Part 93 Smooth streets and rocky roads


I am on an eating ride now. For lunch, at work I have yoghurt and vanilla pudding. At night it is shepherd’s pie and peas for dinner, followed by several pieces of chocolate. Then before bed peanut butter ice cream and a side of warm milk with cinnamon and whipped cream. This may not be gourmet to some, but I am truly loving it!

The esophageal biopsy report comes back positive – nothing but esophagitis, and that is manageable. In addition, my visit to ENT specialist Dr. Co- results in the clearest throat scan she has seen in me so far! Becah and I celebrate with dinner out. She has fish while I have the clam chowder followed by bread pudding with bourbon sauce.

The next morning I practice with the choir under the direction of guest composer Mark Hayes, who is demanding but polite (not always an easy accomplishment) in preparation for Sunday’s concert. Our family dines out that evening at Escalante’s Mexican restaurant, where to my amazement I finish all of my enchiladas, beans, rice, guacamole, chips, and queso without incident, enjoying every bite. The concert on Sunday goes well, and his arrangements of spirituals like “Ezekiel Saw the Wheel” are fun to perform. A dinner later of veggie burger with barbeque sauce, potatoes, and peas is also successful.

As the week progresses I stumble more on my eating efforts. I have difficulty one night swallowing pasta, usually a fairly easy food for me to digest and my favorite meal of all. Pizza (my second favorite) dipped in sauce does not work well either. Another night I choke on veggie stroganoff before having success later in the evening with soup. Even mashed potatoes one night are too thick to swallow. It saddens me enormously to see my condition improve so much only to regress.

February is here, wearing its overcoat to break the freeze, and snow is anticipated in a few days. Brooke is sick and I stay home from work a half day to be with her. By Friday school has been called off due to predictions of between two to five inches of snow (the icy powder hits north and west of us, though, so the kids get a free day off). On Saturday I attend a kids birthday party with Brooke, now well, and the girls are entertained by high school cheerleaders. That night we have dinner out, with me chewing tiny bites of food considerably more cautiously as my insides seem to be shrinking again. Our family watches “Despicable Me” again, and I realize I like this movie more each time I view it.

We dine with my parents on Super Bowl Sunday, watching Green Bay defeat Pittsburgh. I am unconcerned about the game outcome, but quite bothered by having to pass up most of the delicious food my mother has prepared. I flashback to past celebrations and family gatherings where I would load plate after plate of food that was superior to that which you would find in many good restaurants.