The Hunger Games
Pat Fule
Fule for Thought
I think doctors should have to take courses that deal with passing on powerful, or serious news. Maybe they already do, but perhaps they need to brush up on this! I mean, prepare us, gradually, kindly, tell us the bad stuff! I guess I can confide in you all.
I mean, I feel I can trust the 47 of you who actually read my columns. So, because I was raised Catholic, here’s my “confessions.”
My doctor hit me RIGHT between the eyes with these words. Well, actually it was three words and a number! He said, “you’re Level 1 obese!”
Level 1 obese? I don’t FEEL Level 1 Obese! I didn’t even know there WERE levels to it! He also said I had a chronological age of 52, but a Heart Health age of 64!!
That means … the Beatles could NOW be singing about ME! You remember: “will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m 64!”
I can’t be 64, I’m not ready, I tell ya … I don’t even like Bingo and Shuffleboard! I realize now that I’ve been in denial … one day, you’re a certain weight, then years later you think you’re still okay, but you find yourself 20 pounds overweight. I never, ever had a problem when I was younger. I’d eat what I wanted, and I never had to worry. Now, however, every little thing I shove in my mouth, shows up on the old weigh scale!
I know I have definitely let my activity level die, so I have no one else to blame. I’m not a big fan of the type of exercise that would actually be good for me. Recently, I went on YouTube and came across an old “Participaction” commercial. You remember the one (about 1975) … where it had a 35-year-old Canadian jogging with a 60-year-old Swedish guy. That made me sad and angry. I knew if I were to do the Math, with my age/condition, I’d probably match up with a 90 year old Swede! I let that sink in … hmmmm … I could find one to run with, that would be a way to start exercising! Heck, not to be morbid here, but that 60-year-old guy would be close to 100 by now, or … he’s dead. Either way, I know I could beat him in a race! There’s still time for me!
You do things to disguise yourself when you get heavy. I’ve worn my shirts un-tucked, I avoid turtle necks like the plague, wear black a lot, and I dread having to wear a necktie.
Neckties sinch your fat chins, and shove them up around your nose! In fact, I’m even thinking of growing a beard, to cover the various chins I’ve developed! However, there’s no denial anymore … not when you’re Level 1 Obese! I’ve also noticed that I don’t see my feet as easily as before … sometimes my shadow scares me when I see the actual silhouette!
What would it mean if I see my shadow … would it be six more weeks of blubber? I’ve also tried to eat properly at restaurants. In fact, I tried to order a salad recently, but none of the salads sounded edible at all. I mean, I don’t get why fruits are added to salads! To me, fruits and vegetables should NOT be mixed together at all. Don’t even GET me started on jellied salads! I’ve even resorted to snack on those rice cake-things. You know the ones, they taste a little like Styrofoam with just a HINT of salty dust?
Sometimes, your closest friends and relatives can turn on you, when you’re fighting your weight. Recently, I was at a pub and ordered a “cold, refreshing beverage.”
One of my teacher “pals” hurt one of my feelings (I don’t have many of those, but he found one). We had ordered beers from different world brewers. Looking at the two empty bottles, he pointed at my tall, thin bottle and his stockier one.
“Look,” he said pointing to the two bottles. “Pat in high school and Pat now!”
That stung … like the beers, that was a COLD thing to say. I thought of various ways he could be hit by a C-Train.
Finally, on the weekend, my daughter and I stopped at M & M in town for some items. I absent mindedly pointed at one of the photos of chocolate cake. Breanne quickly commented, “Dad, you don’t like chocolate cake.”
Then she looked me over and said, “wait, what am I saying … you MUST like chocolate cake!”
I reminded her that she is in the will now, but it’s looking doubtful for the future! So, here we go again. It’s another round of “the Hunger Games” … a chance for me to finally get my act together, and to paraphrase Effie Trinket, may the odds be ever in my favour!
(“Fule for Thought” is a slice of life humourous column that appears in the Strathmore Times, written by long-time resident, town councillor, high school teacher, coach, husband and father of two – Pat Fule. If you would like to get in touch with Pat, you can send him an e-mail at Pat.fule@shaw.ca)