Saturday, January 28, 2006

bugs in your food

This is fun:

FDA: You're eating crushed bug juice

Not that I didn't know all kinds of nasty things are in food. Like the allowable number of insect parts in black pepper, for instance. I think it's called the acceptable filth level, or something like that. But this is a labeling issue, not a contaimination issue. Highlights:

That ice cream you're eating or the lipstick you're wearing just might contain extract from crushed bugs. On purpose.
The Food and Drug Administration proposed Friday requiring food and cosmetic labels to list cochineal extract or carmine if a product's ingredients include either of the two red colorings that have been extracted from the ground bodies of an insect known since the time of the Aztecs.

I like the Aztecs. They built cool pyramids. They cut the hearts out of living prisoners and then dined on their roasted thighs. (I bet none of THEM were fat--something to think about). AND they gave us chocolate, vanilla, tomatoes, and I forget what else. Good people, those Aztecs. Too bad the damn Spaniards wiped them off the face of the earth.

To skip ahead in the article:

The widespread use of the dyes in everything from yogurt to lipstick hasn't exactly been well-disclosed: The ingredients typically are listed as "color added" or "E120," the FDA said.

Carmine puts the red in ice cream, strawberry milk, fake crab and lobster, fruit cocktail cherries, port wine cheese, lumpfish eggs and liqueurs....Carmine is also used in lipstick, makeup base, eye shadow, eyeliners, nail polishes and baby products, the agency said. Meanwhile, cochineal extract shows up in fruit drinks, candy, yogurt and some processed foods.

Well, now you know. Your lovely new pick lipstick? Dead bugs. Strawberry yogurt? Dead bugs. Neopolitan ice cream? Dead bugs. Fake crab and lobster? well, even it it was real it would be dead bugs, so what's the conflict there?? Lumpfish eggs? Anyone who eats something called "lumpfish eggs" deserves everything they get.

And in a tiny aside at the bottom of the article they casually mention that bug dye is also in your prescription drugs.

Have a nice day!

Forbes magazine kindly tells us how we get fat

I hate this shit. I am an extremely intelligent (143 IQ) adult. I don't need to be told how I managed to get myself into this shape.
Anyway, they have a cutesy little slide show (gag). here's the headline/highlights:
1. Drinking anything except water.
2. We don't walk anywhere.
3. Genetics
4. Getting old
5. Eating junk food
6. Eating too many calories
7. Eating out in restaurants
8. Drinking too much alcohol
9. Not reading food labels
10. No exercise
11. Getting pregnant
12. Stress

Just for fun, I'm going to refute some of these.
#1. So milk and oj and real fruit juices are bad?
#2. I live in a small town. Not all the streets have sidewalks. I've walked plenty in this town, and trust me, cars don't care if there's a person walking on the side of the road. They'll sideswipe you or come close enough to make you squirt your shorts.
#3. Genetics. Well, can't say much there.
#4. Hey, I'm not old. I'm not even 40.
#5 Okay, the junk food one is probably right. I'll concede that one too.
#6. Eating too many calories. This is one of the insulting ones. Not going there.
#7. Eating in restuarants. You don't have to finish the whole thing. You don't have to slop disgusting high-calorie sauces and dressings over everything. I was out with someone the other day who ordered a perfectly nice salad (well, minus the lettuce, I hate lettuce), being all virtuous because they ordered a SALAD and then get extra dressing (one of the really oily ones) and dumped it all over these crispy yummy healthful veggies. This is a person who religiously cuts fat off meat before eating it, but then will drink the grease-laden salad dressing out of the bowl if no one's looking. This is what makes people fat, not just eating in a restaurant.
#8. Personally, I rarely drink alcohol so this doesn't apply to me. It applies to a lot of people that I know, however.
#9. Food label? Food comes with labels?
#10. You all know I exercise 4 hours a week and I'm still a freaking blimp.
#11. Never been pregnant, never will be.
#12. Stress. Nothing more stressful than being a big fat fuck, is there?

.....and finally, what the hell does Forbes magazine know about diet, nutrition, weight gain or weight loss? I don't go to the fat doctor to learn how to invest and I don't go to Forbes magazine to learn how to lose weight.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

scheduled eating experiment

I had my 3d appointment with the new therapist last night. She gave me a lovely mandala drawing. She also suggested that I try something: to schedule my food in advance for 1 day and see how I feel about it. Not that it has to be food I don't like, or anything special or different. Just to plan it in advance.
So I did, I planned today.

  • Breakfast: tea and english muffin
  • Lunch: soup, peanut butter and crackers
  • Dinner: stuffed pepper (brown rice, bell peppers, hamburger, sauce)
  • At least one snack of protien pudding

Breakfast feelings: I felt very rushed for time. I often don't eat breakfast. I was a little resentful that I had to stop what I was doing to eat breakfast. It made me late for work. I didn't finish my tea, but I did eat the whole english muffin
Lunch feelings: I was trapped in the office. Of course the phone rang and they expected me to answer it because I was there, and there was some passive-agressiveness when the query of "are you going to get that?" was met with my "I'm at lunch." (Especially when I had already ANNOUNCED that I was on break, and even went to sit in the other room to eat to make it very clear I was not working.) You know, a loud sigh and "I guess I'll get it then" --let the fucking machine get it, that's what you'd do if I wasn't physically in the office. I did enjoy my soup. I ate less crackers than I thought I would. I think only four or five.
Dinner feelings: I am still eating dinner right now. I haven't got any particular feelings about it. I'm writing this, reading two books and watching The Forensics Files while I eat. I know that reading and watching TV while eating are both bad, but I don't feel like tackling that whole issue today. The stuffed pepper, which I made last night so it could ripen overnight (the ONLY thing I will eat as a leftover besides pizza), is yummy. Could have used more green pepper but I was almost out.
Snack feelings: I had my snack around 2:15. I stood in front of the work fridge and crammed three spoonfuls of pudding into my maw and washed them down with a half bottle of water. I didn't enjoy it. Again, like breakfast, I felt coerced. But it didn't make me late or anything.

So I'm not sure what the therapist was looking for. I think if someone else had planned the meals for me, my reaction might have been a lot different.

new fat joke going around

I've gotten this emailed to me by a couple of people. It's cute.

We all get heavier as we get older because there's a lot more information in our heads. So I'm not fat, I'm just really intelligent and my head couldn't hold any more so it started filling up the rest of me! That's my story and I'm sticking to it!

