Monday, April 13, 2009

I am NOT the biggest loser

I had to go to the lady-parts doctor last Thursday. They wouldn’t refill my birth control otherwise. Anyway, since I tend to avoid going to doctors, she’s the only one I see with any regularity and I like to take advantage of my visit by talking to her about general health stuff. [She was the one that prescribed my Prozac better than two years ago.] I brought up my weight to save her the trouble of being delicate about it. She said our hospital does lap bands now. Seriously? I’m a candidate for surgery now? How’s that for a wakeup call.

I told her I’m not interested in surgery. I know that I am an emotional eater, so I don’t see the point in having surgery if I don’t address the root cause, you know, my PSYCHE. So, how do you do that? Hypnosis? Bribery? Rubber band on the wrist? I suppose one obvious suggestion is counseling, but I don’t wanna. [Want some cheese with that whine?]

Shit. I could just give up and hover around 300 pounds for the rest of my life, however long that ends up being.

A while back I was trying to lose weight the old fashioned way and it wasn’t working. I decided to go the [regular] doctor to get my thyroid checked, but the appointment fell through and I never rescheduled. Since then I haven’t been very good, eating whatever the hell I want, so I should get back on track there, right?

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