Oh, the Horror!

The worst thing happened to me yesterday. I had my annual ladies exam, but I went to a new doctor this year. I was sick of the terrible customer service (yes, doctors, your patients are customers!) at the old office, but that’s another post all together. Anyway, the entire event was wrought with embarrassment and shame. It’s bad enough to have the exam in the first place, but this visit was particularly awful.

Each visit starts with a weigh-in, which is always fun.

Next, I walk into the exam room where they have a lovely backless gown waiting for me on the table. The nurse told me to put the gown on so that it ties in the back and to sit on the exam table, the doctor would be right in. So I trade my work clothes for a hospital gown. Of course there is only one tie (at the neck) on this gown, so my entire arse is hanging out of the thing. Not that the missing arse-level ties would have met one another anyway, since that’s the widest part of me. Not uncomfortable at all, right?

Fully gowned, I climb onto the table, only to realize that, even sitting on the table, my entire coin slot is exposed. This wouldn’t be a problem at the old, crappy customer service office where they have a curtain hanging between the door and the table. But not here, no sir! At the new, nice people office, my butt is facing the door so that whenever that door is opened, whomever is in the hallway will have a sweet, sweet view of my shiny white hiney.

So I sit on the table waiting for the doctor to come in, all the while trying to cover my crack with my hands. The logical side of me realizes this is completely ineffective, but I can’t stop trying.

The doctor finally comes in and does her thing. She is gentle and quick and I think the horror will finally be over, just as soon she lets herself out of the exam room, exposing innocent hallway bystanders to my big naked bum.

Boy was I wrong. Once she leaves the room, I jump off the table, eager to put something on that 1 – reaches all the way around me, and 2 – doesn’t expose any unsightly parts. Well, I am standing there cleaning myself up before getting dressed and for some reason, I look over my shoulder. BIG mistake. I look behind me only to realize that, for some unknown reason, there is a full length mirror there, so I get a full view of my naked back side, jiggly thighs, and lady parts. Who puts a full length mirror in the gynecologist’s exam room? This is not the sort of mirror a doctor might use to help aid an exam. No, no, no, this is the sort of mirror you hang over the back of your closet door. It was a frightening, ugly sight, really terrible. In my horror, I thought of my dear husband. He is a sweet, sweet man. I never saw myself from that perspective before, and the very fact that he can look at that and still speak to me is just amazing. You might think I am being dramatic or giving the man too much credit, but you didn’t see what I had to see. I never want to see that again!

When I got home last night, I just sat down and looked him in the eye and told him how very lucky I am to have him. I even got a little choked up. He just held my hand and told me that he’s the lucky one.

Do you think they sat around at the gynecologists convention thinking up ways to traumatize their patients? As if the exam isn’t enough fun.

Too Fat to be Attractive

Last night my husband told me he is not attracted to me physically. My heart breaks each time I think about it. I can hardly be mad at him for feeling that way; I can barely stand to see myself in the mirror. But having him admit it aloud, right to my face...it is just heartbreaking. It knocks the wind right out of me.

He also told me in the same conversation that I am everything he wants for the rest of his life. That I alone am the one person that he wants to be with. But he has trouble making love to me because of my appearance. How do I reconcile such a conflict? I love you but I can't stand the sight of you?? I asked for honesty and I got it. Now I have to live with consequences of it.

Over a year ago, I proposed bariatric surgery. He told me that is the easy way out and that the resulting flabby skin would be too ugly. And then he turns around and tells me this now. Well, to be fair, I've gotten a lot fatter in the past year, though I've been plump since he met me. But I put off the idea of the surgery in part because of his reaction to it. Why does it matter to him if I have the surgery or not? Seems like either way, he wants nothing to do with my naked body. I know surgery is not what I want, not the answer for me because of my experience with my dad.

Am I just destined to be stuck on this horrible and now insipid rollercoaster for ever? What am I missing? What, exactly, is it that I just don't get?

I've seriously started considering grown-up fat camp. I'm afraid of something too "Biggest Loser," but maybe I really need a few weeks away to regroup and refocus. Maybe I just need to give up.

For How Long?

Just the other day, my husband looked at me and told me how much better his life is with me in it. He told me how, when he was single, despite his overall satisfaction with his life, there was something missing. He made me feel loved and appreciated. I laid awake in bed that night thinking about what he'd said. I was touched; I always enjoy it when he expresses his affection and care for me. But my thoughts quickly turned. When we first married, my body was soft and curvy, never skinny. But now it is lumpy and distorted, stretched and swollen. He has never, not once, criticized my appearance. Have I dissapointed him? Does he long for someone else? How long will he tolerate this?

Is it possible to let someone else love you when you can barely tolerate yourself?