Seamus Mullen posted a tip for making this 7-minute egg perfection on instagram a few days ago, and after listening to him on the Rich Roll podcast yesterday I was inspired to make ’em. I put ’em on top of a kale salad with shallots and leeks that had been cooked in ghee and hot sauce.

Perfection, indeed.

But let’s back up to the podcast for a second. If you or anyone you know/love is dealing with a medical condition, struggling in a bad cycle of pain > medication > helplessness, etc… have a listen. Seamus and Rich both know a lot about health and wellness and overcoming disease, and it’s not only inspiring to hear their stories, but you’ll probably learn a thing or two as well. I know I did.

http://www.richroll.com/podcast/seamus-mullen/

Now, to make the eggs!

Boil a pot of water, drop your eggs in, set a timer for 7 minutes, then plunge into a bowl of ice.

Done. Perfect gooey yolks.

Other times I like to challenge myself — make something I’ve never made before — pick a recipe with lots of ingredients ’cause the playing and measuring and perfecting of the flavors is soothing. I find cooking to be truly therapeutic.

Making these lamb chops with greens and salsa verde was one of those times. It was the first time I ever made lamb at home and it definitely won’t be the last. I don’t know why we always gravitate towards chicken, steak, and bacon, because lamb is delicious, too. I guess because it’s easy. It’s familiar. It’s going the breakfast-for-dinner route.

It’s fitting, then, that this recipe is from Seamus Mullen, from April’s Bon Appetit, because he is someone who has never taken the easy route. Those close to me know that Seamus, the award-winning chef, restaurateur, and cookbook author, is the reason why I went to see Dr. Lipman, who helped him get off all of his medicine and cure himself of rheumatoid arthritis (RA). He’s the reason I believe that health begins in your gut and why I no longer eat grains or sugar, and instead focus on healthy fats. He’s also one of the reasons why I am sososoclose to getting off my arthritis medicines.

Last year at this time, when I first met Seamus, and later, first went to see Dr. L, I was taking 14mg of prednisone (steroids) a day; now I am taking 4.

Four is so close to zero. But I still have a ways to go. Good health (and more specifically for me right now, getting off my medicines) is a marathon, not a sprint.

Seamus recently spoke at Mind Body Green’s Revitalize 2015, and in his talk, he mentions hearing about Ari Meisel, who cured himself of Crohn’s disease through a combination of diet and exercise. He said he saw Ari’s story and said to himself that if he can do it, I can do it. That sentiment resonated with me because the same thing happened when I first read Seamus’ story; I said to myself that if he can do it, I can do it. And I am so close.

If you watch the video (he starts speaking at minute mark :23) — and I hope that you do — you’ll hear him talk about making a plan with Dr. L for how they were going to get him better. He says that for the first time, “I went from being a patient to an active participant in my well-being.”

I love that — an active participant. So many of us (wrongly, in my opinion) believe we can go to the doctor, get some medicine, sit back, and let it work its magic. Poof, you’re better. But it doesn’t happen that way — at least not in my or most peoples’ cases.

So, Seamus, this one’s for you. Thanks for the inspiration (and the delicious lamb).

I think about where I was last January — a month away from getting married, working out 5-6 days a week, feeling good, feeling strong, feeling in love. I was cooking all the time, but lots of fish and grains then. My ankle had just started to bother me and I began experimenting with new drugs (under the guidance of a rheumatologist, of course) to help with the pain.

But things went from bad to worse with my foot after that and in May I went to see Dr. Lipman, who would not only flip my diet on its head but also eventually change the course of my RA. It’s still a work in progress, of course, but I’m starting to feel some real changes in my arthritis that begin, as he believes and I now do as well, in my gut. To that end, he gave me some probiotics and other “gut-healers” to put in a shake each morning. I also started on a pretty strict Paleo diet and since then have only had a few bites of grains. Same for sugar and alcohol. (I had already given up dairy years ago.) I added some pasture-raised, grass fed meat into my repertoire, which was a weird thing at first — I had some moral dilemmas about it — but I decided to let my body choose. If it would help my gut, my joints, and by proxy, my RA, then I’d keep eating it. And it has. Foods like coconut oil, almond flour, ghee, grass-fed steak and bacon are now staples of my diet and I’m happy to say that arthritis-wise, I’m feeling good.

I’ve gotten off some of those aforementioned drugs I tried and more importantly, significantly tapered the steroids I’ve been on for years. My goal for 2015 (amongst others) is to get off of them completely. It will be tough and it will take time, but I will do it.

