The Food That Ruined Restaurants
For three years it tried to kill me. Now, it sucks joy from my life.
For months I wondered if there was a photo of me in the kitchens of certain restaurants with the caption, “Kill this woman.” I had no idea what I’d done to upset these chefs, but I did know that whenever I ate in a Lebanese or Italian restaurant I’d get so sick I wanted to die.
Imagine feeling the movement of your food as it’s pushed through your digestive tract, from your esophagus to your stomach. There’s a rhythmic, wave-like motion called peristalsis that makes this happen. You’ve probably never felt it because, like most things that happen inside our body, we’re blissfully unaware of it—until something goes wrong.
For me, the trigger of that “something’s gone wrong” can be Baba Ghanoush or falafel, fettucini alfredo or Ceasar salad. Within 30 minutes of eating those foods, my peristaltic contractions become so strong I can’t breathe when the muscle tightens. It feels like my body is trying to push glass shards, as quickly and forcefully as possible, through my digestive system.
These debilitating cramps last five hours. Like clockwork. And then, I’m able to breathe, to relax, for about five minutes. Because that’s when the vomiting starts. All that painful work to get the food into my gut…
