Charming Friends,

Here I am on the sofa again, with my trusty laptop, my Darling Doggy beside me, my faithful quilt, my walking-stick to hand and the never-ending cup of tea on the table. I have been learning a lot about being an invalid!

(This is a long blog, as I really have learned a great deal - be warned ...)

Funny. In this world we tend to worship youth, health and fitness. It seems that very few of us are prepared for the very normal human experience of ... well, of the opposite. Our grandparents and great-grandparents were taught from an early age what to expect from ill-health, and how to deal with it in the home. Unsurprising, alas, in a time when most people experienced depression, war or epidemics, and hospital-based care was less accessible. People became ill or injured, and without the benefit of mechanised hospital beds, saline drips and suchlike, they did a lot of their recovery at home, in the sick room.

Remember sick rooms? I have vague memories of being an ill little child and my parents tenderly converting a bedroom into a specialised sick room. Dad would re-arrange furniture to allow the invalid easy access to vital things like drinking water and Little Golden Books, and to encourage a good airflow through the room. Mum would lay in a store of necessities such as clean towels, buckets, flannels, dressings and spare blankets. The room would be flooded with natural light or dimmed gently as the illness required. There would be hot blackcurrant drinks, flat lemonade, tempting and easily digested foods that could be consumed in bed. There would be hot water bottles, stories, sponge baths, hand-holding, foot-rubs. It was all terribly comforting.

Parents still lay on these treats for their ill little children, of course. However in our grandparents' day these were necessities for the recovering adult as well. It is rare these days that we find ourselves in this enviable position. We live in smaller family units, for starters, and it is not so easy to have one person at home at all times to care for an invalid. It is far more likely that grown-up invalids find themselves at home alone, doing their best to cope while other household members are at work or at school.

Of course we have things much easier. We have access to better medicine and special services including the invaluable Community Nurses (as fine a group of individuals as ever graced our fair cities). We have emergency services, cell phones, relatively safe homes with minimal risks. We have our beloved internet, when we suffer cabin-fever, and as a source of extra information and support (and of course, we question everything we read, don't we?).

What we don't have is an ingrained culture of caring for the sick at home. In my convalescence I am very fortunate. My beloved parents live in the same city as me, and my retired mother has been by my side every day so far, passing on the convalescence skills she learned as a child and generally making my life much nicer. She has turned up with casseroles, swept my floors, assisted me to medical appointments and given me heaps of wonderful advice.

For my own amusement, and for further advice, I also turned to an important authority on domestic skills from the 19th century, via The Book of Household Management, by Mrs Isabella Beeton, published in book form in 1861. Mrs Beeton's writings make excellent reading, and quite a lot of her advice, remarkably, still holds true in spite of changed times! I particularly enjoyed reading Mrs Beeton's advice and recipes for caring for invalids. It reminds me that in Mrs Beeton's day,  I could not have spent days in a hospital bed in a 'nil by mouth' state being sustained through a drip and carefully monitored. I would have been at home for many weeks in a carefully-laid out sickroom, being fed regular small amounts of easily-digested nutritious foods to sustain me as I recovered much, much more slowly (if I should have been so lucky as to be able to afford this). Otherwise I would have been in trouble!

Nutritious invalid foods, in Mrs Beeton's day, included 'beef tea' (actually, when I was allowed to eat I was immediately given Bovril in hospital, the modern-day equivalent, and very sustaining and welcome it was too, after several days of no food at all), a gruel made of toasted bread pounded and mixed with water, milk- and cream-enriched soups and puddings, tea and coffee 'to give energy', and gently warmed toddies containing fruit juices, sherry and raw eggs. The intention of such foods was to minimise the amount of energy the patient's body had to devote to digestion, while maximising nutrients to allow the patient's body to heal. Most of the foods were very liquid, which of course kept the invalid hydrated, and could be easily swallowed from a prone position. Iron-rich foods such as meat and yeast broths were known to be particularly nutritious, even though it was not recognised back then why this should be the case. Stimulants such as caffeine and alcohol - which nowadays we might avoid - were comforting and pain-relieving for the patient, and probably also had laxative effects which may have been useful given the lack of fibre in the standard invalid meal!

My mother's invalid food is somewhat different! I am fortunate enough to be fairly unrestricted in my diet, although there are some hindrances: I have a poor appetite (and can't wait for that little problem to be over! My appetite is one of my favourite things.) I have serious digestion issues that have to be considered. I have spent several days on very limited calories and need to keep myself strong enough to promote healing. I am also limited in my mobility, and although I would love to do a lot of cooking, I simply can't manage heavy pots and pans. The Captain is already taking on the main burden of housework, as well as working full-time, and cooking is an extra problem for him since I would normally hog the kitchen. Mum is full of useful advice on dealing with these issues.

