I have a patient who’s 265lbs. (she may have lost weight – this the last weight I recorded)
She’s shorter than me, and fluffier. She’s older, but most importantly, she’s WAY LESS MOBILE.
I had another patient, younger than me, who was about 100lbs heavier.
She was slightly more mobile than my first patient. Could walk around the ward.
The question that comes up every report… How did it get THAT bad?
How does one let themselves get to the point of being immobile, with cellulitis, unable to stand up straight, unable to walk from the bathroom to the bed?
How does it get that bad?
Because… you never think it is. You keep doing what you keep doing… and then one day it hurts. It hurts to walk. It hurts to get off the couch. It hurts to do the workout that you’ve done in the past. It hurts.
So you do what any logical, not-enjoying-pain person does… and you avoid the hurt.
Except….that’s the problem. Avoiding the hurt means that the maintenance of your current weight stops… and you continue to gain.
And you don’t really realize that it’s happening.
Except that it hurts to keep moving.
People will keep doing what they’re doing as long as the pain of changing outweighs the pain of staying the same.
Unfortunately – when you get to a certain point – the pain of changing is worse than the pain of staying the same. It hurts more to get up and walk and eat less than it does to keep eating and sit on the couch.
The pain of staying the same won’t hurt more than the pain of changing anytime soon. You have to WANT to change more than you want to avoid the hurt.
That’s how things get that bad. The change hurts more than staying the same.
It’s where I’m at now. The cusp of the pain of change hurting more than staying the same.
My knee hurts. My back hurts. I get short of breath on exertion and sometimes when I’m sitting still.
I’m becoming morbidly obese.
Because… it’s easier to stay where I’m at.
But I don’t want to be here. I want to change more than I want to avoid the pain.
This is where I’m at. The choice between staying the same and avoiding the hurt (which will ultimately hurt more later) or changing and short term suffering until I change enough.
I choose change.
I choose short term pain for long term gain and any other motivating cliche that would be appropriate here.
I don’t want to be a morbidly obese patient in my hospital that my colleagues talk about with pity behind my back. I want to rock a bikini in Thailand in 8 months.
I want the change.