Big Fat Rant, Part One
Warning – This post may contain discussion of weight, fitness, lifestyle and just Too Much Damn Information about me. Some people may be weirded out by the content; other folks may be moved to speak in an uncharitable fashion. Neither are particularly welcome – my space, my rules, OK? Proceed at your own risk.
Part One – In Which We Meet Our Narrator
My name is Chas, and I’m a fat bastard.
I’ve always been big, and I’ve never been slim. Even during my six years at boarding school, a combination of enforced physical activity, surging hormones and a monotonous diet couldn’t turn me into anything spectacular. When I hit my thirties, the inevitable metabolic slowdown happened, and I’ve been relaxing outwards in a gentle fashion. At 36, I now tip the scales somewhere above 130kg, and stand a fraction over 180cm. According to the assorted BMI calculators, that puts me at serious risk of any number of health issues. Of course, we educated folk know the BMI is crap. Still, the prevailing position is that I should do something about this.
Part Two – In Which Our Narrator Attempts To Improve Himself
I am, though it’s not what the medical establishment would want. And based on recent experience (see Part Three), the medical establishment can go roger itself with a large root vegetable.
I know my lack of physical activity is a problem. I’ve been walking to the bus interchange a couple of days a week, but the climactic extremes and broken sleep have been playing havoc with that lately. Madam and I have been dancing again, which has helped a lot as well. During the lead up to our showcase in June, we were in the studio four times a week, which was tiring but mostly fun. Right now, the work schedule doesn’t lend itself to much more, but I’m trying, I promise.
My diet hasn’t been the best in recent years either – however, having Madam to cook for has helped to keep me inspired. I’m slowly turning her into a food snob, and I’m very proud. We buy most of our groceries from the local markets, and only head to the supermarket for our extra bits and pieces. We make our own lunches most of the time now – I cook dhal, roasted pumpkin and other goodies, as well as providing plenty of leftovers. I’m auditing the junk food I eat at work, and trying to substitute the nastier ingredients out. I’ve almost cut caffeine out completely, and sleeping better, which is helping with everything else.
So, I’m taking steps, OK? I’m not the power-walking, bench-pressing, sprout-inhaling machine that I should be, but I’m getting somewhere.
Part Three – In Which Our Narrator Meets A Heffalump
A couple of months ago, I went to see a doctor at a nearby health centre. I had been suffering persistent headaches for a couple of weeks. Madam and I were starting to worry – I primarily wanted to know if the pain relief I was using was safe and/or sustainable. I knew this doctor could be a bit brusque, but wasn’t ready for the lecture I received. I got an old-fashioned patronising tirade that could have come straight from First Do No Harm. Among the highlights (the stuff that still makes me hyperventilate) -
- My weight and blood pressure were, without question, the reason I was there. I was lectured on both before either of them had been checked. Not surprisingly, my BP spiked between the first and second reading, as I was sitting there fuming and clenching my hands;
- I identified stress as a likely cause (I, at least, was still talking about my headaches). When I mentioned that my job situation would hopefully be changing in a couple of months? “Well, you’ll just have another job to be stressed about, won’t you?” Whether her point was that stress doesn’t exist, or that I’m an idiot for being stressed, I’m not sure.
- I have an extensive history at this particular medical centre. Once she’d managed to take my stress-elevated BP, she proceeded to Mark. My. Records. Seriously. She worked her way down the page, circling my previous BP readings going, “Abnormal…abnormal…” like a schoolmistress with a backward pupil. Cos my records were my fault, apparently.
- The use of statistics as a tool of humiliation. “Men with a girth of greater than 100cm have an increased risk of stroke, heart attack etc – and I don’t need to measure you, do I?..” I also went off the end of the scale when she weighed me (fully clothed plus shoes, I might add) so she happily guesstimated my weight and recorded that for posterity.
- An old fashioned lecture on the food pyramid, given without questioning what I eat and delivered in a seriously patronising tone. “Instead of eating five potatoes with dinner…? Try eating three!” Who eats five potatoes anywhere, ever? Seriously.
