“Have you eaten?” It’s the inevitable question from my mother, regardless of my age or the fact I’ve lived independently for over 10 years. It used to annoy me. Does she think I’m not capable of managing what I eat?

As a quadriplegic with an inaccessible kitchen, I never thought I’d be able to cook — dicing, chopping, picking up pots and pans. Turns out I can. Whether I’m following a recipe or I’m creating something with the food I have available in my home, my role is to give step-by-step instructions, assess if we’re on track, taste-test and approve the final product.

My personal attendant serves as my hands, following instructions and occasionally offering suggestions. With her hands and my directions, we have fun cooking up a tasty feast or sometimes barely edible experiments. She pre-cuts and assembles my meals in containers and places them in the fridge where I can reach. Retrieving my food requires control and precision. If I drop things and no one is around to pick it up, I can’t eat and there’s a mess on the floor that only the cat will enjoy.

I think about food a lot, mostly because it’s good, but more importantly it impacts my life as a person with a spinal cord injury. As I have gotten to know my body, it is fascinating to see that what I consume makes a difference in how I feel and function. Which foods provide the nutrition I need to help my skin stay intact, my bones strong, my gut healthy and my immune system ready for battle? To me, food is medicine when I am sick, and it is the life of a dinner party. Food is culture and a connection to the Earth and my family.

It doesn’t bother me when my mother asks anymore. Sometimes I hope she asks, “Have you eaten?”

With a full stomach I reply, “Yes, but what’d you make? Yes, I want some!”