The magic doesn’t end

I'm a dietitian and I love my work. My clients are older adults living independently or in care.

Jo Pannabeker

(NZRD) Specialises in Older Adult Nutrition owever, I don't love my title so much. 'Dietitian' sounds so clinical, and has associations with handing out food rules and restrictions. Which

is so not what I do.

Here are two reasons I love my work.

Firstly, the food. Food turns up at so many important points of our lives (such as birthdays, weddings, anniversaries, funerals), and is so much a part of everything we do (daily routines and habits) that all its goodness can be overlooked.

It connects us physically with our environment - the places we buy our food from, the vegetables we may grow in our garden, the places we eat with others (picnics, our favourite cafes, the back deck, the kitchen).

Food keeps us alive, quite literally, and also feeds our social connections, our family and cultural traditions. We know these are important, and they become increasingly relevant as we age. We will gather together over food, we will prepare meals for people who are important to us, and we pass down food traditions to the next generations.

Your regular diet may now include international cuisines such as Indian, Thai, or English/Western, but as we age we often return to the favourites of our childhood. When I ask elders about their preferred foods - especially if they are not feeling very well - they often describe the food they ate as children.

Do you have grandchildren who ask you to tell them what your life was like when you were their age? How about telling them a food story? My great aunt used to tell me about picking blackberries along the lanes on her way home from school, and about the first time she ever saw and tasted an orange.

My grandfather described his favourite type of bread made in his village and the espaliered pears in his uncle’s garden. I haven’t eaten those rolls or pears, but I absolutely associate my grandfather with those two foods. Those, and the cherry tart he brought to Sunday lunch each week.

Try this exercise: think back to what you ate as a kid, say, under 10 years. What are the first things to come to mind? People? Place smells? Feelings? How do you eat now? How different is it? What differences do you like and why?

The second reason I love my work is my clients. These are elders living either in their own homes or in care.

Older adults have unique nutrition needs that are different from other age groups. I don’t think many people realise this or take it seriously. What our bodies need at 75 is different from what we need 55. Health is also measured differently from our younger decades (hint: weight loss is not desirable). And as we age we collect an increasing number of challenges that make getting the best nutrition more difficult. For example, chewing and digesting meat becomes harder, appetites become smaller, loneliness can increase, and enthusiasm for cooking can wane.

Doing ‘all the things’ to stay in best health can take up half the morning.

And here’s where the two intersect: when I can work with an elder who is struggling with any aspect of their nutrition (food, drink, appetite, constipation, energy, swallowing - the list goes on) and am able to adjust meals and snacks to suit their preferences and needs, I can improve their quality of life, reduce the dread of mealtimes, and know their body is being nourished to be at its best. This is super rewarding work, and also an honour.

Everyone relates to food. We all need it. We need it in ways that are unique to us - our age, our preferences, our heritage. And food can keep on delivering the magic of health and connection until we hit 100, so don’t settle for blah or the ‘same old, same old’. Go for the magic!