Written by Leah Graffier Lea Lea love clothes
I’ve had a very, very difficult year.
It began with a series of increasingly alarming symptoms. Excessive sweating, high blood pressure, joint pain, dizziness, and many other symptoms were mostly just endured while other, more pressing health issues took away my attention and energy. I expressed my concerns to my doctor, but like most plus-size women, I was dismissed. A common answer is, “You’re overweight.” That’s stress. It’s probably because of the antidepressants. (But that’s a story for another day.)
What is their solution? Please give me GLP-1 medicine. A bandaid on the actual problem instead of actually investigating my complaint.
I kept pushing forward, trying to trust the system. But what I received in return was not concern, but condescension and criticism disguised as medical advice. If you tell them you’re farting holographic pixie dust, the answer will still be “lose weight.” Because what seems rare is actually impossible, especially if you’re overweight.
Now, nearly a year later, I lie in a hospital bed, 45 pounds lighter and facing another Crohn’s disease flare-up that could add another chapter to my encyclopedic medical history. I’m not here because I chose to lose weight. I’m here because weight loss is the price of admission and the only way to get my other worries heard. But in the fight to have them heard, something more profound may have been lost. It’s only a problem if you can’t ignore it without getting sued, right?
Let me be clear: What about that weight loss? It wasn’t a victory. But who would call that a red flag when I’m on weight loss drugs? Not my doctor. Not me. Just applaud. Applause for probably being wasted.
compensation for dismissal
Another year of my life was lost to being ignored. A year where you couldn’t grow your business with all your effort and energy. It’s been a year and probably more than two years in which starting the family I so longed for has been pushed even further out of reach. It’s been a year where I felt like every day was not just living, but surviving.
My symptoms were ignored because the medical industry is so obsessed with weight that they miss what’s right in front of them. If I scream loud enough and cause enough trouble, perhaps my persistence will pay off, even if I end up with nothing else to give. But at what cost?
And here’s the real question: Is the weight loss everyone touted really due to GLP-1, or does taking GLP-1 simply mask weight loss due to nutritional deficiencies and malabsorption? Perhaps if all of us, myself included, hadn’t been conditioned to equate weight loss with health because we’ve all been drinking the Kool-Aid by now, my illness might have been discovered sooner.
But I’ll never know.
My focus was ultimately on advocating for other parts of my body not related to Crohn’s disease. I was trying to survive. And now? Now I mourn my loss while others celebrate.
Thinness didn’t save me
Let’s be honest: The health care system’s obsession with thinness isn’t helping us, it’s hurting us. It hurt me, my family, and anyone who identifies as a woman, especially plus-size women, more than it ever helped.
So, yeah, I’m sad. Another year of crying about sleeping in and going to the doctor. You miss out on opportunities to make friends and participate in activities. You will be sad if you no longer have a normal school or job. Loss of carefreeness.
I will be mourning my family, which may have started this year. A version of me with more energy, creativity, and career ambition. They will lament that money was spent on special care not covered by insurance, instead of being used for special benefits. I especially lament my sexual desire, which seems to disappear under my power.
When the doctor looks surprised and says, “But you’re so young!”, I tell a dark joke or smile to hide the pain. Because I am. I’m 28 years old.
But even at 12 years old, I was admired for my slow death as I lost so much weight in just one month. No one asked how much it cost.
But I didn’t just lose weight like they thought, it also came with a price of innocence and freedom.
Source: The Curvy Fashionista – thecurvyfashionista.com
