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A Foodie’s Lament April 1, 2006

Posted by becoming in Becoming Healthy.
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I was talking recently with the Cardiac-Care Home-Health Nurse (who was diagnosed about 9 months ago with Type 2 Diabetes) about how frustrating and depressing it is to look ahead and think about all the many, many foods I’ve loved which I really can no longer eat.

Obviously anyone who’s forced to face a diagnosis of adult-onset diabetes is going to have to accept certain dietary sacrifices to preserve health and prevent significant lifespan shortening.

And naturally, in the case of a morbidly obese man who has recently had a heart attack and gone through quadruple bypass surgery, only a fool would expect not to have to make drastic lifestyle changes.

I am both, of course. And, yes, I know I can’t continue to eat the things and the quantities that contributed hugely [no pun intended] to getting me into these circumstances, this shape.

But for me in particular, I suspect the sense of loss, of mourning is especially acute. I’m what many people would call a “foodie” {“foody”?}. I watch the Food Network more than any other TV except perhaps for the History Channel. I own hundreds of cookbooks, each of which I cherish. I adore the act, the art of food preparation …finding the perfect, freshest ingredients possible …learning new techniques …trying new flavor combinations. It is the closest I have ever felt to “doing art”. Food is not something with which to simply stuff my gut, it’s something to be appreciated, savored bite-by-bite, in the same sense that one would approach a fine wine.

To carry that wine anology forward in an awkward manner, I feel as if I’ve been told:

Yes, you can still drink wine, but from now on Cabernet, Zinfandel, Merlot and Shiraz are strictly forbidden.

Mourning is a good word for it.

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