Oh No! FAT!

There's an obesity epidemic in the western world! Our overfed under-motivated sedentary lives are making us all fat! What can we do? What shall we do?

First, panic, and run screaming to buy up every diet book you can find and of course the must have "Lazy Person's Way to Exercise Without Doing Anything."

When reading and eating three or four lo-cal cakes instead of one (real) cake doesn't work, we can then go online and sign up and join in on mailing lists, guide blogs, support groups, "Your Diet Plan", and sit a little longer in yet another chair.

Next, go to the doctor and get pills that will make sure you exercise because you will have to run every time you need to go to the bathroom -- and that will be often!

Watch television programs like "The Biggest Loser."
Or even the race and survival shows and smirk at those who fail at feats when you can't tie your own shoes without panting. Not to mention the way that race to the toilet leaves you gasping.

Or, better yet, why don't we all quit pointing at other people, quit blaming this or that, quit eating super-size when large is more than enough.

Let's put down the phones and tablets, turn off the television and the computer, and go outside. Take a walk around the yard. (Maybe even push a mower instead of riding one while sitting on our fat asses.) If we have time to do it on a machine, we have time to do it for real.

Throwing worry and money at the obesity problem will not solve it.
Giving money away to publishers, to pharmaceuticals, to doctors, to manufacturers will not help.
If walking uphill is your exercise of choice, you can probably find one to walk up. The cost is nothing, the benefir is priceless. And the only people the process enriches is you and your loved ones.

Listen to the Folks.

The FDA has approved two new drugs for weight loss. They are supposed to work well with diet and exercise. Of course, this is NOT for the morbidly obese. If they are that fat, they had better have bariatric surgery before doing anything. (Ka-ching, Ka-ching! Anyone else hear that?)

Now, I had a couple of different reactions to this. According to my doctors and the doctors of everyone I know, the way to lose weight is "diet and exercise."Nothing else. Oh, if you have metabolism issues, they'll prescribe stuff to help with those, but you want to lose weight -- Diet and exercise. And if you don't lose weight, you aren't dieting or exercising. Never mind Tuesday's heat stroke or Friday's collapse -- if you aren't losing weight, you aren't exercising or dieting. Not even if your stomach is complaining loudly because of its emptiness.

There's a lot of things going on in obesity studies and research, and a lot of it is good. A drug or two that will kick start a dieter over a plateau isn't a bad thing. Bariatric surgery for someone who eats until too full is a good thing. It's not going to help much with someone who doesn't eat all that much to start with. Or a grazer.

Until doctors and nutritionists are able to look beyond this whole "Diet and Exercise" combo, they are not going to make any great inroads in battling the obesity "epidemic'.

The old folks had it right. Some folks are born to be fat. It's in their genes. No, that's not just an excuse. (There have been some intriguing research and discoveries into fat genes.) It's not a stereotype, either. Lately research is finding all sorts of things more prevalent among certain ethnicities, even when environment is not a factor.

Treat the genetic type, and how that body works, and you'll be abler to manage the weight.

One concern that's twinned with the obesity concern is that it is the cause or related to diabetes. There is a connection, but the scientists are so wrapped up in finding a cure (or ongoing treatments; much more profitable) that they are ignoring, once again, folk wisdom.

Diabetes is caused by lack of insulin, which the body (is supposed to) produce(s) in the pancreas. That has been the scientific wisdom for just shy of a century.

What if that's wrong?
What if, instead of producing insulin, the pancreas -- still very much a mystery organ -- stores it? What if, like the ovaries, the human body comes with a measured amount of insulin or the base ingredients to turn (stuff) into insulin? What if our modern refined diet is just using up a lifetime supply in a few years?

The old folk used to tell kids not to eat so many sweets or they'd end up with sugar in their blood.
Science came along and said that's silly, that's not how it works. So everyone eats refined sugars and uses up all their insulin and -- voila -- sugar in their blood at a young age.

Insulin is playing a role in the diet/exercise dilemma as well. No one is sure exactly how that all factors together, but they've discovered things like insulin resistance and glucose intolerance and gluco-this and glycemic-that. If they look, they'll probably be able to relate that to ethnic origins -- genetics.

If they look.

But they won't, or very few will. They'll continue to preach "Diet and Exercise" until they've killed all the people they haven't operated on. And maybe even those. Much easier to follow the party line, blame the patient, than take time to know the patient and actually help them.

The old folks had it right all along.
As usual.
That family is  usually fat, and if you eat too much sugar while you're young, you'll end up with sugar in your blood.

Listen to your parents and grandparents, if it's only in your memory. They knew your body and background before doctors knew anything.

Fear of Phobia

I'm becoming, I'm afraid, a borderline agoraphobic.
No, I have become a borderline agoraphobic.
The becoming I'm worried about is the full blown phobia.