Mum is a great believer in the healing power of local, seasonal slow-cooked food, courtesy of her English post WWII childhood, when food was scarce and it was important to retain every possible precious calorie by using any food available. Slow-cooking makes tough meat tasty, renders down valuable animal fats nicely, allows the use of bits of vegetables that one might not normally consider, such as celery-tops, reduces the need to peel root vegetables (scrub them well instead, and consider locally grown untreated organic veg), is handy for using up leftover bits of things like cheese and ham rinds, and it is easy to make a large batch to refrigerate or freeze.

She has furnished me (and the grateful Captain) with one of her princely beef-and-mushroom casseroles. Long, slow cooking and a variety of high-fibre, high protein ingredients is the key to this mouthwatering, satisfying and easy-to-eat dish. As far as I know, Mum has been making this dish since the seventies, might be earlier. It is a favourite for convalescence, but easily tasty enough for a dinner party (back in the glam seventies, for dinner parties Mum used to set up a fabulous spirit-burner casserole-warmer in the centre of the table, and serve this dish straight from the table from her best flowered Cornishware, accompanied by rice, crusty bread and burgundy). Recipe below!

With a casserole in the fridge, all I have to do is cook a bit of rice or pasta (which the Captain drains for me) and put the trusty microwave to good use, heating only what we need for a single meal. It takes around 10 minutes to make ready a highly nutritious and palatable meal.

Technology comes to my aid again, as I have been able to use my faithful laptop to put in an internet grocery order. This evening a variety of groceries will arrive and be packed away by the Captain, who will also set up one of the last century's most useful inventions for invalids: the electronic crock-pot or slow-cooker. With this marvellous device, I can continue my mother's slow-cooked menu for the next couple of weeks. All I need to do is slice ingredients, brown meats and root vegetables in a small pan, and transfer them, other vegies and stock or water to the crockpot. Switch it on and leave it for a few hours and voila! Good nutritious soups and stews, cooked to perfection, ready to be packaged and frozen.

A few other observations about modern convalescence!

Try not to be alone for long periods of time. If you are lucky enough to have family or friends who are available during the day, ask them to drop in for an hour or two each day. You can also access community services, or even, if you are lucky enough to be able to afford it, pay for at-home help. Don't hesitate to do so. You will need somebody to do the following things:

• Clean your house: you should not be sweeping, vacuuming, lifting heavy objects or shopping, especially after surgery.
• Stock your larder. You can certainly use home-shopping services, but they rarely pack your groceries away for you. You must not be stretching up to shelves or hefting heavy groceries, you will need somebody to help you.
• Keep your medicines stocked. If you can't leave the house, you need to send a trusted person, with your Medicare details, to a trusted pharmacy, to collect your prescriptions. It is very important that this person knows you well enough to check and ensure your prescriptions are filled correctly.
• Assist you with medical procedures such as wound dressing or washing, if you need it.
• Be there while you do dangerous activities such as take a shower.
• Monitor your overall health. If you are sick, you may not be aware enough to recognise and deal with it. If you break into a high fever or have a fall, you cannot cope by yourself.
• Care for your pets, if you have them, including feeding and watering (especially if, like me, you can't bend down), exercising, cleaning, cuddling and playing. Your pets will be a great comfort but of course you wouldn't want them to suffer if you can't care for them fully. You can hire in pet-care services to help if necessary, or ask a friend's child or teenager to do it in exchange for cash in hand or a few driving lifts when you recover.

If you can only have company for a couple of hours a day, try and aim for those times when your circadian rhythm is lowest: around sunset. Also around 2 - 3 am, so if you are alone keep a phone by your bed in easy reach!

Even if you cannot avoid being at home alone for periods of time, ensure that you have a charged mobile phone with you at all times. If you are not too worried about safety, it is sensible to leave a door unlocked, or else make sure that a neighbor has a key and is willing to be an emergency contact for you.

When you first start recovery, and are probably less 'with it', get into the habit of jotting down what medications you take and when. Make all your jottings in the same place, that will be easy for somebody else to find if, you know, it becomes necessary.

