(Draft)Love Hate Food Relationship

Whitney Smith

ENG 121-012

Food Narrative

24 February 2011

Growing up with a strong Hispanic/Mexican heritage, I have been surrounded by food my entire life. Food is probably the most important element in the Mexican culture. Most traditions and daily acts revolve around the preparation and eating of food. my family and I always joke how food is involved in pretty much everything we do. Whenever I walk into a relative's home the first thing asked is, "Are you hungry hita?" No matter what the occasion is, there is always food, enough to feed an entire village (or my family). Every family member contributes, each bringing something to share with everyone else. Everything steaming hot, from the cornhusk wrapped tamales that one can't wait to unwrap, to the freshly home made tortillas rolled out into perfect circles.

Over the years, I have developed bizarre and fastidious cravings for these foods from my heritage. I connect certain flavors and smells with many compassionate and comforting memories of family. The comfort I get is an extremely satisfying and uplifting feeling. Linking the present taste to a feeling I previously had before. Whenever I eat my grandmother’s potatoes, eggs, bacon and green chili breakfast it takes me back to when I was little and slept over her house. There was never a morning she didn’t cook me breakfast while I was still watching television in her waterbed. No one has ever made a more delicious breakfast nor have I met anyone who can cook like my grandmother

Food always has had a tendency to put a smile on my face. Then I had a turn for the worst medically. A little more than a year ago I developed very intense stomach pains and debilitating nausea. I couldn’t keep even keep liquids down and because of that I needed to be attached to an IV at all times. I spent almost four months in the hospital being put through test after test after retests. The doctors were stumped; they had no idea what was wrong with me. After all the doctors had no clue how to move forward they just simply pointed their fingers at me and said I was doing this to myself. The doctors sent counselors into my room saying I had to be bulimic and ordering cat scans of my brain assuming they did all they could do. This sent my emotions in a downward spiral. I knew in my head and heart I was not doing this to myself even though the medics did not believe me. All I could think to myself was, “I love food. Why don’t they believe me?” Finally the Doctors decided to put me through one last test, a gastric emptying scan, even though it was a “long shot.” The test results that came back were repulsive. The gastroenterologist only had bad news for me, telling me that they finally found the root of my problems. He explained to me that I have very severe Gastroparesis. This completely shifted my life around.

Since gastroparesis has no known cure, the only thing I can do to help cope is drastically change my diet.