I think it's interesting that it's a POSITIVE fat joke--it's not mocking fatties, it's making a funny excuse for weight gain. So your thought isn't "oh gross a fat person" but "oh, a funny person."

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

sleep apnea theory

I stopped using my CPAP machine.
I didn't feel any different. I hated the mask. I told them not to give me that huge bulky mask and they did anyway, and then said my insurance wouldn't pay for a second mask. Then they got me a second mask after I complained mightily, and it was a little better, but I still didn't like it.
I always took it off in my sleep. Every night. When I told the doctor I was only wearing it about 3 hours a night (if that) she said that wasn't enough. Well how can I stop myself from doing something in my sleep?
Then I bought a new mattress, and what a difference. I felt the difference everyone said I'd get from the CPAP from the mattress. Our old mattress was, well, OLD. Lumpy. The springs stuck through and felt like a layer of sharp crumbs under my body.
I still move a lot in my sleep, but then again I always have. I woke up this morning and my jaw hurt a little. I've noticed that when I don't move a lot during the night, that I get pains in whatever part of my body was supporting a lot of my weight--my shoulder or arm, my hip, my knee. In this case I was curled at an awkward angle and putting pressure on my jaw.
So here's my theory.
I wake because part of me is hurting from being lain on, and I move to dispell the pain. That's it, pure and simple. So no stupid mask will help me. In fact the mask makes it worse because my nose is connected by a coil to the side of the bed and it limits the ways I can sleep.
On two side notes:
I tried for several hours yesterday to make an appointment with the nutritionist, just in case I have to do the 6 months with her, and I couldn't get through to the office on the phone. I sent an email and still haven't gotten a response.
I am thinking that maybe I'll see if my regular doctor will put me on Redux (phentermine) again if the surgery doesn't go through again. I did lose some weight on it before--I think around 50 lbs--that would help a lot. And I wasn't excerising back then like I was now. It's a thought.

Monday, January 23, 2006

response to a comment--how I pay my bills

Someone asked me how I pay my bills.
I have a job. I have several jobs. I work at a magazine--I am an editor, and I also do the web site's articles, and oversee the layout of both web and print. It's only part time but it gets me out of the house.
I am also an aquisitions editor at a publishing house--basically that means I read their slush pile and write reports on the books submitted. If I am really into a book and it gets accepted, I might get to edit it. It's a work-from-home type thing.
I also sell products--you know, I come to your house and do demonstration parties. Like Tupperware, pampered chef, etc. (but neither of those).
My husband has a job also. He is not morbidly obese like me. He is also going to college for another degree, as am I.
I'm not sure that I understand your comment about my future being mental. Maybe you can write again, and this time leave a way for me to answer you privately?

prescription weight loss over the counter-orlistat

I have never taken orlistat. The only prescription weight loss drug I ever took was phentermine (speed) and it worked for a few months, then stopped, then I gained all the weight back.

I see on and other online news reports that they are trying to get orlistat to be an over the counter drug now:

In six-month clinical trials, obese people who took orlistat lost on average 5.3 pounds to 6.2 pounds more than did those who were given dummy pills. Glaxo wants people to use the pill for only six months at a time, but as an over-the-counter item, its use could not be policed.

The pill's effect ends once its use is stopped, said Dr. Julie Golden, a medical officer in the FDA's division of metabolism and endocrinology products. A previous study showed a progressive weight gain in patients after they stopped using orlistat, Golden said.

Duh, of course. that's how ALL diet pills work.
Anyway, the side effects are the best part of this pill. According to

Stop taking orlistat and seek emergency medical attention if you experience a rare allergic reaction including shortness of breath; closing of your throat; swelling of your lips, tongue, or face; or hives.

Other, less serious side effects are more likely to occur. Continue to take orlistat and talk to your doctor if you experience
· oily spotting;
· oily or fatty stools;
· orange or brown colored oil in your stool;
· gas with discharge, an oily discharge;
· an urgent need to go to the bathroom;
· an inability to control bowel movements, or;
· an increased number of bowel movements.

Okay. Let's make sure I understand this correctly. If my tongue doesn't swell and block my throat, I might be leaking oil from my butt and/or shitting my pants. With orange oily shit.
I wonder what it smells like?

bullshit theory of weight loss

This gem is from

Doctor: Limiting flavors limits weight

Researcher says body must register full for all flavors it eats

CHICAGO, Illinois (AP) -- Forget counting carbs and calories. Obesity researcher Dr. David Katz says the way to lose weight is to limit flavors.

Katz, director of Yale University's Prevention Research Center, says people stop eating when the brain's appetite center registers "full." But eating lots of flavors promotes overeating because different sensors must register full for appetite to subside, Katz says.

The typical American diet "is a mad cacophony of flavors," Katz said this week during a book-tour stop in Chicago.

Instead, Katz advocates flavor-themed meals -- an apple day, for example, or a sesame day, even an occasional chocolate day.

(continues on in the same vein for half a page)

This is such bullshit. If such a diet worked, I'd be thin. The main complaint my dietician and shrink have is the small number of foods that I eat, and that I eat the same foods every day. Just about every day is "chicken day" for me. Or, rather, "chicken and potatoes" (sometimes--sometimes I have my chicken as fajitas).

a "sub clinicial binger" no more!

I went to see the dreaded Dr D on Friday--the one who rejected me for my surgery for having a "sub clinicial bingeing disorder" last year. I was only in her office maybe 40 minutes--she didn't take me on time and when I left it was only 2:45 and my appointment was at 2:00--she basically went over all her notes and asked me things like "when's the last time you ate oreo cookies?" ("I don't know"--which is true, but that doesn't mean I'll never eat them again!) and "what sources of protein are you eating?" I told her about my working out, but that I hadn't lost any real weight from it, just inches. At the end she said she would have no reservations about approving me this time, EXCEPT for the stupid requirements of the insurance company.
Damn it. It's always something, isn't it?

