Good advice?
Like most advice columnists, I get far more questions than I can use, and the only ones that get answered are the ones that are published in my column. (I wish more people understood that about the nature of advice-column writing, but that’s a topic for another day.) I think perhaps once or twice I’ve written a person back directly, not for publication. One of these happened last week, and it’s fairly obvious why the following question would have caught my eye:
My partner started a new job, and colleagues have been inviting us to dinner parties to welcome us. This would be great except that I have a digestive disorder and have strong reactions to dairy, red meat, fried food, shellfish, chocolate, and alcohol. It feels like a big imposition to give hosts this long list, especially when we barely know them and they are already being so kind. I don’t want them to feel obligated to serve some dreary menu lacking all these yummy things, or feel they need to cook extra things for me.
I need to make a good impression, not be a pain in the neck. But I can’t eat those foods; if there’s alcohol in something, I get sick pretty rapidly.
Is there a graceful way to inform hosts about my health issues but not make them feel they must go to extra trouble? Or is it better to say nothing, show up, and just eat the carrots? Or should I just stay home? Thank you!
The LW signed the letter with the initials “IBS.”
I wrote back:
I almost never e-mail directly to questions, but I’ve got a lot of food-related q’s coming up in the column, so this one won’t make it in.
I also have the digestive trifecta: IBS, gastritis, and GERD. You and I could have a good time together drinking our herbal tea (with no mint!) and playing “Forbidden Foods Bingo,” so I’m really feeling where you’re coming from.
Here’s what I’d do. I think you should go. We’re not living in the “Mad Men” era where the proper corporate wife was an essential part of her husband’s career, but still, it’s good to get to know the folks your partner will be working with. Bail on a couple of dinners, if you need to, but do try to make most of them.
For the ones you’re going to attend, call the hosts. Tell them something like, “I’m so looking forward to meeting you. Unfortunately, I am dealing with some digestive issues at the moment, and I’m on a ridiculously restricted diet. Can I bring a side dish? It would make things easier for me, and I don’t want you to have to change your menu.” Then you make your side dish, bring it (along with some non-alcoholic wine or sparkling cider), and eat that and whatever else you can have. If they protest, laugh and say, “No, believe me, I can’t eat X and Y and Z and A and B–you’re not the Canyon Ranch Spa, I don’t expect to be catered to! Besides, my partner loves all those things, and it’s not like s/he gets them at home!”
If the colleagues become close friends, you’ll work it out together over time. And I don’t know why telling people you have digestive issues “at the moment” makes them more comfortable (and less likely to tell you about the magical cure that worked for their sister-in-law) than admitting to a chronic condition, but it does.
Good luck!
“IBS” wrote back, thanked me for my advice, and said things had been going well so far.
I’m still questioning myself about that “at the moment” thing, though. I’ve been saying this a lot about myself, but that’s because I’m still working out exactly how much margin for error I have in my diet. IBS clearly knows, and doesn’t have much margin at all.
So was I going against my own principles of body acceptance, and acknowledging our “sicks,” by suggesting that IBS elide the actual nature of her condition? (It’s not a lie, per se: she is dealing with IBS “at the moment,” after all.)
Yet I find people are more comfortable, and also much less likely to pry/sympathize excessively/suggest cures, when you frame your condition as temporary. So if “I have a chronic illness and I’m not ashamed of it” is something that a person is militant about, there’s going to be the psychic cost involved of constantly dealing with the clueless. (Obviously, whether you frame an illness as short- or long-term depends on how visible it is. You can’t see that IBS and I have diseases. People like the woman with trichotillomania don’t have the luxury of this debate.)
There’s also something known as the “primacy effect” that comes into play here. People tend to place greater weight on the first pieces of information they receive. If you lead with your illness, which IBS would have to do if she’s calling people she never met to ask about their menus — that’s going to be the main thing people remember about you. By downplaying the illness and, er, up-playing her willingness to bring a side dish and enthusiasm to meet her husband’s colleagues, IBS can shift her initial impression from “the sick lady” to “the friendly lady and creative cook.”
What do you think? Was my advice good, or too namby-pamby?
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16 Responses to “Good advice?”
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Robin, I like your advice, in that the phrasing shifts the emphasis away from the illness. However, if I were the hostess, I would insist on being given the entire list of verboten foods, and would consider it a challenge to come up with a creative menu that my guest could enjoy. While I would appreciate the guest’s willingness to make do, it is important to me to serve a meal that all of my guests can/will eat. I frequently accommodate food allergies and just plain preferences for folks, and don’t consider it an imposition at all.
I definitely think that’s great advice. It’s really hard to explain chronic illnesses; I have a one that doesn’t even have a name, and one of the most annoying things about it is that it makes me only sometimes allergic to certain foods. I’ve had people freak out when they’ve seen me eat these foods, or get upset if they’ve made accomodations for me that are not necessary at the moment, or get annoyed if I can’t eat certain foods when they’ve seen me eat them.
