Tales of Scales...

Only skinny women smile on a scale...lol!!!

     I realize that nobody enjoys stepping onto the scale at the doctor's office, but when you're obese it is even tougher. My favorite type of device to be weighed on is the slide scale. The cute little nurse (it seems I always have the cutest and the smallest nurse) never wants to offend me when taking my weight. It's probably because she is afraid I'll eat her!
     Anyway, in order to not offend me the nurse will move the large slide to the 150 pound notch and stop. Then her little finger starts tap, tap, tapping the top slide all the way to the end. Quickly realizing her mistake when the bar never tilts in the right direction, it is still sunk on the left side, she attempts to distract me with idle chatter as she moves the large slide to the 200 pound slot.
     Now we're making progress. Tap, tap...tap.....tap, oops, a little back to the left. Ahhhh, there we have it. 200 and....whatever my weight is at the time. Finally, I decided to end the misery when I go to the doctor. I perch myself on the scale and move the large bar on the bottom directly to the 200 notch. I told my last nurse "Honey, I haven't been less than 2 bucks in years. Now let's see how much change I owe ya."
     I think I truly frightened a little nurse back when I had my hysterectomy in 2005. I had already gone to my "naked" appointment where I was physically checked out prior to my surgery. Two days later, literally 48 hours, I returned to just meet with the doctor in his office to go over paperwork and procedures. Did you know doctors actually have offices? With desks and everything.
     Like usual, the most petite nurse in the world (or at least that office) opens the door to the waiting room and calls my name in squeaky, high-pitched voice..."Kimberly???" I stand to walk with her into the back. Just the short jaunt down the hallway makes me feel like an Amazon compared to the nurse. I assume she is walking me to the doctor's office.
   Then we stop...right in front of the scale. "Go ahead and step on the scale for me" the tiniest person in the world says to me. I don't know what got into me, perhaps the stress of the upcoming operation, but I looked right at her and said "No". "No?" she asked. "No", I repeated. "Look", I continued "I was here two days ago. I was fat then and I'm fat now. I'm in no mood to step on that scale." I stared at her, she stared back.
     "I'll be right back" she squeaked and walked away. I sat there wondering what was wrong with me. Nobody likes a mean fat lady. I need to be jolly. I was also thinking that I was not getting on that scale and that tiny gal sure couldn't put me on it, at least not by herself.
     A few minutes later she padded back down the hallway. "You can follow me." She then escorted me to the doctor's office. Now was that so difficult? To all of the petite nurses out there, I apologize. I know I shouldn't take out my frustrations on you. My goal is to get to a point where my bad attitude  is greatly adjusted. As my weight goes down, so will my anxiety level about the doctors' scales...and it'll save all the tiny nurses in my life.