slow cooker steel cut oats
I made these overnight in my trusty slow-cooker. They’re made with steel cut oats, maple syrup, golden raisins, dried cranberries, and a touch of salt and cinnamon. A great breakfast to wake up to. And since my husband dislikes oatmeal, I get to enjoy this for breakfast the rest of the week.
Note: clicking on the photo takes you to Flickr.
Ouch, that must have been hard. I am a social worker and often come home after listening to so many sad stories to cook. It’s kind of conflicting but also comforting. You’re doing more than most by just being there to listen, so keep it up sister.
What a sad situation. Your patients are fortunate to have such a caring physician.
The cookies do look so comforting and delicious.
I think you’re a superhero! I know so well, what it’s like to be on both sides, the needing and the giving. I bet he’s grateful and perhaps you gave him some hope and for certain put as smile on his heart for that moment.
I believe you need to have homemade cookies readily available for indigent patients of yours. I have a microwave you can put in your office. This was a very touching blog. How heart-wrenching that must be for you to know your patients cannot afford their meds. XXXOOO
I don’t know how you do what you do, but I am so glad it’s you who does it.
You’re a good person MJ – and doing exactly what you’re supposed to be doing when you should be doing it. And I know I don’t need to remind you that your patient is where he’s supposed to be – in your care . . . The world needs more MJs
I’m not a religious man, but you are an angel darling. I mean that. I’m sure that meant the world to him. It wasn’t trivial at all. He needed those mess and you provided that to him.
oh man. What a tough job, and what an absolutely lovely human being you are. I’m sure that $20 meant the world to him… I mean, how many people would do that? Feel good about what you did 🙂
Gosh MJ, yours is a hard job. I think the way you handled the situation was lovely. Poor man, to be suffering with cancer and losing his home, I feel so distraught for him. Your cookies sound delicious, if anyone is in need of a cookie it must be you.
I’m not sure that I would have the strength to do what you do, you are a pretty amazing person.
You are a wonderful, caring person and a credit to your chosen profession. That gesture represented so much more than money for medication to your patient.
You are a wonder. I worked for an oncologist for eight years. I took their calls on the weekend to help my doctor, I went to their houses to hold their hands, I baked for their families – I did everything I could because I knew my doctor was so busy and had a family. He would have never done what you do – he was a good man – but he wouldn’t struggle with finding a way to help him or even given him $20 – he would have maybe mentioned to me – to see if a social worker could help him. The $20 doesn’t mean anything to this man – the fact that you thought and felt enough for his circumstances to give him the $20 – means the world to him. You renew my faith in humanity. xo
While $20.00 seems inadequate to you, the compassion you showed your patient gave him a small peaceful pause in a stressful situation. Good on you!
What Gail said.
My heart always hurts for anyone struggling like this.
MJ, your storytelling is beautiful, even though the situation isn’t.
And those are my kind of cookies. Comfort on a plate.
We are called to love one another and what you are feeling in your heart is that conviction. Sometimes its the smallest acts of kindness that mean the most…
I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been, to be so close to human suffering on so many levels. You are a blessing Merry Jennifer.
You are a blessing to many, that’s for sure. xo
Heartbreaking. Thank you for sharing his story.
You did what you could and I am sure it meant more to him than you will ever know! xoxo
The smallest acts of kindness are sometimes the most memorable..that was wonderful.
My sister is a doctor in geriatric medicine in Tampa and I hear similar stories and it does break our hearts. How helpless we feel and so wish there was a way we could do more. Maybe a plate of homebaked cookies, as trivial as it seems, on the corner of your desk could at least bring a temporary smile to someone’s face. And that is wonderful.
Lovely storytelling rich with compassion and truth and even the seemingly smallest of gestures matter!
I’m sure you did more than most would have done