Information Mtg. Hell

Tonight was a 90 minute information meeting in which a group of potential weight loss surgery candidates sat in a conference room and listened to remarks from our case worker, nutritionist and the exercise therapist.  As I entered the medical offices I spied two women waiting for the elevator, both overweight.  We look at each other awkwardly until someone mumbled they think we must all be going to the same place. 

Why does this make me so uncomfortable?  As I glance at the middle aged white woman, only slightly heavier than I am, and the Hispanic woman who is probably nearing 400 pounds, I feel ashamed.  Ashamed that I am heading to a weight loss clinic. Ashamed that they know I am considering weight loss surgery. But why should I be?  These people are my people.  These people are exactly the same as me....we all use food to self medicate, we all over eat, we are all self conscious in public.  So why do I feel a million miles away from these women?  Is it because we all belong to a club that nobody wants to belong to?  A lifestyle where something, in our case food, has so completely taken over your life, your will power and your habits that you are seriously considering cutting your stomach open and re-sewing it into a pouch the size of an egg.

It's humiliating.

Upon entering the meeting I take a seat, determined to be cheerful and outgoing, but the women seated at my table are as seemingly uncomfortable as I am.  One is thin (a supporter I assume), one is about my size and the final is so large she is seated in a wheelchair, unable to even walk under the strain of her own weight.  It's hard not to imagine that kind of life.  As embarrassed and self conscious as I might ever be in public, could it get more humiliating than not just being considered obese, but being considered technically handicapped by it?  I feel for her.

First up is our case worker, Lauren. I met her at my last appointment and I am once again put at ease by her easy manner and openness.  She quickly sets up the night's speeches and turns the floor over to a nutritionist.

However, when Ms. Nutrition begins her power point presentation, my warm-fuzzies dissolve as she begins speaking to our collective group as if we are young children.  Remember that last month we all attended the same information seminar where we were walked through every step of Gastric Bypass and Gastric Banding surgeries?  However, Ms. Nutrition brings up a graphic of a stomach being re-routed to the intestines and asks the audience if anyone can sum up what Gastric Bypass is.  There is a stony silence. I feel the motivation drain from me as I realize that the following presentation is going to be a rather dumbed down rehashing of what has already been thoroughly explained.  At this point I check out mentally.  My chipped nail polish, my green pen, my new purse...all captivate my wandering thoughts. 

After a mind numbing 40 minutes in which Ms. Nutrition walks us through Gastric Bypass as if we are children, our new Exercise Guy stands up and begins his talk.  He is a young, energetic, good looking 30-something.  I note that everyone I have seen in this office is incredibly thin and fit.  This is aspirational, I suppose, but at this moment I find it mildly annoying.  As Jeff begins his schpeal I cannot help but wonder....can these thin, fit, healthy people possibly understand what we, the fatties in the room, feel?  When Jeff begins extolling the virtues of stretching before exercise I wonder if he realizes that likely no one in this room has even thought about exercising in years.  In fact we have avoided it at all costs.  I know I have.  Stretching? Rotating between weight training and cardio?  These phrases are not in our vocabulary.  You don't end up at a Gastric Bypass meeting because you live to push through the last 5 minutes of a spinning class.

Jeff drones on in a similarly youthful approach to the topic.  Again, I zone out.  But this time I begin to think about what I am going to grab for dinner after this meeting.  And sadly, the predominant thought is an order of Mozzarella Cheese Sticks from Sonic. 

Maybe this meeting is not effecting me the way it should...probably due to my bad attitude. 

When we are excused I bolt for the door and wait for the elevator next to two more potential patients.  One mentions that we probably should have taken the stairs down to get in some exercise and we all chuckle.