- An equally patronising lecture on physical activity, which I couldn’t deviate her from even after pointing out I already did the recommended thirty minutes a day (at the time, Madam and I were in the throes of dancing rehearsals).
- My headaches – the reason I’d come to see her – were literally ignored until after she’d finished with me and given me a “dismissed” look. She did a double take, said, “Oh, the headaches? With blood pressure like that..” and then proceeded with her self-fulfilling prophecy. None of the concerns I came in with – pain management, stress – were even addressed. She was too busy saving my life from my stupid fat fucking self to notice.
And the outcome of this session, apart from the angst, humiliation and the exorbitant bill? I was instructed to buy a BP monitor and undergo intensive monitoring while under this doctor’s care. Funnily enough, I didn’t go back to see her again. I did go home in a mildly hysterical state and drink myself into a stupor, and stay depressed for several days. Was this the desired effect, and was I the victim of some cruel experiment? We’ll never know, folks.
Cutting the caffeine and sugar down has mostly fixed the headaches, by the way. I have no intention of buying a BP monitor, or of seeing that particular doctor again. As soon as I felt brave enough, I rang the centre and cancelled the follow up appointments. I’m in no hurry to see any doctor any time soon, but I’ll get over it – I hope.
Part Four – In Which Our Narrator Seeks A Point To All This
Anyway, this encounter crystallised something inside me, something cold and angry. Fat acceptance isn’t just some amorphous concept to me anymore, or Something Wot Happens To Other People. The battle for my self-esteem is real and personal now. I’ve had to confront some of my old demons for the first time in a long time, and I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to handle them. Expect more mad ramblings on this topic.
To be continued…
The Lancre Witch said,
July 4, 2008 at 7:55 am
That doctor is a fucking stupid ignorant fucknuckle. I suggest writing a letter of complaint in which you explain how this incompetent woman completely failed to address your health concerns in favour of lecturing you on activities that you are already doing, and why you will be leaving their practice. Your dot points are an excellent start.
Hugs and love.
maggishness said,
July 4, 2008 at 8:42 am
*hugs to mr chas*
I am with the above commenter on the doctor thing, She was stupid, ignorant, prejudiced and really harmful, someone should be told (is there a doc ombudsman or something? I don’t know).
fred_bear said,
July 4, 2008 at 9:54 am
You can write to the ACT medical board about her fucktarded-ness as they’re the appropriate authority to report malpractice to.
Many *hugs* for you, some of which will be delivered tomorrow night in person.
Ms Rhyannon said,
July 4, 2008 at 11:05 am
I think I’ve already said what I needed to say on this topic in a certain e-mail I sent some time ago. My opinions expressed then still stand (if you can remember that far back – I’m not entirely sure I can, but I have a general kind of consoling, e-hugging kind of feeling about it…)
Me: I’m tired all the time and don’t feel well.
Doctor: That’s because you’re fat.
Diagnosis: Glandular-fucking-fever. Fuck you dickhead doctor. (And people wonder why I don’t go to the doctor any more even though I have issues requiring resolution. Except when I got shingles… but that was a rather desperate situation)
*hugs and love* I feel for you. (Not pity, just understanding as I am in a similar boat)
Random Bilby said,
July 4, 2008 at 4:48 pm
As with the others … the first step is to not simmer in silence, but to let the Medical Establishment know there’s a right way and a wrong way to provide preventative medical services, and this doctor did things The Extreeme Wrong Way. This takes your internal cold hard rage into external action, and action is better than inaction. Imagine if someone considerably more vulnerable than your fabulous self were subjected to that sort of behaviour? Not Nice.
The second step is to realise that not all doctors think like this (to the best of my knowledge, although I admit that’s limited to being the partner of a well-rounded Bloke and Cat rather than first-hand experience) and to find someone considerably more sensible and polite. Although having a Fat Cat isn’t the same as having a round waistline, I have been subjected to fairly unpleasant vet attention regarding my cat’s weight. I now pre-empt this by turning and up and saying “My cat is fat. I know she’s fat. I do not wish to enter into conversation about her weight unless it directly relates to the issue I’m discussing with you. OK?”.
