Soup For Our Souls

My husband, Jay, is a private man. The tightrope I am forced to walk along in order to satisfy my need to share and respect the comforting walls he prefers sometimes seems a ridiculous way for me to get from point A to point B.

It is no secret that two years ago, Jay was diagnosed with Celiac Disease. I frequently mention the gluten-free-ness of our lives and gratefully admit that we are comfortably adapted to the many alternatives offered in place of wheat, barley, rye and oats.

Merely forgoing gluten wasn't enough of a gastric challenge for Jay's body, however. If the lower GI tract is what suffer as a result of Celiac disease, then his upper GI must have felt left out because it stopped working. Known in the medical world as Achalasia, the smooth muscles in Jay's esophagus that automatically contract (peristalsis) to push food down into his stomach after chewing no longer function. In order for his food to go down, he needs the help of gravity, liquid and a quite a bit of luck. Unfortunately, because his lower esophageal sphincter uncontrollably spasms anyway (I know...the title of my blog suddenly makes sense!) his food often...way, way, way too often....gets stuck.

The stuck food hurts and if it won't go down then it must come back up. I honestly can't remember the last time I've witnessed a meal when Jay hasn't gagged up his food at least once. Usually twice. Very often three or more times. He has to be extremely conscious of what he eats, taking small bites, chewing and chewing and chewing some more and then following it all with a carbonated beverage (water and milk don't seem to do the trick).

The effects of Achalasia go way beyond his trouble swallowing, however. He can't eat as quickly as the rest of us and by quick I mean in under an hour. To eat a normal plateful of food, it takes him about five times as long to eat as me and the boys. He can't talk while he's eating or he gags. Add the two together and we've realized it's best if Jay just eats by himself while I clean up and put the boys to bed. It's not even close to ideal and on nights when a little devil sits too long on my shoulder, I fall into the temptation of wallowing in the unfairness of it all.

Eating in front of other people is also a very difficult and uncomfortable experience for Jay. His desire to not draw any attention to his "condition" isn't very likely when he's forced to leave the table two or three times during a meal to gag. I've watched him sit there and try to act normal when I know he has a lump of food painfully wedged in his esophagus. It's heartbreaking. So mealtime has become quite isolating.

We live during a time when eating is a major social event. Having anyone over or going to a restaurant seems like a rosy picture of the past. The motivation to do either isn't there anymore. It's not like he can talk and eat anyways. If we do have people over, or, somehow, miraculous make it to a restaurant, Jay manages the event by hardly eating. When the waiter asks if we need boxes, I know most of Jay's meal will be coming home where he can spend the next hour or so peacefully trying to get it all down.

He often comes home with his lunch cooler untouched because he can't dictate and eat on the side like he used to do and if a radiologist takes a lunch break, the images needing to be read pile up and he only has to stay at work later. His body and mind are starving and exhausted from a lack of fuel but even in his hungry state, he doesn't look forward to eating. It's so much work for him.

Crazily enough, Jay rarely complains. I'm not sure I could do anything BUT complain if I were the one cursed with this disease (although I'd take his 30 pound weight loss as a result of all this. In fact, why didn't this happen to me???). His patience is mind boggling.

Thankfully, there is hope ahead. Jay will be undergoing surgery on January 15th at University Hospital in Salt Lake City. The surgery is called a Heller Myotomy and there is a surgeon there that Jay feels confident will do the best job. He'll miss about a week of work and then be restricted to a liquid diet for about a month afterward. We have a lot of hope that taking this radical step will get us back to the business of only worrying about gluten. Those days seem so long ago and fancy free.

In the meantime, I have decided to cook soup. Only soup. For about the next three months. It's the easiest thing for him to eat and the most nutritionally packed "soft" food I can think of. This week, I've made chili and cheeseburger soup and have ham and potato soup planned for tonight. But I need help. I need recipes of tried and true belly filling soups. I need these to be family friendly and I need enough of a variety so that I don't go crazy. Please, please help.

Leave a link in your comment or if you have the patience and typing skills, type it out. If they are gluten-free...all the better but I've become pretty savvy at adapting recipes that aren't.

I hope this post won't embarrass him. Actually, I already know it will. To counteract my over-exposure, if you do happen to leave a comment, make sure and mention how cool Jay is because he likes that. And because he is:)

Help me feed this man!

Seriously...do I actually click on "pubish post"? I'm so nervous. I'm doing it!