Doctor Rita has diagnosed my ailment!

December 23, 2011 at 9:45 am (Christmas Spirit, Day to Day, Losing the Fat, My Mom) (, , , , , , , )

After extensive research that included reviewing all my symptoms, observing my behavior, and a long wait in her brain surgeon’s office, she delicately broke the bad news to me that I was, what they like to call in the medical world: F. A. T.

Thanks Mom! And yes, that is a picture of a slug up above. It was crawling on our garage one balmy autumn morning as we have had quite the unusual temperate temperatures around here lately. So much so that slugs are actually slime-ing all over the buildings to remind me of my dread disease. I figured it was appropriate now that I am aware of the root of all my medical problems.

Believe it or not, it was pretty funny when she kindly said to me, “You know, all these problems, I think it’s just because, you know, you’re really starting to put on the weight…” As she trailed off while pointing to my overall fatness and touching her lower face and chin area at the same time, remarking, “You’re getting more chins than me…you should probably do something about that.” It really was hilarious. I was so surprised. Not shocked. Because she is right. I have kind of porked up these last few months despite my strict exercise program of working out once every two weeks or so. But it really wasn’t what I expected her to say. And it was so matter of fact that we just sat there, across from each other for a minute and then I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. We were laughing like truly brain damaged people in the brain surgeon’s office over my giant fat body…I said, “Geez mom, way to break it to me gently: ‘Oh, by the way, you have more chins then a Chinese phone book, do something about that would ya…’ ” No offense intended to anyone, but that made us laugh even harder.

If you can’t count on your mom to give it to you straight who can you count on? So I weighed myself when I got home. It’s bad. And I just weighed myself today and I think it’s worse. I actually went to the gym too. Several times. So I am going with my original diagnosis which is a growing, but benign tumor that is adding weight to my body without my knowledge. Too bad the tumor is probably made of cookies and pizza and alcohol. Anyway, I got three days of exercise in last week and three days in this week, but I haven’t reduced my intake by enough to make me hungry and crabby. That’s how you know. Get ready for some crabby ass posts next week because it will NOT be pretty. That first week is going to SUCK. I hate starving myself but it seems to be the only way to jump start any kind of weight loss and to kill the taste for those delicious fatty, greasy, sugary, sweet, savory treats that are so available this time of year. I will only say that I have remained inside the 100’s weight-wise, but if I don’t stop the train now, I am going to careen off the track into the 200 pound valley of pain. It’s bad enough that my skin is stretching to its maximum limits. It’s letting loose and I can tell it wants to go all floppy. But I can’t be weighing more than my mother now so the end is near. Damn. Why does food have to taste so good??

Alright. Speaking of food, I have to go and have breakfast with my sister-in-law since it’s her birthday today. Happy Birthday Carole! Even though she doesn’t read this, but she would appreciate the shout out none the less. I will try to order healthy and prepare myself for the coming days. A lot of damage can be done when you give up and say, “What the hell.” I don’t want to have to lose any more weight than I already have on me.

So, to sum up: I am not dying of carbon monoxide poisoning. Not having strokes. Probably don’t have lupus. No MS or any one of the degenerative nerve diseases. No tumors. My mom has ruled all these serious illnesses out and has slapped me back to reality. My name is….and I am a fat ass.

I love you mom. See you in a few days.

 

Permalink 5 Comments