It can be isolating being a modern grown-up alone at home attempting to recover, and it can also be dull in spite of (or maybe because of?) all of the entertainments we have on offer. When you wake in the morning, you will probably feel at your best. Plan yourself a few activities that involve a bit more energy for the mornings, such as crafts, gentle exercise, home spa activities (facepacks or hair treatments are nice) or music practice. For the afternoons, lay yourself a store of books, DVDs or gentle activities such as knitting. Early evening is a good time for a nap, especially if you have a lovely friend who can sit quietly in another room and make sure everything is fine while you do so. For the late evenings, curl up on the sofa with your coverlet and regain normality by watching telly with your pets or partner, or get on the phone with a friend.

If, like me, you are mobility-limited, get a friend to buy you a walking-stick. I keep mine to hand at all times and it is my new best friend (apart from my ukelele). It will give you a bit of extra confidence as you hobble around, and help you with balance which is very very necessary if you are unlikely to be able to pick yourself up after a fall. There are lots of lovely sticks around, but for convalescents, I would very strongly recommend a curved or hooked handle. The shepherd's crook handle of my walking stick is completely invaluable. If I drop something I can use the hook to pick it up. When I need both hands I can hook my stick around my arm or onto a piece of furniture to keep it handy. And I can use it to do such clever things as flipping open rubbish bins, opening low drawers and hooking around something very solid to help myself stand up.

Two centuries ago Miss Nightingale observed the importance of airflow in a sick room. This is as necessary now as it was then. Make sure that your house has adequate ventilation. You will be stuck in here for a long time and fresh air will be crucial to your recovery. Remember, it is easy to get warm by wrapping yourself in a cosy quilt and nursing a wheat pack or hot water bottle, so don't hesitate to open doors and windows to allow the air to circulate.

At the same time, the niceness of your surroundings will have a big impact on your emotional strength and impact on your recovery time. Try and make sure your house is kept clean and fragrant - this is even more important than usual. Sadly, it's also a lot harder to do with an invalid in the average modern home. If you can afford it, consider getting in a cleaning service just for the duration of your convalescence, or else ask a friend to help in exchange for you doing their housework when you recover.

If people have sent you flowers (my living room resembles a hot house) place them prominently where you can enjoy them! Care for cut flowers by topping up water, trimming stems and adding a spoonful of sugar to vase water. Remove flowers as they wilt and don't leave the old water to go brackish, but do enjoy the fragrance of lovely fresh flowers while they last.

Some essential oils are particularly good for invalids. Try a little lavender or rose oil around your home. Don't overdo it, but a soft subtle background fragrance will really help to relax you.

Stay hydrated! Try to always keep a glass of water or a cup of weak or herbal tea by your side. Sip when you remember. Being hydrated will help you to keep up your energy and allow your medications to work more effectively. If you are on heavy painkillers you may be more dehydrated than usual so make a real effort to keep up your liquids.

If your medication and movement permit, try and spend at least five minutes outside each day. Morning is a good time as it will be quiet outside and your energy levels will be at their best. A bit of exposure to sun will help most invalids - cover up if you have to - and it will help reduce the cabin-fever.

Finally, keep up your spirits. This is not the time to read the collected works of Edgar Allen Poe or watch An Affair To Remember. Even if you think you are cheerful enough, any emotional blow will have a lot more impact. You don't need to mainline Pollyanna (thank heavens) but try to keep your entertainment on the positive side. Laughter! It may hurt (it sure makes me ache when I chortle) but roll up a towel, press it against any wounds or injuries to support them, put on Dad's Army or the Goodies, and give in to the merriment. You will get a lot better a lot faster if you can manage at least one decent laugh every day.

Right! Time to depart and do my home-spa. But in a proper Living Darling spirit I have included a couple of recipes below - enjoy!

Yours charmingly,

Blossom Darling

Mum's Beef and Mushroom Casserole

This is a layered casserole: so easy to make, it doesn't even involve having to brown ingredients! It is perfect for a Romertopf or other clay pot but any oven-safe covered dish is fine.

• 500g stewing beef: round steak is good, cubed
• A little plain flour seasoned with salt and white pepper
• A goodly amount of fresh mushrooms, sliced
• 1 onion, sliced
• 1 carrot or other root vegetable (turnip and parsnip are both nice), diced
• 1 apple
• 1/2 cup chopped celery
• 1 green capsicum (or other seasonal veg you fancy)
• 2 bacon rashers
• 3 tomatoes (if desired)
• 1 cup beef stock
• 1/2 cup red wine
• A squeeze of fresh lemon juice

Toss the beef cubes in the seasoned flour and place in your casserole dish. Layer the rest of the ingredients on top of the meat and top with sliced tomatoes if you like them. Pour the liquid ingredients on top, cover and bake in a moderate oven for an hour and a half. Serve with rice or pasta.