If I can get through this last year of joint pain and eventual foot surgery, I can do anything.

Which is why, in the right context, the pull quote on the magazine cover above makes sense. My RA is a blessing because it’s allowed me to appreciate every step I take (literally and figuratively) and discover what food my body can and cannot tolerate. Would I rather not have RA? Of course. But now I’ve got two healthy feet and a husband who loves me, so I’m actually pretty lucky.

That girl on the cover is hiding a lot of pain. My foot was killing me that day, long before I had surgery. Her name was different then, too.

This girl, Jamie Stelter, is ready for anything.

So here’s to another year of health and strength… and of course, many more TV Dinners.

** If you want to read the full cover story, you can find the Arthritis Health Monitor in many doctors offices. **

Man, had I missed it.

Yesterday was my first time there since before my foot surgery in November. I’m still walking in my boot — should be my last week of it! — but it was the first day I didn’t need my crutch. I had been leaning on it for support and safety because I just didn’t have the strength or energy to walk on my own. But I do now! Progress is a beautiful thing.

And so is the grocery store. We really take so much for granted everyday and of course you don’t realize whatcha got til it’s gone. But as people whizzed by me yesterday, in a rush to grab what they needed and get the hell outta there, I took my time. I smelled each green. I read each label. I poured over all the choices and took in the beauty and wonder that is each aisle of Whole Foods. It was glorious.

Brian came with me to mark — and celebrate — my return to the grocery store. Or maybe he’s just happy he doesn’t have to try and figure out which manuka honey to buy anymore. Poor guy, taking me shopping via Facetime for eight weeks; he’s a saint.

I’m glad I could finally cook for him again last night. It felt like the first time I ever cooked for him, three years ago, on Valentine’s Day 2012. I was a little nervous, but very excited. Before we ate I thanked him for everything he’s done for me these past two months, including helping me cook the dinner. I still need some help in the kitchen — lifting heavy pots, reaching for things up high on shelves — but it is what it is. I’m doing what I can. I’m making progress! And even if I’m not 100%, it still feels damn good to be back.

Okay, one foot and one boot, but let’s not split hairs. It’s progress! Progress that I’ve been waiting a long time for — to stand up straight without the help of a crutch, a husband, or a scooter. I’m trying to celebrate the small steps towards recovery (no pun intended) but I’m also a bit overwhelmed thinking about the long road I still have ahead of me.

I don’t just have to re-learn how to actually walk, I also have to re-learn how not to be scared to walk. I had been walking in fear for so long — at how bad the pain would be each time I took a step — that I now need to learn that it’s not going to hurt. That I’m not going do something to hurt myself. That I can and should just… walk.

It’s just another test in a series of tests I’ve faced these past few months. I’ve learned a lot about myself, but I’ve also noticed something — that we only talk publicly about the good days. All you see on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram are the celebratory moments. Like the day I came back to work on my scooter and felt so triumphant after doing my first traffic report kneeling on the upside down trash can. Or when I found a comfy enough spot on my brother’s couch when we were celebrating Chanukkah to take a cute shot of me and Brian’s ugly Eagles sweaters.

But the road to recovery isn’t just shaped by the moments of progress. I want to remember and document the trying times too, because I think it’ll make me appreciate the joyous moments even more so.

When the doctor told me he could fix me and that I would once again, one day, walk again without pain: I cried. I was relieved.

When the nurses got me all prepped and ready for surgery and I sat there waiting to be called in: I cried. I was nervous.

When I woke up on my couch the morning after surgery and realized the anesthesia had worn off: I cried. I was in pain.

When Brian pushed me to the bathroom on a swivel desk chair for what felt like the hundredth time: I cried. I was helpless.

When I left the house for the first time to go for my follow-up appointment with the doctor, and I realized I didn’t have enough strength to use crutches: I cried. I was exhausted.

When I fell getting out of the shower, landed straddling the lip of the bathtub, and Brian had to help me up: I cried. I was humiliated.

When I walked around our apartment yesterday for the first time since November, I felt like a scared, clumsy baby calf learning to walk for the first time. I crashed on the couch after and curled up in a ball. Brian snuggled up behind me and gave me a speech about how far I’ve come and how much better off I’ll be after the foot heals. I cried. I was grateful; I am loved.