Thursday, January 19, 2006

I'm fat, fat, fat

I'm ready to chuck working out.
I weighed myself this morning. The other day I estimated I weighed 340, since last time I weighed myself I was at 350 and I've been working out like a fiend. And I'm down 2 sizes.
355 this morning.
I am full of hate.
I cannot break free of this 350-360 range no matter what I do.
I am frantic and desperate and so unhappy.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

my most recent bout of therapy

I saw my new therapist for the 2nd time last night & told her the URL of this blog so she might be listening in. Shh. Be very, very quiet. We're hunting wabbits.
Anyway, we discussed a dream I had right after I saw her last. I thought it was about fathers and walking away from responsiblity. She said it was about bringing together the fractured pieces of myself and getting them to work as a team, and to accept all the parts of me. Which I thought I was pretty good at. It' s only my physical body I can't accept.
Or maybe I can.
This morning I was in my underwear in my spare bedroom (library/office/junk room) searching for a book which a friend wants to borrow. This room has a mirror on the wall behind the door. It's not a true "full length" mirror; it's only about 4 feet high. I had the door shut to keep my cats out (they like to pee in there for some reason) and so I was exposed to the mirror. Instead of running away in terror, I turned sideways and looked.
Okay, I am not skinny.
But it seems to me that my stomach is not nearly as large as it used to be. It's still huge, still hangs a little over my pubes, and my ass still sticks out an equal amount in back. But that amount is smaller. I'm still as thick as I am wide, but dare I to say that I'm not as wide either?
I feel like my arms hang straight down now, they are not out to the side because of my hips.
Maybe it's wishful thinking. Or more of my body disphoria.

NYTimes article --free weight loss surgery in Italy

I have a paper copy of this. Not sure if the link requires registration or subscription.
Europeans Find Extra Option for Staying Slim is the title, and it was on the Health & Fitness page f7 + f10 on January 3, 2006
I'm not going to type the whole thing--it's kind of long. My new therapist cut it out for me. Just that action tells me volumes.
They detail a woman who lost 77 lbs in 6 months with a new procedure, which is having a balloon inflated in the stomach. After 6 or so months, they take out the balloon. It costs less than $6,000. It's a non-invasive procedure done in 15 minutes.
The balloon is not only not available in the US, "ballons are not in the pipeline for approval from the FDA." Also in Europe, most weight-loss surgeries are the lap-band, not the bypass. Here in the US lap bands have only been approved for a few years, and many doctors won't even do them. My doctor does them, but feels I'm too fat.
What gets me is that "Because the new procedures are widly accepted in Italy, both the band and the balloon are virtually free for patients, paid for by the national health insurance plan."
This of course could easily prompt another rant on free medicare-provided Viagra for convicted sex offenders but no surgery for fat ol' me, but you've all heard it before, right?

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

news: fat kid killed by diet of fries, toast & baked beans

I can't make this shit up. Then again, it was in the London Times--isn't that like the Sun over here?
Original link

Basic story:
Killed by chips and toast
A LAD who only ate chips, toast and baked beans was killed by his junk diet — aged just 20.

After years of unhealthy eating, Scott Martin’s liver began to fail, he developed hepatitis and his blood would not clot.

Sixteen-stone (224 lb) Scott refused a life-saving liver transplant because he was too scared and was so weak he needed a wheelchair.

He finally bled to death after an op to remove three infected teeth.

I must stop quoting to comment. Are they implying his bad teeth came from his diet? And why would a doctor operate on such high-risk patient over some stupid teeth? He needed a FUCKING LIVER TRANSPLANT who gives a rat's ass about his TEETH?!

Here's more:

His devastated family told yesterday how they had tried to get Scott to eat proper food since childhood.

His sister Gail Fairweather said: “Scott would never eat any fruit or vegetables. There were only a few things he would eat — McDonald’s chips were his favourite.

“He would eat toast — but only if it was made from sliced white Danish bread, with a thin spreading of Lurpak butter.

“ He would eat baked beans, but only Morrisons’ own brand and only now and then.

“He was always like that, from being little. Finding stuff he would eat was such a struggle.”

Scott, of Sunderland, fell ill last year and at first his family thought he had flu. Mum-of-six Gail said: “He was tired all the time and could not walk far. He got out of breath very quickly and could barely get across the room.”

Did his parents ever try to get him to take a VITAMIN pill? I mean, I'm a fussy eater, but this guy makes me look like I'm, I don' t know. A gourmand. Whatever the word is for someone who eats a huge variety of food.

Anyway, here's his fate:

Medics discovered liver problems — although he rarely drank. Scott was sent to a dietician after refusing the transplant — but didn’t like nutritional supplements on offer.

Doctors insisted on the teeth op, fearing Scott would be killed by blood poisoning — but afterwards his gums would not stop bleeding.

Well at least they aren't blaming the doctors. Or McDonalds. Or the companies that made the baked beans or bread or butter.

My parents accept their culpability in my eating habits. My mom said if I didn't like something she never forced me to eat it. Now she wishes she had, but it's too late. I do eat veggies though, and fruits, and I exercise, and sometimes I even take vitamins or other supplements.

body disphoria part 2..or maybe just a long sordid story

I'm thinking about when I was thin.
Of course, I didn't get thin in a healthy way. Might as well tell the whole sordid story.
I was best friends with this guy for 2 years. He wanted more, I didn't.
Then when I decided I might want to try him out after all, he pissed me off. He invited me to a talent show he was performing he didn't say exactly that I was there as his date or anything, but he did invite me special and tell me to meet him during intermission...and when I got there, there was this girl with his parents, and it wasn't his sister. At intermission when I went to find him to tell him what I thought of his act...there he was in the hallway sucking face with this girl. (Who was 13--he was 16. enough said of that.) So I was pissed, because I was 17, and nothing, nothing, nothing is going to piss off a 17 year old girl like finding some guy who claims to love her sucking face with some 8th grader. He was a SENIOR! (I was a junior--yeah, I'm older than him, long story.)
So he graduated, and I wouldn't talk to him anymore. Fuck him, right? Fuck him right in the ear. He had his chance at me and he blew it. (Wow, it just occured to me that he's not the only guy to pursue me and then show up with another woman on the exact day I had decided to give in to him...hmm...what does that say about me?)
I didn't talk to him all summer, even though he had some of my stuff. You know how it is with stuff, though, eventually I wanted it back. So I called him and said "I want my stuff back."

I guess I'm going to back up here.
For the 2 years we were "just friends" we spent hours talking on the phone. We'd go hiking. We'd go to the movies and for fast food or pizza. He'd hold my hand in the movies. He'd tell me that if he was my boyfriend, he'd never hurt me, he'd treat me like gold, he'd never cheat on me. (For part of these 2 years, I had a boyfriend who cheated on me.) We used to talk dirty to each other. (Not phone sex dirty. Now that I look back, silly dirty.) Everyone would tell me to just go out with him (be his girlfriend) because he was such a puppy over me and so clearly adored me. In fact, some of his girlfriends complained to me that all he did was talk about ME! So you can see this was a very strange relationship we had.

