By I went back to work on Monday.
I dropped Liam at my mother's at seven-fifteen. He was in a good mood, had eaten, had slept a normal amount, and reached for my mother immediately when she took him, which is the best possible outcome and which still required me to sit in the car for four minutes before I could drive away. I drove to MGH. I parked in my usual spot. I put on my badge, which had been in my work bag since February, and walked through the door.
The floor smells the same. The sounds are the same. The nurses' station is arranged slightly differently because someone reorganized it over the summer, but otherwise it's all exactly where I left it. My colleagues were warm and gave me appropriate attention and then immediately treated me like I'd never been gone, which is exactly right. Oncology nurses don't have time for prolonged reunions. There's work to do.
Two of my long-term patients had died over the summer. I knew this from the colleague who'd covered for me—she'd texted when it happened—but seeing their empty names in the chart is different from knowing. I stood at the nursing station for a moment with that particular weight. Then I went to work.
Frank's wife had called the floor in June. He passed in late May. The card his family sent is still on the nursing station bulletin board. I read it twice and left it there.
When I came home at six-thirty, Sean had dinner started. Liam was in the bouncer in the kitchen. Liam looked at me when I walked in and made the sound he makes when something important has arrived. I sat on the floor next to the bouncer and let him grab my finger and I was completely home.
Sean had dinner started when I got home, and that’s the detail I keep coming back to. He didn’t wait to see how I’d feel, didn’t ask if I wanted takeout — he just started something warm and real, the kind of thing that fills a kitchen with a smell that means you’re home now. A chicken and rice casserole is exactly that kind of food: unhurried, nourishing, already there when you need it. It’s the recipe I’d put on before a hard day and the one I’d want waiting after one.
Chicken and Rice Casserole
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 55 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 5 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts or thighs, cut into bite-sized pieces
- 1 1/2 cups long-grain white rice, uncooked
- 1 can (10.5 oz) cream of mushroom soup
- 1 can (10.5 oz) cream of chicken soup
- 2 cups chicken broth
- 1/2 cup sour cream
- 1 cup frozen peas
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/2 cup shredded cheddar cheese
- Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish (optional)
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Heat oven to 375°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish.
- Mix the base. In a large bowl, whisk together cream of mushroom soup, cream of chicken soup, chicken broth, sour cream, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, and pepper until smooth and combined.
- Add rice and chicken. Stir the uncooked rice and chicken pieces into the soup mixture until evenly coated. Fold in the frozen peas.
- Transfer to dish. Pour the mixture into the prepared baking dish and spread into an even layer.
- Cover and bake. Cover tightly with aluminum foil and bake for 45 minutes, until the rice is tender and the chicken is cooked through.
- Add cheese and finish. Remove foil, sprinkle shredded cheddar evenly over the top, and return to oven uncovered for 10 minutes, until the cheese is melted and lightly golden.
- Rest and serve. Let the casserole rest for 5 minutes before serving. Garnish with fresh parsley if desired.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 480 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 52g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 890mg