Long story, short: my rheumatoid arthritis (RA) got between two bones in my foot and wore away all the cartilage to the point that the two bones were rubbing against each other. I had been limping on my foot for about a year, sometimes barely noticing the pain. But when the pain went from bad to worse and I lost (almost) all function in the foot, I went to see Dr. Hubbard, Chief of the Foot and Ankle Service at Mount Sinai Beth Israel. He told me he could fix me, and two short weeks later I was on his surgical table, getting those two guys put in place so I could once again walk painlessly. (I hate to sound like surgery is no big deal, but three years ago I had a C1-C2 fusion surgery on my neck, also with titanium screws, and also because of my RA, which made me a lot more comfortable going into this one.) Once the joint has healed, the screws will keep the bones away from each other, while still allowing it to function as a “normal” foot.

It’s now been three weeks since foot surgery, and tomorrow, it’s time to go back to work. I have been so nervous about how I would get around, how I would open doors, how I would have enough energy to make it through the day. And then yesterday I went outside by myself for the first time in a month — using the life-saving knee scooter that Brian bought me — and I figured out how I would do it.

First there was the guy a block from our building who pulled his truck over, hopped out, and came over to fix the steering on my scooter. Then there was the lady at the corner of 12th and 5th who saw me stumble and asked where I was going, because she wanted to make sure I got there safe. And how about the guy at the corner of Charles and 7th Avenue who asked if he could please drive me home? (I politely declined.)

The answer is: I wouldn’t have to worry about doing any of the things I’ve been worrying about, because strangers would help me. Total strangers. And that was just three of them! Others helped simply by smiling, acknowledging that I was having a little bit of a hard time. It’s one of the many reasons I love New York. These people didn’t want anything in return; they did it out of the goodness of their hearts.

So my worrying, like most worrying, was for naught.

I’ve still got a long road to recovery — another week in the hard cast, six weeks or so in a boot — but at least now I can focus all of my energy on healing and getting back to a healthy, strong place — a healthier, stronger place than I was pre-bionic foot. I want to keep my RA at bay with good food, fresh food, real food, and lots of herbal supplements and vitamins. And when I need, like I did with the strangers yesterday, I’ll lean on western medicine for help. I’m hoping that won’t be often (or at all), but I can only do the best I can. Which is where TV Dinner comes in. As soon as I am back on my feet I plan to get back in the kitchen and cook lots of new recipes… ones that bring wellness and strength to my body. And in the meantime, in the coming weeks, I’ll share some recipes that I cooked up before surgery.

Have any questions about a subtalar fusion, my doctor, medicines, supplements, or RA in general? Ask away — either in the comments below or click here to send me an email. I respond to every single one.

I’m really looking forward to it because it’s been a rollercoaster of a year for me, arthritis-wise. I was the strongest and healthiest I’ve ever been leading up to my wedding in February, but since then have been dealing with a serious bout of pain, inflammation and disfunction in my ankle. I continue to try different measures — some old, some new, some western, some integrative/holistic — and I’m hoping to strike the right balance soon and shake this limp once and for all. The good news is, pain I was feeling elsewhere — in my hands, wrists and shoulder — has subsided… at least for now. But it’s a lifelong battle; one I’m learning more about every single day.

Which is why it would mean so much if you could walk with me on Saturday, December 6th here in NYC. Some people will run, some people will walk, and some others — like myself — will hobble as best they can. There’s nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about with this group. It’s a fun day, celebrating the life and function that we DO have. Not what we don’t.

So join me! Walk with me! And if you can’t be here, you can still support from afar.

We talked food / arthritis / love / so much more — so I’ll hope you’ll check it out. Jessica’s doing really great and really important work / spreading the good word about eating good food and living the good life, so it was an honor to be a part of it.

More recipes coming in September… til then, happy Labor Day weekend!

As many of you know, I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis about 10 years ago and for a while, it totally kicked my butt. While I’m now much better — happier, healthier — than I’ve ever been, I still have my days. Sometimes my ankles hurt, sometimes my wrists burn a bit; there is no cure for RA so it will never fully go away. Still, this feels like a bit of a victory lap. One that’s a long time comin.

I struggled for years to find answers, which is why I love the response I’ve gotten from TV Dinner readers who are trying to manage their arthritis. They want to try new medicine, new diet, new exercise — you name it — and while I can only speak from my own experiences and what’s worked for me, I’m always happy to help. I answer every email and try to answer all your questions, too… so keep em comin. We’re all in this together.

I think you’ll learn a bit more about my story (and my crazy schedule/routine) from Judy DiEdwardo, who wrote a lovely piece to accompany the cover. So I hope you’ll check it out. And a huge thank you to everyone at the magazine, especially Bryan Vargo (Lifestyle and Web editor) who was the first to contact me, and the delightful Susan Siracusa (Creative Director). This is truly a very special honor.