Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Can YOU count all the bad puns?

It's difficult for me to remember a time in which I was not overweight. It is also difficult to remember a time in which I cared. No, for as long as I can recall I have always bellied rude comments about that fact. Because that is what it is; I am fat, and I could not care less if someone points it out to me.

I went to my doctor recently to get medicine for some problems I had been having, and a vaguely predictable outcome unfolded.

The doctor seemed to be so excited to find someone of my girth that she could not restrain herself in regailing story after idiotic story of her own youth. The woman insisted upon reporting to me that she too, had been fat in her college years. She phrased it in such a way that irritated me more than it should have; slathered with sincerity as if encouraging me that it was OKAY to be fat.

-As if this had never dawned on my in my 18 years of life, in a country the majority of which is overweight. And more severely so than myself, I'd like to state. I suppose I can't blame her for not knowing about my unending apathy. The doctor told me several stories about stealing food, sneaking it into places and even memorizing the pattern in which her roommate dug into her Häagen-Dazs ice creams so she could scoop some out in the same way- which I laughed at, but quickly silenced myself when I realized she was being utterly serious.

My attempts to rally her back on topic ended in a disastrous lesson on STDs and an entirely unsolicited step-by-step walk-through of various Gynecological procedures.

In the end I was given prescription-strength Advil and sent on my way. It baffles me why this exists- the pils are so large it seems like they just taped several Advil together and you can achieve the same result by doing just that. But, the conversation with the doctor left me with something. Well, not really, she just made an offhand suggestion to join Weight Watchers. I won't give her any credit for it, though, because that was still not the point of my visit.

Discussing weight with my mother later, I relayed to her the doctor's suggestion. My family as a whole hasn't been particularly healthy as of late('late' meaning 'ever' in this instance), and it's something that seemed to be growing into a problem. So last Wednesday we someone all ended up at the nearby Weight Watcher's building, listening to a very loud women talk about points and thanksgiving.

One question nagged me throughout the meeting.

Truly perplexing!