The Bungendore Vet people accepted this with complete equanimity and made not a peep about the heft of my cat – not even grunting theatrically when lifting her.
Using the same technique for doctors of human health may also work. Take the initiative by saying “I’m well aware I’m rounder than you may believe healthy. I am taking active steps about it, including diet and exercise. I have some to see you about pain and headaches. Unless you believe my figure directly relates to these issues, or until I ask you for advice on that particular issue, I would be very pleased if you didn’t mention it at all. OK?”
Younger and quite older doctors seem ok with this approach. It’s the ones around 30-50 years old that I find to be intransigent with a tendency to being patronising. I found an older male doctor at the Belconnen Medical Centre who, after I thought was going to be patronising about my asthma flaring up again, actually treated me like a knowledgeable human being once I got past the interrogation …
So persist. There are decent people out there. Just that sometimes they can be harder to find … :}
Reasons To Be Cheerful « Enter The Seagoon said,
July 7, 2008 at 8:24 pm
[...] had a brief period of stardom after my latest Big Fat Rant. I had no idea I’d get an active tagback from linking to the BMI Project at Shapely Prose; [...]
Enter The Seagoon said,
July 15, 2008 at 7:46 pm
[...] Comments Jess E on Life, love and MelbourneReasons To Be Cheerf… on Big Fat Rant, Part OneRandom Bilby on Big Fat Rant, Part OneMs Rhyannon on Big Fat Rant, Part Onefred_bear on [...]
Waiting for the Aliens » Sycophants said,
July 15, 2008 at 8:54 pm
[...] to their place with a six pack, a box of condoms and a large tube of lube. But today, I was reading this. And fuck me, but it’s the most ridiculous example of sycophantic commentariat that I have [...]
Epskee said,
July 15, 2008 at 10:23 pm
okay, um, i’m not going to do the HUGS thing as so many clearly already did so and reinforced your already clearly embedded thoughts, I’m going to mention a couple of points, and hope that, as unlikely as it is, you may get past the immediate reaction of “god what a bitch” and pause to consider them?
1. Being fat truly DOES contribute to poor health and general feelings of being unwell, or simply just not physically ‘up to scratch’
2. You pointed out yourself in part two that you caused the problem, knew what you did wrong, and have only recently been taking the necessary steps to rectify the situation, and even then haven’t exactly been perfect at that either. So a) Perhaps seeing as this is relatively new progress, others cant see the results yet, and b) if you are honest, you can admit at least to yourself if not others that lazyness and making excuses was what got you into this mess in the first place, and perhaps a push is what you need, or some fire in your belly, or just a good hard look at what you wrote from an objective point of view in order to truly KNOW where you went wrong and what to do now/not to do now as the case may be?
3. and pardon my french, but ive really been holding back – perhaps a bigger problem than the fact your doctor is CRAP is the fact that you still keep going to her? If your health was really such a concern to you, and you were as you put it – one of “we educated folk” then you would have the necessary mental capacity to FIND A DOCTOR THAT ISNT CRAP.
As someone who doesn’t know you from Adam, and of course knows nothing about you, I’m sure you will simply write my comment off as ‘hate mail’ or trolling and be done with it. But take it from an impartial observer – the cause of your getting fat, being fat, staying fat, and sitting there for 20 minutes writing this is crystal clear from this side of the screen.
now all this has been said by a previously fat chick who heard that line of “all your problems are because your chubby” line from dozens of people, including many doctors. The reason I heard it from MANY is because I got up off my fat bum and sought out a doctor who was willing to see past the “fat excuse” and quick $$ from medicare, and actually do their job. Sometimes the cause IS lard, but often enough it isn’t. My headaches were nothing to do with a dire need for liposuction, or high BP, or any other McDonalds related thing. It was serious. And if untreated, deadly.
So. What are your headaches from? Or will you simply sit here and bitch about how crap she is, know that you should really get up of your size gazillion behind and do something about it, and continue to make excuses?
Dune said,
July 16, 2008 at 2:22 am
Ignore Aurelius the Alien’s post up there. My experience of him is he’s a miserable bastard devoid of humanity. One of these days he’ll remove the iron pole up his arse and then hopefully do the world a favour and curl up and die.
