BulgingButtons

Not bad for a fat girl

Tag Archives: health


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The Dreaded Physical

I did it. I went to the doctor for my annual physical and I did all the stuff I was supposed to do. Well, actually not ALL, but most of it.ExamTable2Web

Let me explain. I go to a medical group where there is a huge focus on wellness and preventative care. They have LOTS of different machines and an in-house lab and all sorts of ways to assess your health. That is generally a good thing, but each year for my physical they order all these tests that really don’t change from year to year, and they don’t change what the doctor will tell me. He will tell me what he always tells me, “lose weight and some of these other things will take care of themselves.”

Now you have to understand that I’m generally quite healthy. I know that being an adoptee puts a giant question mark into my medical chart, but in fairness I get a yearly pap, a yearly mammogram, and bloodwork done quarterly. Some of the other tests and procedures are just not medically necessary (so says my health care provider, and I agree). A healthy person doesn’t need a resting metabolic rate test each year, or an annual chest x-ray.

I felt a weight lifted off me, because typically their procedure for a physical lasts about 3 hours, and that doesn’t include the appointment 2 weeks later to discuss all the results. I was in and out in about an hour and a half, including the mammogram, so that wasn’t bad.

I also felt better about it than usual because of my trusty towel. How could a towel help me? Well I decided that I’ve had enough of sticking to the paper that covers the exam table and then shredding it as I scoot down to the edge of the table for the exam. I get shreds of paper all over my backside, and I end up on the vinyl cover of the table itself, which is what the stupid paper cover is supposed to prevent. Enough. This time I brought along a clean towel from my linen closet and placed in on top of the exam table before I sat down. When it came down to scoot there was no sticking or tearing, and my dignity (what was left of it) remained in tact. Next I need a cape.

A cape, you ask? Yes. You see the mammogram lady (who is contracted through a separate company, so she does things a little differently) had these wonderful cotton capes. The design was similar to a Christmas tree skirt, with your head being the tree, of course. It was soft, modest, and easy to move out of the way for the exam. I need to make myself one to replace the paper vest that the doctor’s office provides.

The paper vest is another humiliation that I just don’t need in my life anymore. First off, it doesn’t cover anything on this body, so as I’m waiting for my exam I sit sort of hunched and cowering. Secondly, somehow I managed to split the thing right down the back. Well, it is paper. So now instead of a vest, I have two completely separate pieces of paper around my shoulders covering my sides and little else. Never again. I’m going to make an examination cape and that will solve that.

These types of appointments are uncomfortable enough, without being made worse by the humiliation of being exposed and subjected to conditions that are awkward and unpleasant. With a few small modifications, I can make myself so much more at ease, and hopefully reduce some of the stress that I associate with my yearly exam. What do you do to help put yourself at ease at the doctor’s office?


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Crossing the Line 

I’m not sure exactly when it happened, but at some point over the past few months, I crossed the line. I entered the realm of the really really fat, and it sucks.

I’m not the same person I was just a little while ago, at least not physically. I’m achy, my joints are stiff, and my range of motion is limited. Simple tasks have taken on a new complexity that, frankly, is ridiculous.

If you’ve been with me for a while, you may recall my fear of flying. It wasn’t the flying itself I dreaded, it was the thought that the seatbelt wouldn’t fit. It didn’t. At least I came armed with the knowledge that requesting a seatbelt extender isn’t really that big a deal, except in your own mind. It does get easier, though, you’ve just got to own it. The problem is, I don’t want to own it.

I also don’t want to own the fact that I don’t always fit in booths at restaurants. This reality escapes the skinny little hostesses who seat us, and my mother, who likes booths for some reason. In a chair I’m in charge of my own destiny.

While we’re on the topic of sitting, even that has changed. The larger a person gets, the more difficult it becomes to sit in a ladylike manner. Think of a Teddy bear sitting. His legs automatically open wide, it’s the way he’s  designed. Well, as a person gets bigger, that’s what starts happening, at least it has to me. That makes keeping my already ample legs in my own airline seat difficult.

It also makes getting a pedicure a challenge (but it’s pretty much a necessity since reaching my toes is difficult enough without the added pressure of trying to make them look good). The sweet young women who work on my feet have no idea how difficult it is for me to maintain the position they put me in. I’m pretty sure they think I’m stupid, stubborn, or a combination of the two.

Even sitting in a chaise lounge in Mom’s backyard has gotten difficult. First there’s the fear that I’ll snap one of the ancient straps. It could happen to anyone, but I’m the one who’s fat, so I would never hear the end of it if that actually happened. Then there’s getting back up. The other day I was out there alone and I tried it. I just couldn’t quite figure out how to get up from that chair without flipping it or breaking my neck. Eventually I did it, but I was glad I was alone. I think I’ll read in a different chair from now on.

One year ago these were not real issues to me. Sadly they are now. So what’s next? Part of me is tempted to skip my upcoming physical because I know it won’t be pleasant, but I won’t. Maybe it will be the kick in the pants I need.


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Countdown to 50

It even looks awful

What have I gotten myself into this time?

I’ve agreed to a challenge in which I will consume one veggie smoothie per week in place of an actual dinner with the thought that I will thereby lose 50 pounds over the course of a year.

You see, this summer I’ll be turning 49, and it would be fantastic to face 50 a little leaner. Ok, maybe not leaner, but with 50 fewer pounds of fat hugging my body.

How did this challenge come about? Well… one of our favorite breakfast places has begun serving smoothies as well as delicious skillets and omlettes. No, we didn’t order one, but it got my sweetheart thinking that if we replace just one meal per week, it could make a big impact. That and cutting down on the chips and dip and Hot Tamales, of course. Before I knew it, I was agreeing to try it. We’ll begin after my summer trip, so that will give us about 50 weeks to drop the 50 pounds. That’s totally reasonable.

Oh man, I’m afraid already. I HATE vegetable smoothies. If you have any recipes that don’t taste exactly like vomit, I’d love to hear from you.