The Medical Profession Is Out to Get Me.

I just got back from the gynecologist's office. Yes, this was doctor week for me... physician Tuesday, physical therapy Wednesday, gynecologist Thursday. Good thing I'll be seeing lots of that money coming back to me in a few weeks.

Anyway, I was as happy as one can be about going to the gyno's because things have been getting better in that department. I was looking forward to simply renewing my pill and moving on with my day of intensive vegetable shopping at the cheap markets.

After discussing things with the good doctor, she said, "Well great, no sweat then. Let's just weigh you, take your blood pressure, and you'll be out in no time..."

Great! I thought.

So she weighed me. The last time I learned my weight was in her office a few months ago, and that had been the first time in several years. I don't intentionally make a habit of not weighing myself, but I don't have a scale and I don't really want to know anyway. Whatever my weight is, I'm five pounds less than what the screen says anyway, so what's the point of trying to maintain any sense of accuracy at all?

"Whoa," I said, when I saw the number. "I've gained a kilo since I was here in February." (1 kilo = 2.2 lbs)

"Yes you have," she responded, "Although that can just be fluctuating or because you just ate or something... did you just eat?"

"Yeah," I said, "But still, if anything I would have thought I had lost a kilo. Harumph." I was trying to make it as light-hearted and fun as possible, because nobody really ever enjoys hearing they gained a pound or two. I know as well as the next guy that a pound or two doesn't make the difference, though, so what's the worry?

"Actually," she said, walking over to her files, "You're four kilos heavier than you were the first time I saw you, back in 2000."

"Four KILOS?" I said, eyes popping out of my face. "Oh no!" (Four kilos= 8.8 lbs).

I'm not taking that news quite as well.

And ok, ok. I can make lots of excuses.

I know I'm not overweight. I generally feel ok about my weight, even though like every woman, I wouldn't mind losing some flab here and there. But really, I feel pretty good about where I'm at, so why worry about the numbers?

Excuse Number 1: When she weighed me in 2000, I was 19, and now I'm 25. So there's that.

Excuse Number 2: When she weighed me in 2000, I had just come from a two-week trip in which we ate at the cafeteria every day, and the only thing I could eat was salad. So I'm sure I was three or four pounds less than usual.

Excuse Number 3: I had just eaten, and haven't shat in two days. That must account for at least a kilo, right?

Excuses aside, I'm still hearing her voice repeating, "You're four kilos heavier... you're four kilos heavier... you're four kilos heavier..."

But the real mystery here is that everyone who knew me at 19 thinks that I am actually thinner now than I was back then. Numerous unrelated people have mentioned it. So... what's going on? I would like to chalk this all up to the muscle-is-heavier than fat phenomenon, but I'm not very muscular, except in my legs (once described as "burly" by a girl who did not know how traumatic I found that term). I would also like to say my doctor's scale is off, but I have nothing to compare it to. I would like to say that it's because I had eaten just 20 minutes before, but that doesn't account for four kilos.

The worst part? After discussing my weight, she had me lie on the table per usual. Looking at me, she said, "Did you maybe gain a little in your thighs, or your butt?"

Like, Jesus, Lady! You're twisting the knife. Just, stop. Please.

So that's two traumatic doctor visits in two days. Right-o.