I remember many years ago when my kids were little, their dad and I noticed how all the kids’ vitamins and medicines came in different flavors. We were jealous that our vitamins and meds didn’t come in yummy flavors too. Yes, those liquid cold medicines we used years ago came in flavors, but none of the other things we were taking did.
“Pain is just part of aging.”
That’s what my doctor said to me when I said I was scared about taking pain killers on a daily basis for the pain and stiffness in my hands. I’m a retired court reporter, and my hands have always been very important to me.
“I’d rather talk about sex, body odor, or even my personal finances than check my numbers!” This was the feedback we got when Dor and I first hatched a plan to get our group to test their blood sugar. Nevertheless, we decided to tackle the obstacles standing between us and normalizing the checking of numbers.
Somebody must have known that I would make lemonade out of all those lemons I accumulated. That’s my idea of a spiritual solution: when everything fails and you can’t help yourself, take what you learned and help somebody else.
Véronique:
As a child, I spent most of the holidays at my grandparents’ summerhouse in Normandy, France. This is the land of rainy days and green lush pastures. Normandy is known for its horse breeding farms, beautiful brown and white painted cows, and for its delicious cheeses named after Normandy villages such as Camembert, Pont L’Évêque, Livarot and more. This is also the region of the apple and its many incarnations. Needless to say, it is a land of good food and beautiful scenery.
I can go for days without getting snared by some trigger that pulls me into thoughts of candy bars. But then something will set me off and I’m not just thinking, I’m filled with ANTS (allowing negative thought space) in my head.
Hi, my name is Karen. I’ve lived with type 1, insulin-dependent diabetes for the past 20 years, but my struggles with food began long before this diagnosis. I had always been an active and thin child and never gave a second thought to my weight or the food I ate. I loved to ride my bike, run, jump, play outside, and be adventurous. It wasn’t until I was a teenager that my issues with food, weight gain, and dissatisfaction with my body began. Prior to my senior year in high school, I had spent a summer in Norway living with a rural farm family.
I named my Suppers story “Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice” instead of “On Feces,” which is what it’s really about. But if I called it that, I think most people wouldn’t read it. There are not many things more important than good digestion, and I stand up at meetings for normalizing conversations about bowel function. Due perhaps to shyness, it is possible that some people don't even know what it would mean to have really good bowel movements. How often, how it would feel, look, and smell.
My Little Pooh Bear is six years old. He floats along a line they call “ADD/Autism spectrum”.
I have met many children who are more affected than he, so I guess I should be counting my blessings. My friends who have children with similar challenges have collected a sizable mass of information on behavioral interventions, dietary interventions, and educational interventions. We could write a book. And my chapter would be called “Rabbit Pellets and Skinny Snakes: Pooh Bear’s Journey on the Toilet”.
“You always put too many vegetables in my food!”
One delightful evening when my husband and I had dinner plans, I made our two teenagers a frittata with goat cheese and, I admit, too much spinach. One son devours everything I cook and the other only eats it after tormenting me with complaints about the healthy ingredients. I have always prepared my family’s dinner, even when I was working full time, but there have been significant shifts since I started Suppers.
