The journey of a thousand miles

Dr's visit yesterday was stupid.
I was an hour early, after having dropped off the boys at daycare.
I signed in, filled out some paper work.  About 20 minutes before my appointment they call me back to draw blood for my labs. Phlebotomist gushed about how great a vein she'd found to draw from... then missed. Eventually she has her vials full and I am back in the waiting room, waiting. 20 minutes after my appointment they call me back... but it's a doctors office, so there is nothing unexpected about that. They take my weight. 397lbs, dressed. That's 12 lbs heavier than was when I checked myself last week in my skimmies... but I don't think sweats and a tee weigh all that much, so I'm going to say this "last hurrah" eating may have been a little out of hand. They take my blood pressure and the nurse tells me the doc will be in to see me in a bit. After about 20 minutes of cell phone games pass, the nurse comes back in and says she needs this room to preform EKGs, since it has a table, and they are moving me to a room that doesn't have one. It's more than 30 minutes after that when Doctor Hoehn comes in to see me. "So, looks like we have you booked for the 10th. You start your liquid diet yet? Sounds great. You got any questions for me? Well then, lets knock this thing out of the park! See you in 2 weeks."
Couldn't I have handled that by phone.  I realize you had to draw labs today, but I really could have left after that.  Oh well.

For the next two weeks the most solid thing I'll be eating is Jell-O.  I have vanilla flavored Whey Isolate protein powder, that I can tell I'll be sick of by the end of this, to replace meals. And I am to consume no less than 64oz of "clear fluids" each day... and sugar-free Jell-O counts as a "clear fluid" but somehow vodka and light rum do not. Also on the OK list are broths, sugar-free sports drinks, crystal light and it's ilk, Iced tea, and of course, water.

Day one of that unpleasantness is nearly behind me  now. It was a day at home, feeding the kids without eating. Tomorrow I brave working in a grocery store with a food court, and going out to a restaurant without eating for the first time.

I'm told they will surgically remove my appetite at the end of this two weeks. If successful, a hungerectomy would exercise the greatest personal demon I face.  Not the only one, but the most critical.  I'm told that if I stick to the plan, that I could conceivably be a 200lb man someday. I'm not certain I can wrap my head around what that would be like. How that would feel.

Consumption has been tied to my identity so long, some of my friends are worried they won't know how to relate to me once I can no longer finish a pint of beer in less than a second... Sometimes their fondest memories of me where when I finished 10 of McDonald's double cheeseburgers though "Dave the Cave" thew in the towel after just 8 (one of mine was actually a triple... probably a mistake, surely the cook wasn't taking sides or placing bets); when I ate a third Chipotle burrito because the manager said It'd be on the house if I could. 2 1/2 large pizzas. 75 hotwings. 12 "blazin" wings in 42 seconds. Piles of this, gobs of that... times I had turned eating and drinking into an event.

In our highschool video it was nerds vs. jocks. I had some of the trappings of both sides, but really fit in better with the geeks, dweebs and dorks. So that's the side I was cast on, and in the training montage before the big showdown, my staring role was "no... no more... I can't... no..." and another nerd coaxing me on and handing me a snickers, which I shove in my face, gnash 3 or for times, then swallow mostly whole, as it pans out an you see piles of wrappers littering the area. That's what people think of when they think of me.

I was the slow fat kid on the swim team - the one leaving people gasping "why do Speedos even come in that size?" I got prank calls at home about that. In grade school, a nemesis of mine had taunted and teased me enough on one afternoon bus ride that I blew. I pinned him against the wall of the bus and punched him in the chest ribs and torso three, four, five times. "hit me again with those fat dough-y fists!" he chided. Instead of obliging I grabbed his head and rapped it against the window, spider-webbing the glass. Just then the bus driver pulled me off of him. Mom had to take me to school for 2 weeks. She was pissed.

My best friend in grade school was quite athletic. Along with being one of the fastest and strongest kids in our grade he could jump the highest and the farthest.  In an era of Michael Jordan worship, my buddy took the moniker "Air Rich." His heavy side kick? "Ground Mike."  In our weekly music class there was a hugely popular song (at our school) that all the kids would sing along to about some oddball superheros and the chorus went "Faster than a speeding hippo, stronger than an aging flea, taller than a Chinese bag-worm and thinner than... the Washington monument." after which my class took to calling out "Mike?" and turning to where I sat. I could go on indefinably.

No kid escapes his schooling without emotional baggage. Much of mine is centered around my stomach.  I am looking forward to life after food.