Friday, August 05, 2016
So, today on my lunch break I went to the store and bought an entire key lime pie and ate a big old hunk of it, and then I crammed the rest of it into the tiny office fridge, and I'll take it home tonight where I'm sure I'll eat another big-ass chunk, and truth be told key lime pie is not even my jam, but I think I'm having a delayed and totally inappropriate reaction to the doctor's appointment I had yesterday.
I had to go to the doctor for a follow-up visit after my little meltdown this past Spring, and actually I've been doing really well, and I've stopped taking the Celexa completely and can't remember the last time I had to take a Zanax or whatever the hell it's called, but the doctor had scheduled this follow-up visit when I was in the LAST time, and so I went.
And all was well and we were chatting and blah blah blah and she's asking me all the standard questions, and she asked if I'd had any recent weight loss or gain, which, COME ON, she's got my damn chart right in front of her (yes, I AM cranky AF), but ANYway, I said that yes, I'd gained a few pounds, and it was probably due to eating my own weight in soft-serve this summer. And she laughed and then asked if I exercised, and I said yes, and she said something about eating less and exercising more, and blah blah blah and it frankly kind of pissed me off.
Because do you know what I weighed yesterday morning? They weighed me practically when I walked in the door, and the weight was listed in the file that doctor had in front of her, as she encouraged me to eat less and exercise more.
I weighed one hundred and twenty-one pounds, I am 5'-5" tall, and that doctor was sitting there telling me to MAKE SURE I EXERCISE ENOUGH TO KEEP MY WEIGHT DOWN.
I ... I'm still kind of pissed off about it, honestly. (See: Key lime pie for lunch. HAHAHAHA)
It reminded me of when I was a kid and still seeing a pediatrician (his name was Dr. Greene), and my mom took me in for a checkup, and I was 4'-11" and weighed 86 pounds, and the doctor started lecturing my mom about putting me on a diet. A DIET.
My mom, being quiet, didn't say anything to the doctor, but when we left the office, she did tell me, "Don't even listen to that doctor. He doesn't know what he's talking about. Your weight is fine." And I mean, I KNEW my weight was fine. I was a freaking BEAN-POLE at that age, FFS.
So there I was yesterday, all 5'-5" and 121 pounds, and I've never had a weight problem in my LIFE, and this piece-of-work doctor was telling me about the necessity of diet and exercise.
And if it was like that for me, I cannot even begin to fathom the type of sh*t that overweight people must get handed when they go to the doctor.
Now EXCUSE ME, I need to go get that pie out of the fridge.
Maybe it'll make me less cranky.