As for your doctor visit – sounds like she was trying what I’m sure she thought of as ‘tough love’ to shock you into doing something dramatic. My advice? Tell the silly cow that you’re not there to be lectured to, tell HER off and reclaim a bit of dignity.
Aurelius said,
July 16, 2008 at 9:23 am
Or stop drinking and do some exercise…..
Loquacity said,
July 16, 2008 at 10:02 am
Dune – Wow. Lovely. Unfortunately, reclaiming dignity probably isn’t going to help Chas’ blood pressure. The doctor probably was trying to shock poor Chas into doing something dramatic. Did it occur to you that it was probably for a very good reason (and not just because she’s a horrid cow)?
Chas – I’ve been there, and I’ve gone through what you’re going through now. The difference is that high blood pressure is reversible – a terminal disease isn’t. Stop going into denial, stop listening to the sycophants (Dune – I’m looking at you), and start listening to what the GP says. My doctor used the same shock tactics as yours, and it scared the crap out of me. Once I got over the fear and the worry, I did something about it. If you don’t like her attitude, get another doctor, but whatever you do – start getting serious. Next time you go, you might be told you have something that you *can’t* fix with a better lifestyle. And how much of an idiot will you feel then?
L
The Lancre Witch said,
July 16, 2008 at 11:08 am
Ah the lulz. Heaven forbid that anyone should believe that doctors treat fat people disrespectfully due to prejudice.
Aurelius said,
July 16, 2008 at 11:53 am
Lancre Witch,
The doctor tells Chas to exercise more and live healthier. The doctor gives him statistics to back up why she is telling him this. So you call her an ignorant fucknuckle and advise Chas to report her?
I’d pit my advice to him against yours any day of the week.
Loquacity said,
July 16, 2008 at 12:02 pm
Lancre Witch: I have no doubt that they do. And if Chas feels as though that has happened, he needs to get a second opinion. That said, Chas has pointed out that he is not well – thus why he went to the doctor in the first place. A lifestyle change may not fix all his problems (and the doctor may actually be a complete bitch – I’m not disputing either point), but it certainly can’t hurt. Oh, and thanks for the link – some interesting reading there.
Mind you, this post has been great entertainment for a day or two ;)
L
The Crab said,
July 16, 2008 at 9:04 pm
*giggle*
This is all kinda funny.
Although I must admit that it made me a little bit sad. Sad that people expect to go to a doctor and be mollycoddled. A doctor is there to give you the facts, not hugs. I just hope she didn’t give you a lollypop at the end of the appointment. That would just be hypocritical.
Random Bilby said,
July 18, 2008 at 9:49 am
People who are saying “Well, you SHOULD go out there and improve yourself; it’s the job of the doctor to help you do this” … well, yes, you’re correct.
BUT – there’s a right way and a wrong way to do it. We all know this; we’ve all been told the same thing by five people and will only accept it when it’s said in the way that helps us move forward, rather than get defensive and go backwards as a result.
Sure. Use a tactic to improve your patient’s health. But for heaven’s sake, also use your intelligence – and assume a similar amount of intelligence on the part of one’s patience. If you’re going to go trawling through your patient’s medical record, you might make note of the probable other things in there which would suggest a particular method of information delivery for the living, breathing, feeling human in front of you.
Please note that Oour Correspondent is not denying he’s on the heavy side of healthy. He’s working to improve that situation. He’s not in denial. So why does he deserve being patronised by a doctor who appears to assume the person in front of her is completely unaware of his overall health situation?
There are other doctors out there who will say probably exactly the same thing, but in such a way as to not put people off-side, and indeed be able to offer practical advice without lecturing or hectoring. And they are the people who need the patronage anyway :)
Life or something like it « Enter The Seagoon said,
July 12, 2009 at 3:20 pm
[...] finding myself a GP and getting a checkup. I’m hoping this is a more positive experience than the last time I saw a doctor. I’m also *cringe* waiting to see *twitch* a dentist. This fellow was [...]