201cI don\u2019t want to alarm you, but I\u2019m having chest pain again and my jaw feels tight.\u201d<\/p>\n

Like an anxiety-fueled robot, I dialed 911 and off we went to Vancouver General Hospital to spend a thoroughly horrendous two nights in the emergency department. Thanks to a nurse who advocated for us and a cardiologist who finally saw us after 19 hours of waiting, Harvey was promised an angiogram \u201cwithin the next three days.\u201d Seriously? I caught sight of incredulity in the rearview mirror.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m convinced that nonstop praying is what got Harvey an angiogram on the Sunday morning. And what did it show? He had a blockage in the smaller of the two \u201cwidow-makers\u201d \u2013 a term cardiologists use to refer to the heart\u2019s biggest artery, and the one that commonly causes fatal heart\u00a0<\/span>attacks. This is a term that no wife wants to hear. Ever. But, thank G-d, they caught it in time and put a cardiac stent in. To date, it\u2019s still a mystery as to why a fairly recent cardiogram didn\u2019t catch this blockage. Needless to say, this wife will be armed with an extensive list of questions for Harvey\u2019s cardiologist. For the record, I\u2019m not comforted when doctors opine that \u201csometimes we just don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n

When I asked Harvey how I could possibly tie in his cardiac episodes with my Balabusta column, without missing a beat, he said: \u201cTribe of Reuben.\u201d I immediately understood the reference to the two Reuben sandwiches he\u2019d consumed that week. I have become very adept at extrapolating the gems that spew forth from my husband\u2019s witty piehole. For those of you not familiar with this culinary heart-attack-on-a-plate, a Reuben consists of corned beef, Swiss cheese and sauerkraut slathered with Russian or Thousand Island dressing, grilled between slices of rye bread. My arteries clog just contemplating this. Never mind the trayf<\/i> (non-kosher) factor.<\/p>\n

Suffice it to say that, while I cannot be my husband\u2019s keeper, I can be the gatekeeper for what we eat at home. And there sure as heck aren\u2019t going to be any Reuben sandwiches darkening our doorway. They might try knocking, but nobody\u2019s going to answer.<\/p>\n

In the service of taking on a heart-healthy diet, Harvey will be eating nothing but salads, fruit and vegetables from now on \u2013 as if. Me, I\u2019m a dyed-in-the-wool carnivore, so meat is a staple and I refuse to banish it. Given the state of things, I anticipate cooking separate meals for Harvey and me. Imagine my delight. Although I suppose certain proteins in regulated portions would be OK for him, I will have to explain to Harvey that corned beef and salami are not proteins, but rather heart attacks waiting to happen.<\/p>\n

Alternative proteins like tofu and quinoa are out of the question for hubby, as you already know. So, my challenge will be to get creative and cleverly hide those loathed substances in appealing-looking dishes. A little quinoa thrown into a vegetable stew. Beyond Beef jumping into the understudy role for lasagna. Tofu masquerading as schnitzel. Not likely. Not ever. Harvey has the nose of a bloodhound and will sniff out these offending pseudo-proteins before you can say traitor.<\/p>\n

What\u2019s a wife to do? I could bribe his cardiologist to read Harvey the riot act. Or I could just throw my hands up in frustration and accept the fact that Harvey is a grown man with the capacity to make his own choices, good, bad and otherwise. I just hate giving in to sensible options, so I\u2019m opting for Door #1. Wish me luck.<\/p>\n

In the meantime, I\u2019ll explore the big wide world of vegetables and figure out how I can disguise spaghetti squash and golden beets to make them look like Big Macs and Reuben sandwiches. Tonight, Harvey will be eating a salad composed of avocados, blueberries, mangoes, Persian cucumbers and fresh mint, with a healthy homemade dressing. And he\u2019ll love it. The dressing is simple: lime juice. If I\u2019m feeling magnanimous, I might even slip in a small portion of real protein on the side. Depends on whether or not he snuck in a Sabich for lunch while I was out. I\u2019ll be sniffing his breath for signs of falafel and onion before dinner.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Stay tuned for my end-of-summer Greek orzo salad that will satisfy your craving for a salty, sweet side salad that doubles as a main dish. It\u2019ll usher your tastebuds from summer into fall in the blink of an eye. Next thing you know, you\u2019ll be nesting and making sheet pan chicken. Honour the seasons, season your food and eat healthy. Btay\u2019avon.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Shelley Civkin<\/b>, aka the Accidental Balabusta, is a happily retired librarian and communications officer. For 17 years, she wrote a weekly book review column for the <\/i>Richmond Review. She\u2019s currently a freelance writer and volunteer.<\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

From the \u201cTribe of Reuben\u201d: a culinary heart-attack-on-a-plate, never mind the trayf\u00a0 factor. (photo by Alan C. \/ flickr.com) On the last morning of our five-day trip to Victoria this summer, my husband Harvey woke me at 6:30 with the ominous words: \u201cI don\u2019t want to alarm you, but I\u2019m having chest pain and I\u2019m […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":47584,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[15],"tags":[8729,24339,6977],"class_list":["post-47583","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-life","tag-accidental-balabusta","tag-cardiac-care","tag-healthcare"],"blocksy_meta":{"styles_descriptor":{"styles":{"desktop":"","tablet":"","mobile":""},"google_fonts":[],"version":8}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/47583","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=47583"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/47583\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/47584"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=47583"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=47583"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=47583"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}