Thanks, Doc.

Yesterday I went home from the doctor’s with a wide smile on my face and a feeling of accomplished world conquest in my chest. This doctor’s visit was well worth its 20 Shekels and the 30 minute walk because apparently, the practice was not “just next to the mall” after all.

I went to see endocrinologist Dr. B. because I was starting to suspect my thyroid to be behind my body’s refusal to shed those pounds. Thanks to radical self acceptance activists’ sites like The Militant Baker or The Body is not an Apology, and the realization that all women, no matter what their weight, are raised to feel some kind of insecurity, I had already not just made peace with, but learned to love my body. Which changed not only my perception of my body, but of everything around it, too.
But I still want to know why I had to miss out on everything for hating my body for so long. Just ,why. After all, a gastric bypass did nothing, atkins combined with extreme gym-hitting and daily hours of swimming did nothing, a month-long attempt at pro-ana did nothing, nothing did anything. I only lose weight when I’m not even trying to, and shoveling McDonald’s, Snickers, and coke for lack of time to cook. Yet my body has, for the last 12 years or more, kept returning to the same weight over and over. So, why?
After I’d ordered eltroxin off eBay to see how my thyroid responds, and finding that I lost a bit of weight and felt better overall, I took these findings and my questions to Dr. B. A doctor who is among the rare gems of doctors who don’t dump all of your health problems on your weight, or dismiss them to tell you to get skinny instead. Because that attitude is an atrocity. “Doc, I have mood swings and suicidal thoughts that terrify me.” – “Yeah but first, here’s a referral to a dietitian.”… “I can’t turn my neck without excrucia–” – “What have you tried in terms of weightloss?”… “Doctor, please check my pelvis and hormones, I’m just not getting pregnant.” – “Lose the weight and you will.”… “Doctor, I suffer from migraine and falling asleep uncontrollably.” – “Yes, and here’s the card of a dietitian so we can make you look a little more appetizing.” (the latter were the exact words of the school doctor, a woman no less, when I was 14, and I think her head needs to roll for crushing what little self-love is left in an insecure fat teenage girl, with her choice of words).

Dr. B however, took a good look at my blood work, my med history, and at me, and said: “Nope, your thyroid is normal.” After several questions, answers, and theories, Dr. B said what all those “I bash fatties because they’re unhealthy” people out there should let sink in deep:

“Though, look. I’ve seen your bloodwork and your medical history. I’m looking at you. You’re not at any risk, your stats are good. You are what’s called healthy obese. You don’t need to lose weight.”

Oh yes.

Fellgood Bullcrap

I recently read this phrase a lot on Facebook:

“I’m not fat. When he created me, God just liked me so much that he decided to enlarge me.”

Right. At first glance, that sounds sweet and comforting. Then again, if God really loves me, why doesn’t he design me in a way that makes me desirable and keeps me from getting bullied, overlooked, sneered and scoffed on, and hated on by society and media?