Doctor Doozies

WEEK TWO, DAY ONE = 255 lbs (-3)

     I know I gave nurses a hard time in one of my previous posts, but lest I be accused of not being fair, allow me to tell how doctors have also enhanced my fat experience. Like I've explained, being overweight was not something I experienced early in life. When I became pregnant with my daughter in 1994 at the age of 21...one of my biggest fears was gaining enough weight to reach 200 pounds. Oh the HORROR! Hell, now that's not far off from where I'm aiming as my goal weight.
     In 2003 my ex husband and I were living in Lakeland, Florida and I was working at Brandon High School teaching students with severe emotional disturbances. I was also experiencing some differences of philosophies with a colleague. Needless to say it was a stressful time. Upon arrival home one afternoon  my ex took one look at my overly flushed face and told me to get back in the car. He drove me to the volunteer firehouse around the corner from our home to have my blood pressure taken.
     I can't remember the exact reading but it was not good. I promised to make an appointment with my doctor and we went home. Knowing that I can be stubborn when it comes to going to the doctor, my ex decided to go to the appointment with me. There we sat in the small examination room, me on the "table" and my ex husband in a chair in the corner.
     Before I continue my story, there is one thing I have to tell you. Everyone has that one body part he or she hates above all the rest. That one area you wish you could change even if you could change nothing else. For some it's their hips, or their thighs, or perhaps their tummy. Mine is my upper arms. I detest my upper arms. I never wear anything sleeveless because I am foolish enough to think that covering them with material will disguise their girth. I shoot eye daggers at skinny armed women at Disney when Kevin and I go to the parks. Walking around in their tank and spaghetti strap tops. I just want to smack em!! When it comes to pictures I am the "Queen of crop" I try to position myself on the end of group shots so I can crop my arm out. Yet another fat life adaptation I have mastered.
     So back to the doctor's office. I'm on the table and my ex is in the chair when the doctor enters the room. He looks at my chart and sees that my blood pressure is once again elevated. He then looks at me and says..."Did they take your blood pressure with the big cuff?" I look at my ex, he looks at the ceiling to avoid eye contact with me, and then I turn to the doctor and answer..."No, they did not use the big cuff." Meanwhile my ex is still counting ceiling tiles, too afraid to get involved.
     The "big" cuff was brought in and my blood pressure was still elevated. Even with the "big" cuff! The doctor starts discussing ways to keep my blood pressure down. He talks about reducing the stress in my life. Yeah, that wasn't happening. Then, because I knew it was coming, I say "I could stand to lose a few pounds too." Chuckle, chuckle.
     Doctor Feel Good doesn't even look up form the chart when he says "Yeah, like 50". Wow!! A+ for bedside manner you turd. Now to his defense, I did need to lose 50 pounds, but he could have been a little gentler in his delivery. Fat people have feelings too!
     My next doctor "realizing I'm fat" experience came about six months ago. For the past two years I have had trouble with swelling in my feet and ankles. When I mention it to people they always ask "Do you eat a lot of salt?...to which I resist the urge to reply "Well I have a salt lick on my bedside table, is that a bad thing?" I don't mean to be a jerk but yes, I know that too much salt can cause swelling. It appears to be more than that.
     I went to a cardiologist to rule out heart concerns. I then went to a vein specialist to explore that possibility. I had been joking with my friends and sharing my philosophy about the reason for my swollen ankles. What did I blame it on? Being fat, of course. See...I explained to my friends that what happens with my blood cells on the way to my feet to remove excess waste product is that they get tired. They hit just below my knees and are so dang tired from traveling through all the other expansive areas of my body (butt, boobs, belly and don't forget my arms) that they just give up and turn around.
     All of my friends laugh and call me crazy. That's not it they tell me. Well, I shared my funny hypothesis with the vein doctor and guess what? He agreed with me and said I wasn't far off. Nice!!! I'm telling you, my medical woes can all be traced back to being overweight. Which is one more reason why this journey is so important. I must reach a healthier weight for reasons least of which is to look better. Although that won't be a bad thing either.

Look at that arm? Good grief!!!