Serves 4 - 6. This recipe freezes well.

Blossom's Invalid Cocktails

Obviously with my painkillers I am avoiding alcohol. This is not preventing me from enjoying my evening tipple! Later when I am off the hard medication I will start to enjoy a little sherry as an aperitif before meals, a small glass of wine with my meals, or a digestiv afterwards.

For digestion: Lime Cooler (non-alcoholic)

I adore soda water to improve digestion, and drink it like billy-o when I feel unwell. I am lucky enough to have an old-fashioned soda syphon, which I find makes a far tastier and more digestion-friendly drink than the commercial variety: sadly it can be hard to find the soda chargers but some supermarkets still sell them or you can purchase them online from reputable cocktail accessory suppliers. Homemade soda is less fizzy than the commercial kind, and gentler on the tongue and the stomach. The CO2 lends tap water a slightly sweet taste which is very palatable. I keep my syphon on the bar, full at all times: it stays fizzy for days (not that it ever lasts that long) and I simply dispense what I need when I need it. However one does need to add ice to cool it from room temperature.

• Juice of 1/2 a lime, or
• 15 ml lime juice cordial
• Soda

Simple add a squeeze of fresh lime (good for a cold) or a small splash of lime cordial (good for nausea) to a Collins glass of soda. Stir gently, add ice if needed.

For nausea: Pony's Neck (non-alcoholic)

Ginger is an anti-nausea miracle, as we know. This drink also contains bitters which can help to settle a woozy tummy, as can the lemon oil from the very important garnish. This is sweet enough to add a bit of energy so it is good for long illnesses such as those wretched 'flus.

• Angostura bitters
• Ginger ale
• Lemon peel, cut into a long spiral

Pop the lemon peel into a Collins glass. Add a dash of bitters, turn to coat the glass a little, then top with ginger ale. Sip slowly for nausea.

For a chill: Port-and-Brandy (alcoholic)

When you get that bone-crunching shivery chill, the very first thing to do is take your temperature. If it is high, you need to deal with that and this drink is not a good solution. If, however, you have just caught a touch of the chills, wrap yourself in a quilt, pop a hot water bottle onto your feet and sip one of these. It will also help with the slight nausea that can accompany a chill. You can use any kind of port for this but I prefer a tawny to a liqueur for mixing.

• 30 ml brandy
• 30 ml tawny port

Mix the two ingredients together in a small wine or sherry glass. Stir to combine and sip.

For a headcold: Hot Whiskey (alcoholic)

Do not combine this with cold and 'flu medication! But to be honest, I think that this combined with a good night's sleep is a far better solution to any headcold than that horrible pseudoephedrine-based medication anyway. The Captain and myself, a few years back, found ourselves in Ireland with nasty headcolds. The cousin with whom we were staying took one look at us, poured two of these down each of our throats and sent us to bed. The next morning we found ourselves completely cured!

• 30 ml Irish whiskey
• 30 ml clear honey
• 1/2 a fresh lemon
• Hot water
• 1 cinnamon stick

In a toddy glass, combine the honey with a good splash of hot water and mix until the honey dissolves. Top with the fresh lemon juice, then add the whiskey. Stir with a cinnamon stick and serve with the stick as a garnish.

Drink these until you feel hydrated then go to bed and sleep for at least 8 hours!

For prolonged illness: Mrs Beeton's Sherry Toddy (alcoholic)

This is straight from Mrs Beeton (updated slightly by Blossom for modern times). This is an odd sort of drink for nowadays: we don't often take drinks with egg in them these days. But getting over our unfamiliarity with the concept, it is actually fairly nutritious, comforting and easy to digest. This is a pick-me up for people who have been ill for a while and need a little something extra to keep them going.

• 1 fresh egg
• 1 tablespoon cold water
• 125 ml cold water, extra
• 1 sherry glassful of medium-sweet sherry
• 1 tablespoon simple syrup
• Grated nutmeg

Crack the egg into a heatproof jug with 1 tablespoon cold water and beat well. Combine the sherry with 125 ml water in a small pan and heat gently until it is hot but not boiling. Slowly pour the sherry mix onto the beaten egg, mixing all the time. Return to the pan, add the syrup and a sprinkle of nutmeg, and heat slowly, stirring all the time, without boiling (this is crucial) until the mixture thickens. Serve in a toddy glass: Mrs Beeton recommends accompanying the toddy with dry toast or crackers. Water crackers might be ideal.