I am a/an _______ eater. Fill any adjective in the blank—emotional, bored, drunk—and it's an accurate descriptor. And I think it's hereditary. Look at any member of my immediate family at any point in time and there's about a 97 percent chance that they'll have some kind of foodstuff either in mouth or in hand.
That is, until last week. My Dad, who has been living life as a born-again bachelor for the last ten years, essentially ate his way into the hospital. After subsisting on nothing but fried or frozen food my Dad had not one, but TWO heart attacks in one month. The end result? A quadruple bypass and one hell of a restructured diet.
By no means is my father (or myself, thank you very much) one of those circus sideshows that gets featured on 20/20 while Barbara Walters squirms uncomfortably avoiding drops of perspiration or getting squished. But he's definitely not built like Bob Saget. To further complicate matters, diabetes, heart disease and an assortment of cancers run in my family, so even without any compulsive over snacking problems, my Dad was already walking on egg shells.
What concerns me most is not the long recovery process he faces or post-surgery complications, but rather, how do you teach a 64-year-old man that everything that tastes good is just one more nail in his coffin? When I asked my Dad minutes before his surgery what he was most worried about, he responded, ""life without butter."" And there was genuine terror in his eyes.
Not only can he not eat butter and other fatty foods, but he's also on carbohydrate control, a low-sodium diet and has to enter an exercise program three days a week. When the nutritionist came into his room, it was like a parent trying to explain where babies come from to a four-year-old.
My Dad: ""So I can't eat cheese? But I love cheese.""
Nutritionist: ""If you're going to eat cheese, you need to find low-sodium and reduced fat cheese, and then use it sparingly. Dairy is very high in fat. You also need to avoid drinking soda and alcohol and anything with high sugar or carbohydrate counts.""
My Dad: ""What am I supposed to drink then? Water?"" *Makes disgusted face*
Nutritionist: *Makes horrified face* ""You don't like water?!""
My Dad: ""It's alright I guess... it doesn't taste like much though.""
Nutritionist: ""Okay, well you can also drink milk as long as it's skim...""
Here my Dad interrupts Mrs. Nutrition and exclaims, ""Ooh, I like milk!""
Nutritionist: ""Very good, Mr. Levy. That's very good.""
For a moment, I wonder if she's going to give him a treat or start petting him. She decided to move on instead.
Nutritionist: ""On this pamphlet here, there are a list of fats that are good and on the opposite side, what's bad.""
She hands my Dad a thick pamphlet that details what he needs to eat and what he absolutely cannot eat. He looks very disinterested and I can tell that he is beginning to hate the nice lady.
Nutritionist: ""A good general rule of thumb, don't eat any fats that aren't liquid at room temperature. Olive oil, peanut oil, canola oil, all liquid at room temperature. Butter, lard, anything that's solid is going to clog up your arteries.""
My Dad: ""Well that's ridiculous. No butter? We're going to have to find a way around that.""
Nutritionist: ""Um, well, I don't think there's really any sway in your diet when you've just had quadruple bypass surgery.""
I think she was trying to emphasize the severity of my father's heart condition, but he seemed to think it was more proof that he should be able to enjoy food after such a severe surgery.
The conversation continued this way for awhile, my Dad trying to fit butter and sugar into his daily diet and his nutritionist explaining that unless he wanted to die—literally—he would just have to make the switch to margarine.
It may sound insane to you but my Dad was raised in the '50s and '60s, before smoking cigarettes was bad for you and before seatbelts were even invented. Health just isn't in his nature. I just really hope that it is in mine.
In light of my Dad's surgery and overall unwellness, I've decided to make some serious life changes, starting with ending my current diet plan, Operation Eat on Sight. I foresee some major changes in the future... just not any that eliminate ice cream or alcohol from my life. Then it just wouldn't be a life worth living. Sorry Dad...
If you have some great diet suggestions for Jillian, she doesn't really care. However, if you have coupons for Lean Cuisines or Miller Lite, email her at jlevy2@wisc.edu, and do your small part in helping her toward the healthier lifestyle she really needs to aspire to.