In the meantime, the junior prom came & went. I had a boyfriend. He wouldn't go with me. I was angry at that. After the prom, one of my good friends and I went shopping and were looking at half-price prom gowns and there was one I loved but it was too small for me. It was a 12 and I wore a 16. My friend said she would pay for it if I would lose weight to fit in it for our senior prom. She was overweight too, and we went on a diet together (I only remember it was at this point that I switched to diet soda from regular). She lost weight, I didn't.

Back to where I was. I hadn't seen him in several months. I was still angry. I did miss him though. He told me if I'd give him a ride home from work he'd give me my stuff back.
And I drove right by him. I didn't recognize him at first. He had been a total skinny geek. but he had worked construction for a summer and WOW. Muscles and tan everywhere. And this Billy Idol haircut.
Not that it swayed me.
I realized my mistake, turned around, and picked him up, drove him home, got my stuff. Refused to hear any explanation of what happened with the 13 year old. He told me her name, and I recognized it as a girl he had talked about being a major slut. Nice. They had broken up, and he had been through a couple of girlfriends since.
In fact, I later found out that he had a girlfriend at that moment we were in the car going to his house....if I remember, I'll come back to that.
Maybe the Billy Idol thing did sway me...because he asked me to go to the movies with him and I agreed to go. But first he had to go away for a long weekend with his church youth group. (Where he ended up fooling around with another girl too young for him--I think she was 13.)
We went to the movies, ended up parked at one of his construction sites attacking each other, and there, it was done, I was his girlfriend. Finally. And not to get off the subject, but I WAS NOT THIN. I weighed in the 180's.
Meanwhile, his latest 13 year old is sending him love letters and little wooden hearts with their names entwined. He hung these hearts above his bed and wrote her love letters back. He did not tell her about me. He couldn't understand why I was upset.
I'm 18 , and in competition for a 17 year old with a 13 year old. Ridiculous.

Let's skip ahead and back at the same time. Many years later I had a new job, and this boyfriend of mine (yeah, still in the picture) came in to see me. And one of my co-workers asked me his name after he left, and I told her, and she asked described his house accurately. I was taken aback, of course, since I had been with him for 4 years at that point, asking how she knew. Maybe she knew his sister, right? And she said matter of factly that she used to drive her friend T there to fuck him.
And I recognized the name. "T" was one of the girlfriends he'd had and "discarded" before hooking up with me. Okay, so my new coworker had driven him there before he was mine.
She remembered it being fall, and winter. She described when they met. She had it right, as far as I knew from what he had told me. I started going out with him in September of that year, and that "fall and winter" this other girl was going to his house on a regular basis to fuck him.
This caused a fight, of course, and got me injured, and my co-worker called a liar.

Back to that fall.
We're delirously in love. We breathe in unison when together. No one has ever been as happy as we were together. And our friends said, it's about damn time you two hooked up.
(Of course, now I know all the while he was boinking T. So much for his promises that he would never cheat on me or hurt me.)
This goes on for two months. Then he drops his bombshell. He's moving to another state. Just for the hell of it. His parents aren't moving, just him. He's going to live with his grandparents. Just cause. He still had no car, so I had to drive him to the bank to withdraw all his savings to buy a plane ticket to leave me.
I have never, ever before or since, been so devastated. Maybe it was being 18. Or maybe he really was the love of my life.
So my love left me. He moved a thousand miles away. I wrote to him every day. Every day. Twenty hand-written pages. I wore sunglasses all day because I was crying all the time. I stopped eating. I mean it. I ate a chicken McNugget and a couple of fries every few days at work. Or some days I'd have an orange. Just an orange. All day.
My ex-boyfriend, the one who cheated on me when I was just friends with my "current" boyfriend, became so concerned that once a week he'd take me to Wendy's and force me to eat a whole meal of a double burger and fries and a frosty. Ironically, he was the only one who noticed or cared what was happening to me. To this day, I hate Wendy's hamburgers and refuse to eat them.
I know now that I was in a severe depression. I needed help. No one helped me.
I was dropping a size every few weeks. I didn't want to shop for clothes knowing in a few weeks they wouldn't fit. It was just annoying. It took time away from my 20 page a day missive. I wish I could go back in time and choke all my teachers and scream at them for not trying to talk to me. They saw me crying all day in class. They saw me melting like a fucking snowman in July.
I'm very smart. I graduated in the top 5% of my class. I had a good relationship with my teachers. I liked most of them very much. I might or might not have listened. Maybe they didn't think it was their place, who knows?
The inevitable happened--he dumped me long distance. I know that he had another girlfriend because a mutual friend visited him there in that distant state, and saw him with her. I now had nothing to do, no 20 pages to write, no food to eat. So I started to walk. I'd walk in the middle of a blizzard to a friend's house 5 miles away, drink a cup of tea or hot cocoa and walk home, with my only company the sound of snow falling and the distant sounds of snowplows. My sweatpants were so big they'd fall off so I'd wear 2 or 3 pairs with long johns underneath. It was annoying, not a good thing. Damn sweats, why can't they stay up?
A guy at work asked me out. I didn't care one way or the other, so I said yes, and had a new boyfriend. We were driving one day (another one with no car) and I looked down and saw that my stomach was flat. Totally flat. No pouch at all. This is the body disphoria I was talking about. I thought I was still fat.
And worse, I didn't care that I was thin. I didn't want to go out and buy new clothes. I still hated myself. Totally illogical, I know.
When I got the news that my ex-boyfriend was coming back, my depression lifted a little. I went shopping and found out I was a size 6 or 7. For the first time I was excited at my weight loss.
He almost didn't recognize me this time. 65 or so pounds thinner; he'd left a chubbie size 16 and came back to a (not skinny, but much smaller) size 6. 124 lbs.
Another day I'll tell how I got fat again.

body disphoria

I think I spelled that right.
I used to have a (male) friend who had gender disphoria. (I am still thinking that's spelled wrong. Maybe dysphoria? doesn't look right either). He liked to wear women's underwear and even started taking hormones to grow boobs. Very strange.
I have boobs. And I wear women's underwear. But I'm a woman, so both of those things are okay. And they are both okay with ME. I have no desire to grow a penis or body hair, or cut off my boobs (maybe reduce them, but that's a topic for another post).
But I don't have a good relationship with my body. I don't know where my body is in space. Or more accurately, how much space it takes up. The body in my head and the body, well, my physical body, are not the same.
Now, you'd think that according to the rules of affirmations & wish fulfillment that thinking I have a smaller body should make it so. You know, act as if and all that. But it's not working.
I am leaning forward to type this. My belly is touching the desk. And my thoughts are, as I feel the cold metal against my belly, is "why is my belly against the desk?" because I don't FEEL it. I don't feel the fat. I can only feel the muscles I've built from working out. I know my stomach isn't flat, but seeing how NOT FLAT it is (how BULBOUS) is very upsetting to me. I can't reach across it. If I had size-zip pants, I wouldn't be able to zip them because I wouldn't be able to reach.
I am going to therapy tonight. Maybe I'll bring this up.

