I am Stitch-Free--And ruminations of a personal nature on Medical Stuff and Being me.

On Wednesday, I had an appointment with my regular doctor to get my stitches out. This was such a regular sort of thing, just going in to have some string taken out of my arm. But my doctor, who is a very professional and nice person, who made me feel very at ease when he attempted to take out my sutures, and had me laty comfortably on my side, explained that he really couldn't get them out. They were done too tight.  The ER person might have been having on off day, but they were in there but good, and he couldn't get under them or around them to get them out. So I got referred to a surgeon, who might have better luck with them. So I went to a different office Thurday morning.

At my regular doctors', I got weighed as a matter of course. I don't make this a big part of my blog, but I am a person of size--I mean, I am fat. I weighed 222 pounds. I am not ashamed or weirded out by this figure, any more than I am by buying size 22 jackets or wearing a size 20 dress. I weighed 219 the last time I was there--a little over a year and a half ago, and I weighed exactly 220 when I was weighed a handful of weeks before that.  I haven't really visited doctors regularly, and I think part of the reason is I fear being treated like a fat-body first, and a person second. I don't know why I do this. I haven't really been alienated as a fat person all that much by the health care system. It's just that I expect I could.

Being weighed is trepidatious for me. I feel quantified. It's as if I know exactly how much of me there is for other people to put up with. Also, even though I know it isn't a moral quotient, I think any bad reading, like, slightly higher than average blood pressure, becomes a lose-weight thing. I am responsible for my health--and my body. And my body's size. And what I eat. And drink, etc. And no one says, you should be this size--but I vaguely know there is a size I "should" be.  Because I have been that size, and I dunno. It would suck to eat next to nothing and work out like mad to get there again. But I could.

Anyway, I'm glad this all went down with little body shame and lots of sympathy. Also, I see how tight my sutures were by how my arm feels without them. So flexible and happy!