I don't think that will ever happen. I have too many chores and a granddaughter. That should be enough to keep me getting out on a fairly regular basis. And there are doctor's visits for my husband, and going to the pharmacy, and grocery shopping.

Those things should all keep me going, keep me out and about. I'm not so sure they will. Even if they do, I'm not sure that some of those things count. I don't enjoy them. I don't relish going to Walmart after prescriptions. I don't stop at this store or that and peek and poke and just enjoy myself, just enjoy getting out, even though God knows I rarely get alone time except in the car. Maybe alone time isn't really that important, anyway. I can always be alone inside myself. Inside my computer, or lost in a book. (That's not really alone, though. There are people in those books, and some of them are stupider than the ones in real life. Who'd've ever thought that was possible?)

In some ways, I feel I've been heading that way -- this way -- for all my life. I've never been able to easily or naturally speak to other people, sometimes not even those I know well. I have had my electricity and my water shut off because I was unable to make the telephone calls to make arrangements to pay. (Many years ago; not recently.)

But now I leave reluctantly. Not even my writers group holds the same interest for me, because my life has so changed. For a year I had limited contact with the real world.
I had no telephone and no internet. Because of Rex's hospitalization, and his doctor's and medicines, and having to pay other people gas money, the bills got way behind. So there was little talking with anyone, except when I needed something. That doesn't encourage socializing from either party involved. At least I didn't feel that it did. .

No car -- I had to get rides, or arrange rides, everywhere and anywhere. Few trips were worth the trouble. My writer friends were the ones with the most available help, but my sisters were always there also. The writers happen to live and work closer.
But even with their help, I was isolated and alone, and there's too much to handle alone, but I did it.



I did it all, from the safety net of my home.

I'm afraid, often. I'm afraid to leave because I worry about Rex getting sick or falling when I'm gone. Some nights I can't sleep, because I'm afraid I'll wake up and he won't be breathing. I'm afraid to drive anywhere, because what if I'm involved in an accident and get hurt? What will happen to Rex when someone else brings him that kind of news? Who will take care of him while I can't?
My God, what if I get crippled?
What will happen to Rex if I get killed?

Rex, bless his heart, encourages me to go to my group, and to go to family events, if he knows about them. I usually don't tell him, because he won't /can't go. And I don't want to leave him alone for hours at a time. All the what-ifs come alive when that happens.

I can't let this progress. It must not be allowed to get any worse. Even I cannot live that self-contained. There are chores that must be done, errands that must be run. And what kind of example am I setting for Hailey if I turn myself into the Hermit Grandmother? It's bad enough that Pappaw is already that way.

Thank goodness for summer, for the season of picnics and reunions and weddings. Thank God for sisters and friends and other family who will coax me or bully me out of my little blue hole. They, more than anything I can do, are what keeps me straight, keeps me trying. Keeps me on the sane side of the line,

I can thank none of them enough. Ever.

Calling All Offices

Another excursion into the telephoning of the doctors' offices. This time to renew one of my husband's prescriptions. Who knew that it could be such an adventure?

First of all, the advisory that if this is an emergency to hang up and call 911. Think I'm safe there. He still has medicine. I'm calling so he won't run out, not because he has.

A few 'push 1's, and I am at the pharmacy line. Found that confusing at first, since I have a pharmacy. I don't need theirs. It's really too far from home for me. But I guess it was the pharmacy call-out number.

I was advised that if I needed to have a prescription refilled, I was to leave 1) Name 2) birthdate 3) name of medicine 4) dosage 5) name of pharmacy 6) pharmacy phone number 7)my phone number. And a partridge in a pear tree. With its shoe size.

The pesky thing about this is that if I had been talking to a REAL PERSON it wouldn't have taken half the time. They have all that information already, because I had a problem before with the pharmacy and the doctor's office had to call and straighten out the matter.

Name: Operator keys into computer.
Birthdate: Operator ascertains the correct patient of that name.
Meds needed: she reads off list and asks
Pharmacy: Still at ???, # on file,
My #: on file.

Instead, a patient has to read unpronounceable pharmaceutical names, a mish mash of numbers, and hope that they are comprehensible.

Is it really asking too much to have a person handling drug orders? If it is too busy to speak when the call comes in, can't someone just do callbacks to the patient later? Isn't someone going to check the records anyway?

How many people have been put at risk because of this system with its laundry list of things to be left as a message? What if the patient misreads the dosage? What if the name of the drug sounds like the name of another drug?

It worked for me, and it works for most people, I suppose. They probably wouldn't do it if it wasn't effective. But it's cumbersome and time-consuming, and there is a risk of misunderstanding. That worries me.

It should worry them.