A Perfect Storm of Motivation

I’m fat.

That’s the verdict, officially delivered by the doctor.  Actually her diagnosis was, “Morbidly Obese.”  I can’t say that I’m surprised, but hearing it made me think, “Ouch!”  It’s something I’ve known for a long time, but only just recently been forced to face.  There have been a few things lately that have made me finally take the plunge into a weight management program.

About a year ago (on pain of permanent exile to the spare room), I was forced to go to a sleep clinic, where I did two sleep studies.  The doctor diagnosed me with sleep apnea and told me that I needed a CPAP machine so that I don’t stop breathing 50 times a night.  My snoring was severe, and my wife, Tina, said it was like a monster truck rally.  So I got the CPAP and started using it.  A year later, I sleep a lot better (because breathing is good) and the snoring has stopped.  Weight is a factor that can cause and/or aggravate sleep apnea.

Two other things created my “Perfect Storm” of motivation.  One was the fact that I play softball in the summer.  I am so out of breath from running bases, that I think people wonder if I will pass out.  I want to be able to get to first without being out of breath.  I’m not the only one who’s out of shape, but it’s kind of embarrassing when I’m breathing so hard that it looks like I just ran a marathon.

The second factor leading to my joining the program was trying to buy clothes.  I’ve found that I’m now generally too big to fit into clothes from the usual places.  My last shopping trip for clothes was an epic fail.  Clothes that were labelled XXL were too small, and jean and pant sizes stopped a couple inches short of where I am.  We were forced to go to the Big and Tall store, spending more money than we wanted to, but not really having a choice.

So, one day, Tina tells me I need a family doctor.  She booked an appointment for herself and for me and I went.  Blood tests were done, and came back basically healthy (How does that happen?), but I’m morbidly obese.  Luckily, Tina had heard of a place called The Wharton Medical Clinic.  Our doctor gave us a referral and we booked an appointment.  This is where the real odyssey begins…


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