“Please step on the scale.”
Today I have an appointment with my very lovely gynecologist. And her very friendly nurse will very graciously ask me to weigh in and I will very much be dreading the experience as I do every time I visit a doctor. And I very much suspect that very many of you can very easily identify with this!
My feelings may come from a different place than yours. I have never had a doctor give me “the talk” about having to lose some weight. (And conversely, when I was at one of my heaviest weights, not obese but clearly weighing too much for my small size, the new doctor I saw actually said, “Well your weight is fine,” which I attribute to the fact that she herself was obviously obese!) But, with my many years of ups and downs (and ups and downs), I have often been embarrassed by the thought that an observant doctor would notice my crazy yo-yo history.
My biggest complaint about doctor office scales is that they don’t take into account everything I so carefully account for at home. The number (that is unfortunately marked down in my chart for perpetuity) is always higher than what I see each morning when I step onto my bathroom scale. Because, as you can imagine, when I weigh myself daily I do it post-pee, pre-food/drink, without clothes, in private! When I weigh in at the doctor’s office, none of those conditions apply.
Most years, no one commented on the number. And one year my internist praised me for losing weight, asked how I did it and related that she should do something similar. But then the next time I needed to go back I was filled with dread knowing I had regained yet again and suspecting she would notice and ask about it. Okay, to be totally honest, I actually put off going the next time because I didn’t want to face the potential reaction to my gain.
I hate that first moment, after I have trepidatiously stepped on the scale, as I watch the nurse reach for a sliding weight as she starts to estimate. Should I be offended if she thinks I weigh more than I do? Should I be flattered if she starts with too low a number? Should I just close my eyes and focus on what I know I weigh in those first moments of the day?
So, today, as always, when I hear those five dreaded words, they will be followed with eight of my own: “Let me just take off my shoes first.” Now I’m off to go find my lightest weight clothes to wear:) And socks with no holes.
Any words you ever dread hearing?