The problem is that my illness is very hard to explain, and even the second most knowledgeable person about my illness–my mother–doesn’t get it. It’s pointless for me to try to update EVERYONE when I can or can’t eat certain foods (what am I supposed to do? Make it my facebook status?), so I just have to deal with re-explaining constantly.
I agree that a polite host would try to ensure that there was food for everyone; when I have my friends over, since two of them are vegetarians, I make sure that there’s vegetarian food they will both enjoy. But on the off-chance that a host isn’t as polite, Robin’s advice is great.
I like your advice, Robin, and I use that, too — “right now,” “at the moment,” etc. I don’t want to explain the chronic nature of my gut issues — I hate talking about it, and one of the big hurdles I’ve had to overcome in dealing with my sick is learning to talk a bit about something I wish could be kept intensely private.
Luckily for me, I am rarely invited to formal, sit-down meals. My chosen profession and its pay level tends to keep me in a pot luck-friendly crowd, so I can always bring something. I often eat a bit beforehand, just in case, and when I am with friends, they know my myriad issues.
I think part of it is the comfort level of the sufferer of the sick. I don’t want to share, so I choose not to. I would be really uncomfortable under akmom’s questioning, though I would know she was trying to be accommodating and kind.
I have plenty of my own eating issues. I think your advice makes sense. i always feel terrible giving everyone the rundown plus my husband has some (different) issues as well so I figure together we’re a pretty annoying couple to entertain. ;)
As a host I think I’d like to know what the person can’t eat if not to completely avoid all of those ingredients but to be able to tell the guest what is safe and what is not.
the part i hate about sharing is then feeling like everyone is watching everything i eat. Maybe that is just me being self-conscious and not really happening, but I don’t like having my food choices then scutinized. I haven’t tried the “right now” approach. Maybe i should.
Bluemoose, I hadn’t thought about it that way. Would you be more comfortable with a hostess suggesting a menu? I’d hate to make a guest uncomfortable by trying to accommodate them! I always ask guests I don’t know well if they have any dietary restrictions or preferences (like utter hatred of mushrooms) I should consider when planning the menu, and never considered that I might make someone feel badly by doing so. Eek!
“I always ask guests I don’t know well if they have any dietary restrictions or preferences (like utter hatred of mushrooms) I should consider when planning the menu, and never considered that I might make someone feel badly by doing so. Eek!”
To me, there’s a difference between asking guests you don’t know well if they have preferences or restrictions, and insisting on being told about those preferences or restrictions (which is how it was phrased initially). I think if I were inviting someone I didn’t know well over for dinner, I might ask if there was something I should stay away from (and I might use the example that I don’t like lamb), because I’d hate to confront someone with something like that. But if they said, no, nothing, I’d leave it at that.
My question for those for whom this is an issue, would that be okay?
Mostly to avoid that primacy effect, I would try to get away with not mentioning my condition if possible. As bluemoose said, fill up on something beforehand, and she can likely get away with just eating salad and no one will give it a second thought. She’s “on a diet” if anyone asks, but they probably won’t.
Do Robin’s body acceptance principles oblige her to disclose personal details to others? I thought it was more of a being-honest-with-yourself kind of thing.
Interesting exchange, akmom and bluemoose. I had much the same reaction as akmom when I read Robin’s post, and then immediately thought, wow, I bet I could be kind of obnoxious in my insistence on accomodating IBS’s issues. I love to cook and entertain and pride myself on my ability to make an enjoyable meal under pretty much any restrictions, so I’d see IBS’s issues as a fun challenge, and I can see myself frustrating IBS as s/he tries to avoid getting into The Sick Talk with me.
So nice post, Robin, you’ve potentially saved my dinner guests from wanting to run screaming as I insist on playing superhostess. I’m sure they thank you!
But in answer to your question: why is it somehow morally mandated to give a detailed or accurate picture of one’s illness under any and all circumstances? That’s the implication I get from your question, anyway, that you feel like not answering in strict accuracy is somehow…cheating. But you – general you – don’t owe the world any more information than you feel like sharing.
Choosing language carefully is something I think a lot about when I have reason to mention my husband’s physical limitations. See how I did that, right there? I quite carefully thought about whether to say “my husband’s disability” or “my husband’s handicap,” and don’t both of those phrases give you a very different picture of my husband than the language I chose? I am very aware of not leading with the disability (and there’s a whole body of thought about not saying things like “a disabled person,” which foregrounds the disability, in favor of “a person with disabilities,” which foregrounds the person). It DOES make a big difference in the impression others take away. I often try for more neutral language like “my husband uses a wheelchair,” or “my husband has mobility issues.” All of these things are true, but each creates a rather different image of my husband; the more disability-centric the language, the more people make all kinds of assumptions about him, that he’s immobilized, unable to work, mentally challenged, lord knows what.