Monday, January 16, 2006

This is my workout

In case anyone's interested, this is what I do for my workout. I do these in a heated pool. I wear a float belt (for stability and to remind me to suck in my stomach) and flipper gloves (for added resistance)
7 minutes each of:

  • Marching with punching arms. Knees to chest, arms out to front and elbows as far back as I can push them. My torso and head are immobile in the water. (ie, I am NOT bouncing.) Water depth: 4 feet
  • Kickbacks with big sculling arms. Thighs perpendicular to the bottom of the pool. Calves kick backward. This looks like hopping from above the water. Meanwhile, my arms get extended out and behind me as if I'm going to hug you, and then pulled to the front as if I'm praying. Water depth: 4 feet
  • Cross Country: both legs slightly bent. Scissor feet/legs forward and back (so I look like scissors in profile). Heels and toes both touch the bottom with every step so steps are not big. Arms down at sides, sweeping forward and back. Water depth: 4 feet
  • Jumping Jacks: knees slightly bent when landing. All of the power in this is in my arms--it's my arms coming down hard which propell my body up. My legs just move in and out. Water depth: 4 feet
  • Wrestle the alligator: grasp a noodle so your hands are dividing the noodle into 3 equal parts: one between your hands, and one on either side. Rapidly push and pull your hands (push with one, pull with other) back and forth on the surface of the water, contorting the noodle. Meanwhile bicycle your legs. Water depth: whatever's deep enough that your feet don't touch bottom.
When I am done with the 7 minutes each, I then do 5 minutes each, then 3 minutes each, then a speed round of 1 minute each where I try to go as fast as possible.
(7*5)+(5*5)+(5*3)+(5*1)=74 minutes, plus swimming between deep end and shallow end with the noodle brings it to 80 minutes.
Then I do some stretches, with the noodle again, in waist-deep water. I put my back to the wall and put the noodle under one ankle and let my leg float as much as it will stretch. I rotate my hip so my leg is as high as it can go, and out to the side. Hold 30-60 seconds.
Bring the leg in so it's pointing straight in front and hold 30-60 seconds.
Keeping the noodle at my ankle, I execute a lovely turn so I am facing the wall and the noodle is still under my ankle, only now my thigh is perpendicular to the bottom. Hold 30-60 seconds.
Bring that leg down and grab the noodle with the other ankle. Do the exercises on the other leg in reverse order.
These stretches add 3-6 minutes to the workout.

working out

I just worked out for about an hour and fifteen minutes. While I was in the water, a lady came over to me after doing some laps. (Maybe a dozen, if that) and said "Last time I saw you, you were bouncing up and down too." I took this to be friendly, so I replied, "I bounce up and down for an hour and twenty minutes, 3 times a week" and she made this kind of face and said "all you do is bounce?" and I said "No, I do five different exercises" and she continued to make the face and swam into the deep end, where she sat on a noodle and gossiped. How dare she? She did maybe 5 minutes of swimming and she SNEERS at my hour and 20 minutes?
On the good side, one of the therapists said she will write a letter to my insurance company stating how much I work out. I have 3 more to ask.
I was standing at the side of the pool talking to her while wearing my bathing suit. My stomach felt so tight and flat and good. I kept touching it with my fingers. Then when I got into the locker room I saw myself in the mirror and I look as fat and disgusting and bulbous as ever.
Where's the fucking payoff for all this work? I don't look better, I don't weigh less, and right now I'm so exhausted I can barely type.

Saturday, January 14, 2006

Insurance Companies Suck

So we have this new insurance, right, and my doctor's office said I'm going to require more things to get my surgery.
And then today I get an email from a friend, who works at the insurance company in question. She told me they are re-writing all the coverage in 2006 to specifically EXCLUDE WLS, which they used to cover with no questions asked, now it's with questions, and soon it will be "fuck off and die you fucking fattie."

Friday, January 13, 2006

spiders in the news

I really hate spiders. I used to be so fearful and hateful toward them that I could not even look at a PHOTO without getting creeped out, or watch them on TV. I'm not so bad anymore but I still despise them.
Today I saw not one but TWO spider articles, so I thought I'd share/comment. Totally off topic, of course.

Spider nests in ear

Stockholm - A spider that nested in the ear of a Swedish woman was discovered and removed alive after 27 days, Swedish tabloid Expressen reported on Wednesday.

The black spider, "the size of a thumbnail", crept into the woman's ear while she was sleeping and went undiscovered for almost a month, the paper said.

The woman, whose name was not disclosed, told the paper that she at first experienced "a slight loss of hearing" and assumed that she had a build-up of wax.

But when she heard "a scratching sound" in her ear she decided to go to the pharmacy to buy a cleanser to wash out her ear cavity.

When she did so, the spider was flushed out alive and crawled away.

The woman recalled having seen a spider on her bed in November, 27 days earlier.

THE SIZE OF A THUMBNAIL! If I saw a spider than big on my bed, that sucker would be DEAD. Not allowed to CRAWL INTO MY EAR.
I have personally had some very close encounters with spiders. The summer I graduated from college, I spent a lot of time at a local park with friends, playing chess on the grass. I got a bite one day, so bad I went to the doctor and he thought I had lyme disease. A huge red spot (4" across) developed on my leg and didn't go away for several years (it just faded slowly). I have no idea what bit me (I didn't see or feel the bite) but it was pretty serious.
Another time I did have one in my ear, just like that lady. I felt something scratching around in my ear just like she did, and used a q-tip, and out came a squished spider (the q-tip killed it). I nearly lost my mind.
Next story:

Man breaks leg while kicking spider

January 12, 2006 - 2:24PM

A 19-year-old broke his leg in two places while kicking at a spider in the NSW Southern Highlands.

