Doctors are MESSING with my head

Doctors are mean. They are tag-teaming me and playing mind games.

I have to start with an update. I’ve gained back half of what I lost on the (almost) year-long Jenny The Bitch Whore Craig diet. The good news is that I didn’t lose that much, so I’ve only gained back about seven pounds.

So, last Thursday I was in the neuropsychiatrist’s office, and the subject of my weight came up. I told him I was fat but happy. I said, the way I see it I’m like a dromedary, using my fat as a Celexa-storage system until the day I become crazy again and my fat spontaneously dissolves in order to release all the built-up antidepressant.

I refrained from clutching my breasts as I said the word “dromedary,” so he took me seriously.

“Ooooh,” he said, “We have something that can help with that.” And then he wrote me a prescription for Xenical, one of those mythical fantasy drugs that absorbs fat. (Yes, they make those now.) My first thought was “My GOD — how fat AM I?”

I hesitantly took the prescription. and we discussed how the stuff works. Evidently only half of its power is its ability to absorb fat, the other half is in the deterrent factor. Evidently if too much fat leaves ones body unabsorbed it results in Irritable Bowel Syndrome, which always sounds to me like Sarcastic Tongue Syndrome that spread to the bowels.

“Oh,” I said, “it’s like Antabuse for food.”
“Well, sort of. Take the prescription, think about it, and consult with your GP first.”

It scared me enough that I did consult via e-mail with my doctor, who e-mailed back, “It is likely to wreak havoc with your system.” … So…that’s a no, I guess. (Of course, he feels coffee, tea, soda, alcohol, and any other “strong drink” wreaks havoc. Mormons. They’re everywhere.)

Mean doctors. It’s like my doctors are playing “Keep Away” with the drugs.