Ok, maybe I just expect too much. I went to the psych evaluation and thought that the person evaluating me should be the kind of person who has empathy for fat people, as in, the person should have been fat. She wasn't and obviously had never been. That should really have been the tipoff that I was in Seinfeld's 'Bizarro World.' Am I wrong here? Is it too much to expect that the people who profess expertise in something be the picture of what they profess? Where would Sylvia Browne be with all her psychic books if she wasn't even marginally psychic? Don't you expect that when you go to a mechanic, his car shouldn't be broken down in his driveway? When you go see Dr. Phil, do you expect that he is going to be a divorced psycho mess? So I go see the Doctor who RUNS the Weight Management Program and I expect him to be? Help me here. That's right. THIN! But instead, in walks the kind of jolly guy that I expected to see in the psych eval. Yessiree Bob, this paunchy little fellow runs the whole program. I am looking around for all those little shakes they showed us in orientation...maybe he is currently ON the diet. Maybe he is drinking those babies down four or five at a pop like Yoo Hoo and he ran out. Maybe he gets thin, then fat and then gets thin again, just to show the patients how well it works. I really have no idea. So I can't wait to hear what he has to say.
First, I have to tell you, I didn't really want to be there. When you are over 40 you do NOT want to go for anything called a "physical." I could take the EKG heart test with the super-glue stickers they use to remove the hair from your chest. I could take the tube they stuck down my throat when they did an endoscopy like Indiana Jones looking for an ulcer. I didn't even mind all that much when the Ear, Nose and Throat doctor stuck the tube in my nose and down the back of my throat...and I still have no clue how she was supposed to find the source of my allergies that way...but I didn't mind that much. So there I sat with my eyes just scanning the entire room feverishly for that little box that looked like tissues, but had those clear rubber gloves in it. I was here for the diet, not to make intimate friends.
The other thing is, no doctor has ever performed a physical on me where I thought they had the potential to discover anything that I couldn't already have imagined I had or had self-diagnosed on the internet. I always get the same questions during the appointment. Real penetrating questions. Family medical history (I wish they would type it into a permanent record...I didn't make it up last time and I don't expect it to change...much), job history (stressful?...and they are always surprised when you say 'yes') and recent emotional history (they want to make sure they can get out of that little room alive). Blood pressure. Listen to the heart ("take a deep breath...now don't breath normally"). Take the temperature. Someone, at some time, should explain to me how accurate those new thermometers are when they get dragged under your throat and across your forehead for 1.5 seconds. How the hell is it that you have to shake down the thermometer in your house for 5 minutes and suck on it for 3 minutes yet this thing can register your body temperature in 1.5 seconds? One time, seriously, the nurse said "96 degrees". I said, "shouldn't I be 98.6?" She said, "close enough." Medical science. As we reach the finale we always have the rubber glove handshaking...his glove, my shaking. Then there is the usual final diagnosis..."you need to lose some weight." Seriously, somewhere in Granada there is a third world medical school that is just pumping out the graduates.
Compared to my usual visit, this one was quicker and more efficient. My jolly doc just went through the standard questions, reviewed the blood test I had taken at their request, told me how the diet would work, and asked me if I had any questions. I had read a lot about the diet, no questions really. He said my weight and BMI (body mass index) had me right on the border-line between overweight and obese. Obese...gotta love that term...or better yet 'morbidly' obese. Nice to know they have a term for those times when obese just doesn't quite decribe you. Because I was border-line I got to choose between two programs, Full-Fast or Modified-Fast. The difference you ask? Modified-Fast is three 160 calorie shakes per day and one carefully measured meal. Full-Fast is 5 of those same shakes per day, all liquid. I chose Modified-Fast, no need to be extreme here right? I was quite happy. We did all this with my clothes on.
He told me I would have to get an exercise evaluation but that I could start the program without that...I could get that later. I chose a Thursday night program that I would have to attend once per week (more on that later). And so there I was, ready to start the program. Finally, after all the waiting and evaluations, I would start the program. I was actually excited.
DickThinks
As an aside from my diet, I should apologize because I missed blogging last night. You most likely don't care. I did, however, make a promise to myself to try to have an entry every weekday. Last night didn't work out. My very generous son gave me his cold...something I actually haven't had since before I began my diet last July. The sore throat was starting and I went into the cupboard in search of my old friend. There it was all the way in the back, hidden from months of non-use. That tall fat bottle with the clear plastic cup perched upside down on top of it. Yep, 40% alcohol and 60% heavy duty medicine. You know you are using stuff created by a pro when it comes with its own plastic shot-glass. You got it...Nyquil. The Nightime, Sniffling, Sneezing, Coughing, Aching, Stuffyhead, Fever, So You Can Forget Tomorrow Medicine. It's the only medicine I've ever taken where I can wake up 10 hours later and feel like I am wrapped in cellophane. It says on the side of the bottle that you should take it in bed. That's because if you don't you might pass out between the bathroom and your bedroom and hit your head on a coffee table or something. Nothing like medical lawsuits. So needless to say, I did a shot of that and was out like a light. Sometime this morning in the middle of a 10AM staff meeting I woke up and wondered what I had eaten for breakfast. But at no time did I remember blogging. So tonight, I blogged first. Now, off to my Nyquil. I am going to try to dream that the Conflicker virus does not infect anyone and that April Fool's day is uneventful! Until tomorrow...
Next: My First Weigh-In
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