NRMA CareFlight said the teenager was flown to Liverpool Hospital in a stable condition from a property 25km west of Mittagong after the incident involving a large huntsman spider before 1pm (AEDT) on Thursday.

The force of the man's kick at the spider broke his right leg in two places and also killed the spider.

The Huntsman is listed by the Australian Museum as being a relatively harmless species, although the Badge Huntsman can cause pain, headache, vomiting and an irregular pulse.

RELATIVELY HARMLESS: pain, headache, vomiting & irregular pulse.
Kind of like the side effects for some medicines. "Side effects include pain, nausea, dizziness, anal leakage, stroke, heart attack and sudden death. Do not use while driving." George Carlin does a whole riff on one of his HBO specials on side effects.
I once broke my two of my toes (on two separate days) kicking the same chair during the same song on MTV at the same time of day, about 5 days apart, because the song reminded me of my boyfriend who was cheating on me.
Enough about my stupid life. You want to hear about my stupid fat. Later I will post something.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

fat acceptance poll

I'm not sure if this is good news or not.
The good news is, less people hate fat people.
The bad news is, more people are fat people.
Contrast this with the map I posted earlier!

The market research firm, NPD Group, has been surveying Americans for two decades about their attitudes toward eating and weight. This is the percentage of people who agreed with the statement: "People who are not overweight are more attractive."

  • 1985 - 55
  • 1986 - 51.2
  • 1987 - 45.5
  • 1988 - 42.6
  • 1989 - 41.9
  • 1990 - 39.5
  • 1991 - 36.6
  • 1992 - 35.3
  • 1993 - 32.5
  • 1994 - 31.5
  • 1995 - 27.9
  • 1996 - 27.6
  • 1997 - 27.8
  • 1998 - 25.8
  • 1999 - 25.5
  • 2000 - 24.3
  • 2001 - 26.2
  • 2002 - 25.5
  • 2003 - 24.5
  • 2004 - 25
  • 2005 - 24.1


Source: The NPD Group's National Eating Trends Survey.

Note: Results have a margin of error of plus or minus 2.1 percentage points.

USA Obesity Map--where the fat people are

I was scrolling through google's new blog search looking for my own blog (haven't found it yet) and I came across this map from the CDC.
In 1991 I was not as fat as I am now. I was not quite 1/2 the size I am now (still fat), but I still qualified as obese. That was before the regimen of drugs that packed 125lbs on me in a year. Of course, with a goal weight of 107 lbs, just eating a big meal could qualify me as obese.

change detection panel

I recently added a site counter to this blog (way down at the bottom) & I've been pleasantly surprised at how many people are visiting my rants & ravings every day. I can see from the short visits that many aren't staying, probably because there's nothing new. So I've also added a Change Detection panel. Simply add your email address (I DO NOT have access to these, only how many people have signed up) and you'll get an email when I post. This saves you from checking and finding nothing new.
Just part of the service!

surgery blocked AGAIN

I am so pissed off right now.
My husband's company randomly changed insurance companies on January 1st. It took this long for the new card to come in the mail. I immediately faxed it over to all my various doctors. The obsesity surgery doctor's office just contacted me and said this insurance company requires SIX MONTHS MINIMUM of a Doctor-supervised diet and exercise program.
So although I am going to that damn doctor (the one who blocked me last year) next week, even if she unblocks me, I have to do some other friggin crappy thing that won't work. None of it works. Damn it, if something worked, I WOULD BE THIN.
I would sit and cry if I could, but I can't.
Tonight I'm going to my new therapist. I brought a dream for her to analyze (she likes that). It's about my husband's dead dad, my sick dad, the end of the world, and some other stuff. Hopefully this new insurance will pay. I think I already said that she wants to put me in a hospital for 30 days to lose weight. That I won't do. I have several jobs and a life. I can't put all that on hold for a month to lay around in a fucking hospital bed. What good does that do? That doesn't teach me real world eating and coping skills.
A R G H ! !

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

supersized me

Last night I was driving home at around 11 p.m. from my other job, and I hadn't had supper, and only my usual happy meal-type lunch. I did have some protein pudding around 3:00 and that was it. (No fat no sugar pudding made with lowfat organic milk and protein powder). I ended up stopping at McDonalds. I can't remember the last time I ate at McD's. Years and years ago.
When I used to work there (who didn't?), we had two sizes of fries: small and large. Small was the little paper packet. Large was the cardboard. That was it. Once a year they had the super-size special with an extra large, which seemed enormous to us back then. Wow, could people EAT all those fries?
Some time in the last few years, the small has basically gone away, except for kid's meals, in all fast food restaurants. The small isn't even on the menu (you can get one if you ask, but they look at you funny.) The default "small" is now "medium" and that "medium" is the exact size the "large" was when I was a teenager. So today's "large" was the extra-large that we marveled over in the late 80's. And don't forget that there's King Size (don't know what McD's calls it, but Burger King calls it King, of course), which is even bigger than large, and the large used to be extra large, so what the hell is king? It should just be called lard-ass size.
I went to McDonalds because I wanted chicken. Specifically, chicken McNuggets. The drive-up menu sucks and I couldn't find McNuggets, so I got these Chicken Select things instead. A 3 pc with a small fry (Huh? Small? Picture an acned teenager scratching his head. Where's small again on the computer?) cost me over $4 which is just fucking OUTRAGEOUS.
I ate them while driving, which is against one of my cardinal rules of eating--no eating in the car except at the park. And they were damn tasty, I'll have to say. And I'd forgotten how good the fries are. It's all chemical additives of course and MSG. (Read Fast Food Nation if you don't believe me.)
So the sizes of the fries just got me thinking. No wonder everyone in this country is so fat. When I was a kid, my dad ate a large fry (now called medium) and my mom and I ate small fries when we went to McDonald's. Now we all eat large fries (once called extra large) when we go to Burger King or Wendy's. It's the same thing with the soda. It doesn't matter much to me because I drink diet, but if I didn't, there's a calorie thing there too. (Ten calories a sip. It adds up!) The "small" soda I like to get (free refills, you know) is what used to be a medium, I think, because the "medium" soda is what used to be a large. And so on. Portion size has gotten HUGE, and yet people are more sedentary than ever. Damn these seductive, becautiful computers that force us to sit in front of them and stare at a screen.... It's no wonder people are huge too, when we clearly eat so much more AS A CULTURE than we used to.
I'm not talking about the bingeing disorder that I may or may not have. I'm talking eating what everyone else does. If getting a 3 pc chicken select and a small fry at 11 p.m. is a subclinical bingeing disorder, I guess I've got one.
It's really almost criminal of Americans to be such fucking pigs with food.
It's wrong that I'm so fat when others are starving.
I wish I could have some poor starving person follow me around all day and finish my food. I mean, I get a double burger and throw away half the bun to the seagulls. And I feel guilty giving it to the seagulls (which are evil nasty carrion eaters, I know, I know) because it's got no nutricional value, but I still eat it. I have more concern for disgusting savage wild birds than I do my own health.
I guess that says a lot about me, huh?

