DOCTORS

Monday I had a double-doctor-day - with the rarely seen GP in the afternoon. I go every couple years to keep the "relationship" alive - in case I get an ear infection or something.  This  GP - I "date" only for her prescription pad on which I tell her what to write.  It's never anything exotic or potentially recreational,  so she compiles.
Last time I visited her, I was about 70 pounds heavier. I guess I deserve an "A-ta-girl".
Not forthcoming.

As soon as I mention no carbs (No-carbs is the soft, politically-correct way of saying "Atkins" to MD's  - the name makes most react like Medusa).  It's fair. She's just person, not a god,  who feels a little miffed that I ignored her non-existent advice (eat less and get some exercise LOL) and I had the gaul to do OK anyway.
It pisses me off.  But I get it.

Thank goodness I have no qualms about  ignoring her advice -  I should probably just lie to her, say "yes, yes" and do what I want. I occasionally feel compelled to make an argument.  Foolish, I know - I just don't like lying to my doctor. I am paying her, why should I lie to please or placate her?

Once again we had to run through the "I don't do mammograms" thing.  (I usually turn out to be right about these things BTW.  Jot it down,  time will vindicate my position).

So it used to go like this:
1. it seems stupid to continually shoot radiation at something you are trying to prevent cancer in. If the tech has to wear a lead blanket, there is a significant amount of radiation, or hey, if it is so safe, lose the blanket "boys".
2. No statistics show any improved survivability in those who had mammograms versus not.  (True, you can look it up Harvard).
3. Somewhere between 40-60% of cells identified as breast cancer (or "pre-cancer", WTF?) are encapsulated and would never spread.  Since they can't tell them from the bad boys, they treat them the same.   That is reasonable until they can find the DNA markers to be sure. BUT in the mean time,   they should AT LEAST back those numbers out of their "treatment success" statistics.  If 40% weren't actually sick,  you can't fairly count them as "cured".
4. I think they have cancer mostly wrong. I say think "virus".

I think in 100 years people will scoff and say "do you believe what doctors used to do to cancer patients"?   Like "bleeding" and its great success rate in curing the fever... I am sure they had statistics and maybe even charts.

That was then, now I have finally distilled my answer to  "why would I go do your test when I would never act on or value the results?" It is a conversation stopper.

HBO spews about fat people

HBO's new 4 part documentary targeting the problem of obesity called the Weight of a Nation premiered this past week. This isn't a review because I didn't watch it.

I surmise the series makes the point that Americans are too fat, and it is BAD for us. We eat junk food, don't exercise, and sit around watching HBO.  Really? NO! What a fucking revelation!

As a nation we have been non-stop dieting for 40 years and since we are way fatter than when we started,  what do they suggest we do?

Maybe everyone with a BMI over 27 should just have our bowels cut out? Or maybe the Almighty Government should lock our heads in a iron mask until we are no longer such a fat national threat.
There are fat-phobics out there and you know who you are - I bet they like the sound of those ideas.
Next it will be a "war on obesity" - I bet that will work about as well as the "war on drugs".

To media types and the Washington politicos:  Just beware how you arouse the sleeping giant.
 If fat is an epidemic, and more than 1/3 of all Americans are obese and another 1/3 are overweight, (thank goodness my fat head can still do math), then that would make us ... a majority.  With the right amount of defamation,  and the resulting anger,  fat people could muster their self-esteem, unite and transform into a political force. The thought brings me much joy.

Forget Independents and swing states, they better start worrying about how to get the fat vote. 
Wouldn't that be sweet?

Advice comes from the most sadistic places...

Doctor - I have WHAT??????

So I went to a new doctor yesterday - an MD, with rather impressive credentials - including a blog I enjoy very much.
I went to see him about my weight. Even though I am quite pleased to be down about 70 pounds, I am now out of Meridia (supply dried up 2 weeks ago and now it is off the market).  I noticed my thoughts about food were no longer being restrained by my pharma-arsenal. One morning, as I was innocently walking the dog past Amy's Bread and -BONG- there is this CAKE in the window.  Yellow. Brown sugar icing.  It actually vibrated. Vibrated.  I smell Trouble. Coming. Fast.

We begin as I quickly recite my sordid dieting, losing/gaining history, expounding along the way my theories of physiological and genetic causes of overweight, and it ended up feeling like I was talking to someone that might be a real-deal expert in this field. At least he wasn't going to tell me to "eat less and maybe get some exercise",  (the medical equivalent of a pat on the head).

Same day I go to file the insurance claim - at $6.11 a minute I wasn't holding the paper for long on this one, and I see a diagnosis code. Gotta have one of those...In my arrogance I am saying to myself:

"Gee, I wonder what he put down, since I don't really have anything"
"Hummm... 307.51"
"Let me look that up"
click click click google click click
"Bulimia Nervosa"


WTF???? I never puked in my life!

Welcome!

I realized I have a lot to say about my experience swimming in the FAT end of the gene pool.

And I bet you do too!