The Irony of Shame


This was not supposed to post until I finished.  Hahaha!  Oh well.  this is part II instead of one

I have been working on this post for days. The impact of what I am about to write was huge for me. There is nothing quite like the veil of blindness lifted from the eyes. Once again there is hope, where there was no hope. It stems from going to the dreaded doctor.

I did not want to go to the doctor. Why? Because I have gained weight–yet again. I was ashamed.

I could not bear one more time a doctor, looking down their nose, then, breathing deeply to inform me of the obvious–I have gained weight. Shaking their head and talking to me as if I have the IQ of a raisin–telling me how I needed to do this or I needed to do that–before even listening to what I have to say. It is OBVIOUS to them, that I do not care for myself or my health, or I would do something about this simple-to-repair-problem–in their eyes and so many others–I am worthy of shame.  

I listen to them, even though, I know most of what they are telling me by heart. I don’t understand why simple science and math do not work for me–again shame. They will tell me over and over how simple it is … They let me know that I am the only obstacle in my path … or am i? I cannot bear these constant repetitive statements of non-fact regarding how my body works–but you know I am a NON-person, because I am obese. Sigh … 

Nor can I bear to listen, yet again, to them run down the fear-factory scare tactics to get me motivated to LOSE weight. Because OBVIOUSLY I am NOT working on losing weight–evidenced by the fact that I am FAT. The push and they scold, because it is important for my health–and I am OBVIOUSLY NOT listening. I know it isn’t possible that I could be working only weight loss and having some strange difficulty. I don’t need their shame and condemnation. I need help. I already understand the dangers. Many times, in the Past, my doctors believed I needed to be awakened …. you know … because I am FAT after all … you can imagine all the cliches. Honestly, they made me doubt what I know is the truth. BUT … I tell you their need to make me feel like a stupid non-concerned idiot are completely unnecessary. I am already there.

Thankfully, not all docs have been this horrid, but the fear is always there … it almost stopped me from going to UAB a few years ago when I lost 107 pounds. I was utterly terrified to go and face new Doctors, but I had a friend going with me and that helped a LOT. All those docs moved away … and now it is all new people AGAIN. I HATE NEW, when it comes to Docs.  

  What ifs ran through my head as I bristled up to face another lab report with this doctor. I knew I didn’t want big changes, but this was only the second time I had met with this woman–she did not know me yet. She didn’t know how I behave or how active I am. I had to prove it all over again. I died a little inside.

  What if:

  • She tells me that I ate too much–would I listen?
  • She tells me that I have to change this med or that med?
  • What if she doesn’t believe what I have to tell her?

I am sure there are many more questions that popped in my head, but the bottom line is I was ashamed of my weight … it is a badge of failure. I was ashamed that I was obese again. I was weary–worried that I really did not have what it might take to battle this again. I have been through this with many doctors and some have the bedside manner of a dominatrix and their goal in life is to break your will and emotion. They feel justified–obligated even–in ripping me apart, because it is for the good of my life and all.

I walked in with Mikey by my side. With fear and trembling. Not looking forward to what she was going to say. Wondering if I would find mercy or judgment. I did not expect what I found.

To be continued …. I promise I will post tomorrow about this. I already have it loaded to go.

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