Just shoot me: study shows mid-life obesity a threat

From that happy go lucky place, My comments interpersed.

Study: Mid-life obesity a threat by itself
Blood pressure, cholesterol not only factors in heart disease

Wednesday, January 11, 2006; Posted: 4:06 a.m. EST (09:06 GMT)
CHICAGO, Illinois (AP) -- Middle-age people (what the hell is middle aged? Am I middle aged? I'm not even 40 yet) who are overweight but have normal blood pressure and cholesterol levels are kidding themselves if they think their health is just fine. (I don't think my health is fine. It's the stupid insurance company who would rather pay for lots of small diseases over a long period of time than fix a single big--supersized--malignant--problem.)

Northwestern University researchers tracked 17,643 patients for three decades and found that being overweight in mid-life substantially increased the risk of dying of heart disease later in life -- even in people who began the study with healthy blood pressure and cholesterol levels.

High blood pressure and cholesterol are strong risk factors for heart disease. Both are common in people who are too fat, and often are thought to explain why overweight people are more prone to heart disease. (okay, wait a second. It just started out by saying overweight people who DON'T have HPB & HC. I have neither, btw. So which is it? )

But there is a growing body of science suggesting that excess weight alone is an independent risk factor for heart attacks, strokes and diabetes.

The new study fits with that evolving school of thought and contrasts with a controversial government study published last year that suggested excess weight might not be as deadly as previously thought. (musta missed that one)

"The take-home message would be pay more attention to your weight (like I could ignore a 200lb fat suit even if I wanted to.) even if you don't have an unhealthy risk factor profile yet," said lead author Lijing Yan, a researcher at Northwestern and Peking University.

The study appears in Wednesday's Journal of the American Medical Association.

Participants were Chicago-area men and women in their mid-40s, ( so I have ten years or so to go) on average, who had no heart disease or diabetes when the study began. They were followed for an average of 32 years. The researchers tracked deaths from cardiovascular disease and diabetes, and hospitalizations for those conditions, starting at age 65.

A total of 1,594 heart disease deaths occurred, 31 of them in people who started the study with normal blood pressure and cholesterol.

Among participants with normal blood pressure and cholesterol at the start, those who were obese -- or grossly overweight -- were 43 percent more likely than normal-weight participants to die of heart disease later on. They were also four times as likely to be hospitalized for heart disease.

Participants who were modestly overweight but had normal blood pressure and cholesterol still ran a higher risk than the normal-weight people.

A total of 1,187 participants -- 494 of them overweight or obese -- had normal blood pressure (120 over 80 or lower) and cholesterol levels (under 200) at the outset. Standard body-mass index categories were used to define weight -- BMIs of 25 to 29 were considered overweight and 30 and above was obese.

Yan said it is possible that some overweight participants developed high blood pressure and cholesterol problems during the study, which could have contributed to their deaths. But she said researchers increasingly believe that being too fat causes other cardiovascular problems, too.

Fat tissue "is not like an inert storage depot -- it's a very dynamic organ that is actually producing hormones and chemical messengers," (I did not know that. I thought it was inert ugly fat.) said Dr. JoAnn Manson, chief of preventive medicine at Harvard's Brigham and Women's Hospital.

These substances can damage blood vessels, increase the risk of blood clots and cause insulin resistance that makes people prone to diabetes (so make a drug which counteracts them, and doesn't allow the hormones to bind the the receptacles to do damage. Duh.) -- all without elevating blood pressure or cholesterol, said Manson, who was not involved in the Northwestern study.

Still, there is a common misconception that excess weight is nothing to worry about until high blood pressure and poor cholesterol develop, (tell that to the insurance company!) and those can then be treated with medications, Manson said. "Patients say that all the time, and many doctors actually will say that to patients," she said.

The study "will help define obesity as a disease" in itself, said Dr. Samuel Klein, an obesity expert at Washington University in St. Louis.

Dr. David Katz, an obesity researcher and director of Yale University's Prevention Research Center, said the findings help prove obesity is a real public health crisis. "People who say obesity has been hyped are wrong," Katz said. (HYPED? HYPED?! Live in this body for a day and then say it's HYPED. It's not Brokeback Mountain with two gay cowboys boffing each other in a tent, this is MY LIFE and it's NOT HYPE.)

Copyright 2006 The Associated Press.

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

fat news: Obese Patients Increase Need For Specialized Medical Care

Obese Patients Increase Need For Specialized Medical Care

The article's long, I'm not going to post the whole thing here. I know the stupid link will go away, or require a paid registration. You'd think they'd be grateful that people like me want to comment on their articles and get them broader readership. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

I don't remember if I ever mentioned the article (I saw it in, I believe) where they found that because of the size of their (our) asses, the obese are shortchanged when getting injections. The above-referenced article is an outshoot of that, talking about all the problems us fatties are having.

Blood pressure cuffs, which have been my nemesis for years, are mentioned. I truly believe that having a small, too-tight cuff on my arm fucks up the reading completely. I've had nurses give up on me and say they can't get a reading off those small cuffs. Duh. When they can get a reading, my BP is normal. Usually they can't. THEIR problem for not having the right equipment, not mine.

A few years ago I had to get an MRI on my leg. (Long, painful story.) They inserted me leg-first into the maw of this machine, and my stomach didn't fit. I couldn't inhale fully as my stomach area totally filled the machine. Plus I had to lay on my back and I couldn't breathe right away. I thought I was going to pass out. They have open MRI machines now and I did vow at that time that I'd never allow myself to be crammed into an MRI machine like 10 pounds of shit in a five pound bag.

