It Finally Happened...

Well it's finally happened, the dreaded Doctor saying everything is caused by my weight and therefore I must have diabetes or some glucose intolerance.

I went to the doctor this morning, not my usual dickhead doctor, the other one, the female one. I needed to discuss something a little more personal and I didn't want some dude looking at my lady parts. Yes, I said "lady parts", I'm not above being embarrassed and uncomfortable talking about the more private areas of my body.

Anyway, she looked and gave me antibiotics. However, she did go on rather a lot about how I'm big and that my malady is most likely caused by diabetes -- the fat people kind, type 2 -- or a pre-diabetic thing relating to glucose intolerance, blah blah blah.

Now, I'm not an old hand at the Fat Acceptance thing and my memory doesn't allow me to remember numbers and statics and all the necessary information regarding the absurdity of her words. She even went so far as to use medical terms -- which of course I can't remember -_- -- to explain how being fat can create these kinds of things.

But that's not the worst part.

The worst part is that I just sat there and nodded even though my blood started boiling. I just sat there. I didn't say that there is no solid scientific evidence of fat = diabetes, nor did I even stand up for myself when she insinuated my fat was bad.

I was basically a big fat lump on a chair with no backbone. Ugh. 


Oh, then we spoke of a pap smear. I have neglected to have one, ever. I don't suggest doing this. Anyway, she said she could try but because I'm "bigger" she may not be able to find my cervix. She went on to say this is usually due to the beds at the surgery -- they are small and up against a wall making it hard to spread ones legs wide enough -- and the lack of a gynaecological chair.

So my fat is causing me to have diabetes -- or a diabetes related problem -- and will also make getting a pap smear hard.

Thank you so much for the wonderful self esteem boost there, Doctor. 


Again, while she was telling me all this I just sat there. Partly stunned she was so callous, partly angry and wanting to walk out, and partly embarrassed to do anything because she was previously looking at my lady parts.

I'm still angry that I couldn't find my voice and that she spat all that bullshit about being fat at me. Right now I feel rather pathetic, and quite possibly I am, and I wouldn't mind burying my head in the sand until such time as fat is accepted. Hopefully that might be within my lifetime.