So obviously, I’m all for framing the presentation in the way that works best – and I think that paradoxically, doing so may give a more accurate overally picture of you and your relationship to your body and health issues than choosing language that might be more technically accurate as to the state of your illness. But what are we concerned about here? Accurately presenting YOU, or accurately presenting your illness?
I guess it’s about the dialogue – if a guest offers to bring a side dish so they have something safe to eat, a host could politely push just a little – ‘If you don’t mind sharing your restrictions with me, I’d truly be happy to find something to serve that we can all enjoy, but if you’d be more comfortable bringing something, I’m thinking of serving X, Y, and Z.’ Saying I would ‘insist’ on the guest sharing their restrictions was a poor choice of words. I appreciate being made aware of the potential pitfall before managing to get myself into trouble with it!
MelissaJane, really excellent points. I’ve often made the point to people with chronic illnesses/disabilities whatever that it’s THEIR story, THEY get to decide how and when to share it. I suppose, for myself, I’m balancing my own need to be out of the closet with a need to, as several of you pointed out, not foreground my illness as the most important thing about me.
Also, Abby and Phira, I too can sometimes have certain foods and beverages and sometimes not, so I hear you on the whole not-wanting-people-to-freak-out bit. I know my body, so just let me enjoy my iced coffee in peace! I *really* hate feeling policed–do please tell me if the punch is spiked or if there is pork in the dumplings, but once I know, don’t comment on my choice.
As a hostess, I generally ask people if there is anything they have “ethical, esthetic, or allergic reactions to.” That way, people can tell me what they do or don’t eat without having to give away the reason why. If it’s someone I know well, and who is comfortable talking about what they can and can’t have, I too, like akmom, enjoy making a creative menu. (My best menu is the appendix of my book, in fact.)
akmom — I don’t mind someone asking if I have dietary restrictions and/or preferences — but unless I’ve met you a few times, I am not going to share the list or feel comfortable discussing it. If you asked particularly after my offer to bring a side dish, I would probably tell you I’m lactose intolerant, and leave it at that, but I still wouldn’t expect to be accommodated (most people don’t really know how many foods that excludes, and I like to leave them in peace about it).
So yes, ask. Don’t insist, and don’t push. Once I’ve been to your house once or twice, I will know better what you’re like and how you cook, and I will know YOU better, and might be more willing to share more — or just talk food. I love talking food, and my dietary restrictions and issues have made me more creative.
Jerry said:
“…fill up on something beforehand, and she can likely get away with just eating salad and no one will give it a second thought.”
I always wonder why salad seems to be the go-to “anyone can eat” example of food. I have a good friend who can eat most kinds of lettuce, but romaine will cause her serious pain. She doesn’t know why. Her food issues are sporadic and whimsical. But she definitely won’t eat random greens without knowing what they are, just in case.
Oh, and salad alone is definitely not IBS-friendly!
It is seriously a pain to try to explain what foods I can and can’t eat. It makes a lot of sense physiologically, but not in terms of how we categorize foods culturally. Somehow “high in soluble fiber, limited insoluble fiber, low in fat, nothing from mammals” just doesn’t click as well as “low carb” or “vegan”. The closest I’ve gotten is saying that I’m one of those “tea and toast” people, and that doesn’t help a host at all!
I feel horrid when people want to have us over for dinner because I just can’t explain all the restrictions my partner and I have. It seems so unfriendly when all I’m doing is trying not to be sick. Pre-vetted restaurants are my current solution, but I fear that seems insulting to people who love to cook.
“It is seriously a pain to try to explain what foods I can and can’t eat. It makes a lot of sense physiologically, but not in terms of how we categorize foods culturally.” That is a really smart point, RP. Our cultural food categories don’t necessarily line up with the actual science of food …
Can you try describing to people what you CAN eat instead of what you can’t? Or is it really that complicated?
And yeah, salads can cause me some problems too. I’m still figuring out what vegetables I can eat raw and which I can’t.
Robin, that’s generally what I try to do, since no one really wants to hear a laundry list of don’ts. But the sticking point is that the result ends up sounding so boring (fish or chicken plus cooked vegetables plus grains) and the standard way of sexing up food tends to be adding fat and/or cheese, or making it virtuous means raw vegetables.
I think the best conversations I’ve had with people were *conversations*. I say something like low fat, no red meat or dairy; they respond with something that may or may not work; I suggest a change; and so forth. It’s very easy to feel shameful in the process, though; I’m making someone’s life more difficult and I know they want to help. This may be part of growing up Midwestern, though!
And the smooshability of a fruit/vegetable is a good indicator of whether it’s problematic. Not smooshable? Cook it, chop it, and make sure you have some bread (or something) with it.
I have a friend who is allergic to citrus, corn, wheat, rice, turkey/chicken, peanuts and treenuts, soy, dairy, and a lot of fruit. He could eat beef and pork and true vegetables (nothing with seeds inside) and that was about it. Crazy! Another friend made him cookies out of potato flour and he was over the moon. It had been 15 years, since he’d had a cookie.