I bought a new domed cake plate that I’ve always wanted. It is Godinger crystal, and I have to say, it is gorgeous. It was on clearance from a department store I used to shop at, and the price was incredible, so I bought it. I’m not sure what possessed me to buy it. I haven’t actually made a cake in over 10 years, and with my PsA and the enthesitis in my elbows/wrists/hands, my ability to cook, bake, or even do basic things that require gripping, is extremely impaired.
I’ve been on a new biologic for two months now, and I’m starting to get a little more use of my hands and arms. I’ve been able to do a few things I haven’t done in a while – like cut my own food, and even cook my own meals (very simple ones.) It’s making me feel empowered. There is, however, a very fine line, because PsA is true to form, and pops up at the most inopportune moments just to remind me that I’m not in control of my life. This soul-crushing disease rears it’s ugly head whenever I start to feel better about things, or start to see some semblance of a normal life.
I decided I was going to make a cake to put on my new cake plate. I haven’t made a cake in at least 12 years (other than a microwave cake, which doesn’t count.) It felt very empowering to do something like this again. I’ve been looking forward to it for days. I planned to invite my neighbors over later today to have some cake and coffee. (I don’t actually drink coffee, but I know other people like it.)
I decided on my double chocolate swirl cake with white icing in between the layers, chocolate icing on the outside, and chocolate curls on top. It was really hard mixing the cake because of my hands. Holding the mixer for two minutes while beating the batter was really tough, but I did it. I did all the fancy fudge swirls in the batter, and baked them, and they baked perfectly! (I’ve never baked in this oven, so I wasn’t sure if it was level and the right temperature.) I tested the layers with a toothpick in the oven, and they were done perfectly. I took one out of the oven, very carefully, and put it on the cooling rack. It was perfect.
I carefully took the second layer, and then it happened — my grip just let go (damn inflamed tendons!) Enthesitis in your elbows will do that – you suddenly can’t grip something, or you have a grip on it, and your hand just “lets go” and flops helplessly to one side.
The pan slipped from my hand, and the next thing I knew, it was upside-down on the floor with hot broken chocolate swirl cake all over the tile! I stood there in shock, and then, I burst into tears. Not just tears — ugly sobbing tears — over a ruined cake! How embarrassing! I’m usually a very composed person. I don’t cry over things like a ruined cake!
So then I was in a predicament, because the cake was all over the floor. I can’t bend down to clean it up because of my balance impairment caused by spondylitis, and I can’t leave it there because if they dog sees it, she will gobble it up before I can stop her, and she is incredibly sensitive to chocolate. I thought about getting a broom and long-handled dustpan and trying to sweep it up, but that would smear it all over the tile floor.
So of course, I did what I always do in times of trouble – I messaged my neighbor, Pete. Bless his heart, he came right over and picked up the big pieces, swept up the crumbs and the small pieces, and washed the part of the tile floor that was all chocolatey.
I told him I felt like a complete idiot crying over a smashed cake, we joked around for a while, and he tried to make me laugh. All the joking did make me feel better, and after a couple of minutes, we were both laughing.
I’ve had so many things in my life that were worth crying over — serious losses, sad moments, hard realizations — and I totally managed to keep my composure, and then I cry over a ruined cake! I guess it was because I had put so much energy into making it – it made me feel so normal to do it – and then in a second, everything was a mess and my plans were ruined. This is the legacy of PsA – ruined plans and a feeling of not being good enough.
So before he left, the one remaining layer had cooled, and I asked him to flip it onto a plate for me (because I could just see myself losing control of it and dropping this one, too.) He did, and now I’m trying to figure out if I even want to bother frosting a single layer. It hardly seems worth all the effort. All that mixing, and swirling, and cleaning up dishes (mixing bowls, beaters, measuring cups, measuring spoons, etc.) all for this one layer of cake.
By this point, you may realize that my story is not really about a cake. I only made a cake because I wanted to feel normal again — do things I used to enjoy — do things that make me feel like a normal person again, simple things, like making a cake. I definitely don’t feel normal right now. I can’t even get a cake pan out of the oven! And if I accidently make a mess, I can’t even clean it up myself. That doesn’t feel very normal.
I’m feeling a bit defeated right now. I’m trying to laugh about it, but I keep going back and forth, between laughter and sadness. And as much as I sometimes hate being alone in the world, I can’t imagine try to explain these feelings to another person, and hoping he would understand, while all the time knowing that he wouldn’t. Sometimes, being alone has its advantages.
I’m determined not to let this get me down. I’m trying to be totally over it, and just laugh about it, but honestly, it’s a struggle. That voice inside me keeps saying “You aren’t good enough. You’re never going to be good enough. You can’t be like other people…so why keep trying? Just give up, already!“
I’m not going to give-in to that voice — but the struggle is real – and it has nothing to do with cake.