LIKE A LLAMA.

On Monday evening I lay in bed moaning.

I quite reminded myself of a wounded animal, except way cuter. My head was hurting, and I am not one to get headaches.

I had a pack of ice on my face and one eye on the Tele. My ear hurt, my neck ached and my head was pounding.

I was absolutely convinced that My Bells palsy was making a comeback.
I know that I am dramatic. OKAY. OVER dramatic about some things, but a re-flare of BP scares the living fuck outta me.

10 years ago, the first sign of the sickness was an excruciating ache at the back of the head.

For the next few hours I would wake up and look at Emma "Is my face moving?" I would panic movie my face in a myriad of movements.

"YES." she would assure me. And I would fall back into a fitful sleep of nightmares about not being able to say the word FUCK. (that happened, True Story.)

The next morning I woke up and phoned my Doctor. They scheduled me for an appointment.

The nurse checked my Blood pressure and my temp and then I got on the scale.

I hadn't weighed myself in weeks. I looked down and beheld the blinking number.
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME." I growled and got off the scale, backing away from it slowly.

The nurse paused in her movements of writing down the number and stared at me. Her eyebrow raised and a not quite covered up sneer on her lips.

I looked at her for a moment stunned that she was not used to the word FUCK being used in tandem with the scale, but whateves.

We turned and I stomped down the hall to a room where I climbed up on the crinkly bed.
I seriously climbed it. Like a mountain, the bitch was so fucking high.

"What are you seeing the doctor for today?" The nurse asked me while typing on the computer.

"My everything hurts." I mumbled back and swung my legs on the veritable mountain of a bed.

She asked for specifics. I gave them to her while still cussing out the scale in my head.

She left the room and my doctor entered.

I like my doctor. He is very tidy, plus he wears expensive shoes and I appreciate that in a man.

"Did you get that tummy taken care of?" He smiled at me

"Oh. The surgery? Yes."

"Ahhh very good. Lay down I want to check it out."

I lay down and he poked at my tummy. "Very nice"

I nodded and sat up "Thanks, I think so."

I told him about my pain and he peeked in my ears, he felt my throat and he made me do all sorts of weird bells palsy face things.

After my antibiotics were ordered he turned to me and smiled "Okay! Do you need anything else while we are here together?"

"YES!" I exclaimed

"Okay." He smiled and leaned forward.

I did too "I want to talk about my Fat!" I exclaimed.

He looked at me sternly, dropped his pen on the small desk and leaned back into his chair with his arms crossed. "THAT is a very touchy subject." he murmured.

"But I am the one who brought it up." I pointed out.

He rubbed his finger along his upper lip and stared at me "Okay. What do you need to know."

I told him about the diet that I have been on. No Bread, no sugar no processed foods. 6 weeks of eating healthy, clean and like a fucking llama. "And look at my chart. I have not lost a FUCKING pound!"

He looked down at the chart and then back up at me. "I see."

I leaned forward "This makes me FEEEEEL like My body is SUPPOSED to be this fat."

He shook his head, looked down at my chart and back at me. "Okay. I can feel that you are frustrated." He murmured

"YA THINK? Do you even KNOW how much chocolate I have not imbibed in? My GOD man, I have passed on chocolate cake! I had to chant for fucks sake..CHANT   so I wouldn't eat it. And I weigh the same damn thing that I did when I ate whatever I wanted. Yeah...I am frustrated!"

A surprised laugh shot out and he covered his mouth and apologized quickly.

"Nono...Don't apologize. It is comical. I am going to go eat a cake. An entire cake!"

He shook his head "No...Now lets see...what have you been eating? Give me an example."

"Ohhhhh OKAY! For breakfast I will eat a hardboiled egg. For lunch i will eat 1/3cup of cottage cheese and 1/2 cup of fruit. Maybe I will have a salad with chicken, olives and avocados....for dinner I will have an artichoke." I sat back and crossed my arms.

If I could have crossed my legs as well I would have, but apparently I am STILL too fucking fat and stubby limbed.

"Is this all you have been eating the whole time?"

"No. I used to eat a lot more like bacon and eggs in the morning but I am not so hungry anymore."

He stared at me. "Okay would you like me to tell you some options?"

"I would like for you to tell me what the fuck to do. Just tell me. Because the last doctor told me to eat like a Llama and my body says fuck off."

He just laughed then. Just outright laughed. Which made me more comfortable.

"First I have ordered you a lab test. Lets check your Thyroid."

"Fine. But I don't except that Punk Thyroid excuse."

"It does make sense though...so we will see. Lets talk about your options. I can give you a diet pill...."

"NO." I shook my head "NO diet pills."

"Okay good. Why not?"

"Because I am fat. I came by this honestly. I will fit into my fashion honestly too."

"You can go to our weight loss clinic which is $500 a month."

"No. Fuck no. I can barely afford this healthy llama diet."

He smiled "We can talk about surgery."

"Yeah...NO. No surgery." I shook my head " I CAN wipe my own ass. I am not a giant whale. And surgery does not fix the fact that everything tastes delicious. Surgery doesn't fix anything. It stalls it.    Fatties gan be fat.    If you shrink my stomach by force I guarantee I will loose weight and stretch that bitch back out."

He nodded "Do you know why people lose so much weight when they have surgery?"

"Because they literally CANNOT eat anything?"
"Correct. They starve their bodies almost to death. And that is not healthy."

I sighed.

"My advice is Weight watchers. It is the best. Have you tried that?"

 I nodded. "Of course. I am fat. All fatties try weight watchers."

"Well what about that then."

"I will think about it. About all of this." I murmured as I stood up.

I shook his hand, thanked him for his extensive time and left the same way that I came in. Glaring at the fucking scale and wanting some pizza.