The article mentions doctor's waiting rooms. One of the doctors I went to for my sleep apnea has all these cushioned benches, which matched the chairs for height and fabric. The benches were pushed together in 2s and 3s, and each bench was about the width of the chairs. Very subtle and tasteful. The obesity surgeon, of course, had lots of wide padded benches and over-wide armchairs in his waiting room. My regular physican has 4 cheap plastic/metal chairs, all with arms, that almost come up with me when I stand. Nice.

I've complained about my scale which only goes up to 300#. (I know my old one only went up to 250 so I guess this is an improvement.) The article talks about home scales that go up to 660 lbs, so that people don't have to get weighed at the post office. Wow, I could get weighed at the post office? Hmm, the things I learn every day about this world. I could probably get weighed at UPS and FedEx too. I can't imagine coming in and asking the nice man who sells me stamps if he could please weigh ME as well as my envelopes. They also mention going to the boatyard. We haven't got a local boatyard, so that's out. Our river is too small for boats.

A quaote from the man whose company sells the 660# scales:"People call and say they had to go down to the boatyard or the post office to get weighed, and it was humiliating," he said. "Until you speak with these people heart to heart, you don't understand what they're going through."

The article switches focus then, to:

Susan Yanovski, an obesity expert with the National Institutes of Health, has studied the facility changes required for larger patients and the physician approaches that she thinks need to evolve, too. The bias against obese people is "systemic and institutionalized," she has written.

"We're really just getting started in looking at how this impacts care," she said in an interview. From accessibility to attitudes, "we're really doing people a disservice if we don't find better ways to do diagnosis and provide treatment."

I've probaly mentioned the asshole doctor who first treated me after my leg injury. He said "IF YOU WEREN'T SO FAT YOU WOULDN'T HAVE FALLEN DOWN." I complained to the other people at the facility about his comment and they said that I misunderstood his accent. Bullshit.

And now page 2 of the article isn't coming up. Grr. I shoulda pasted it into a word document. Who knew it would go away in less than half an hour?

Oh, there it is. I'll type faster this time.

Open MRI machines... wasn't I just talking about that? Yup, I was. And they say,

The issue goes beyond girth to medical efficacy. Although an open MRI machine can accommodate an obese person, its penetration and focus often suffer. A higher energy level is required to bore through all that tissue and "produce a clear, clinical image with a diagnostic value," Boleyn said.

Obese people may face similar problems with ultrasound, mammography and electrocardiogram tests. They may avoid regular health care because of embarrassment, caustic physician comments or transportation difficulties. No matter the reason, the implications can be serious.

What happened to me when I smashed my tailbone? Right, the stupid x-ray machine couldn't penetrate all my butt and abdomenal fat to get to my coccyx to see if I broke it or not. I know all this stuff FIRST HAND and I've already even talked about some of it.

Someone else comments about the needle issue, and suggests that even if the needle was long enough, the dosage might be inadequate. I mean, in animals, dosage is by weight. The vet weighs the cat or dog and adjusts the medicine. Why not in humans?

Clinical trials are rarely conducted with severely heavy people...
Yeah, I know that too. Remember when I got denied for the obesity study because I was too fat?

What I like the most about the article is a sidebar which says who's blogging article. Dare I to think this will make the list? There's only six. God, how I dream of someone like Oprah finding this blog and making me famous and rich and getting me my damn surgery.

Happy new year-celebrate with food poisoning.

I got food poisoning over the weekend. Happy new year!
I went to Red Lobster where I had a simple appetizer of 3 pieces of chicken and a few small mozzarella sticks, and a side of mashed potatoes, along with that delicious bread. I ate too much of the bread. Tourist eating. Always my downfall. As I was driving home, I was thinking how STUFFED I felt, and how rare that is. I just don't eat like that. The next morning when I got up, I still felt full. And it didn't feel "right".
By lunchtime, my stomach contents felt like concrete. I tried pooping but it didn't ease up. I tried to eat, but couldn't. At 1:30 I started throwing up. And, just like last December, 9 hours of puking and shitting, sometimes simultaneously. But not as bad as last year--last year I puked 27 times, this year only 6, and never projectile vomiting and never through my nose. So it was really a picnic in comparasion. Hubby, very concerned about me (haha), came home from work early (any excuse) and then immediately went over his friend's house. He promised to be home by midnight. At around 10:30 I called him and asked him to stop and get me some ginger ale. At 1:30 a.m. when I woke up next, he still hadn't left for home. I think it was 2:15 before I got my ginger ale. By then I was too weak to get up and refill my water bottle. (luckily I was done with the purging by then.) I was really pissed at him. But what else is new? When he left the house I was shaking uncontrollably and wrapped in 2 quilts with a heating pad because I couldn't warm up after all those hours of purging. But he left me alone anyway.
On New Year's Day, I finally felt like I could eat a little. I went to my parents' house. I ate only a few bites of each thing, including the chocolate parfait. I had pulled some muscles in my stomach and every time I bent over, or laughed, or coughed, my abdomen HURT, a kind of ripping pain, very ugly. It went away by Monday night, thank god.

back to "sub clinical bingeing disorder"

I made a call to the therapist who denied my surgery due to the sub clinicial bingeing disorder that I haven't got. Of course I got the voice mail saying "if this is an emergency, call 911, otherwise leave a message." What if I called 911? here's the conversation.
--911, what's your emergency?
--My psychiatrist says I have a sub-clinical binging disorder and I don't.
--Okay---is anyone bleeding? Has there been an accident?
--No, but I want to get my surgery and she won't approve me. Her voicemail said to call 911.
--Ma'am, what's your emergency?
--I need surgery. I weigh 350 pounds and I can barely walk.
--Did you break your leg?
--No. I need a gastic bypass.
--I'm confused. Do you need it this minute? Should we send an ambulance?
--If you send an ambulance, will I get the surgery no matter what the doctor says?
--Ma'am, I don't understand the nature of your emergency.
--I don't have a sub-clinical binging disorder and I want my gastic bypass surgery.
--Ma'am, it's a crime to call 911 when it's not an emergency. --click--
While I was typing this amusing (and FAKE conversation-- I would not call 911 for that), I had google running a search in the background for "subclinical bingeing disorder" and guess what?
NO FUCKING RESULTS. It DOESN'T FUCKING EXIST. So I can't possibly have it.