My fat (but actually very normal-sized) legs
Almost a year ago, I mentioned some good news about weight gain. Recall that I was starvation-level underweight just two years ago for a variety of health reasons, and also that I cannot just step on any old scale and balance on my pegs to see what's up, so checking my weight requires a clinic appointment and a rather amusing trek down the hall, out of the clinic and into the adjoining hospital to borrow an empty room with a bed that can weigh me. My primary, a couple nurses, a parent or two (and possibly some intrigued bystanders), watch as I transfer to the bed and we all discuss how many pillows and shoes will make the measurement inaccurate. Okay, there's no reason you'd ever recall the details of that last, but anyway, trust me when I say that checking my weight is An Event.
I am a little over 5 feet 11 inches tall and in November of 2005 I weighed less than 75 pounds. Then I got the feeding tube, and also the trach and vent. All three have contributed to my weight gain. The first in the obvious way, but the trach and vent help me get enough air so that eating isn't such breathless work. When I last got weighed this past spring, I was a joyful, thrilling 125 pounds. That is the most, by far, that I have ever, ever weighed.
And it feels good. I quit with the feeding tube liquid nutrients by night in hopes of not gaining too much and making it harder to transfer myself. And while I never eat much. I do eat all. the. time. It will be a gray day when my cholesterol finally forces me to eat like a responsible adult.
Image description: A color photo of the first day of kindergarten for me and my twin. We're standing in the front yard wearing identical homemade dresses with red plaid miniskirts and skinny stick legs. We have blonde bowl-cut hair and are squinting into the sun. And yes, those index cards pinned to our fronts are a cruel and humorless joke of my soulless mother: they have our names, homerooms, addresses and returning bus number printed boldly on them in case we got lost and were too stricken with the adventure of it all to utter our own names. Can you guess which one is me? My twin is barred from answering first.
I was a skinny child, and for most of my adult life I've probably weighed about 110 pounds. (Remember muscle weighs most and I don't have the ability to maintain and build that well.) I've always been skinny, with stick legs. I've gotten jealousy from other women and admiration from men for my underweight, weak-muscled thinness.
Image description: A color photo of me sitting in my scooter in a mall food court in Arizona, circa 1992. I am expressing my disapproval of impromptu photo ops with a sober look. I'm wearing a baggy white t-shirt to hide my scrawny arms and bony collarbone, but I'm also wearing a yellow flowered miniskirt and thong sandals because slim (bony) legs get compliments. I've cropped my Dad out, by the way, though he's wearing an identical expression.
And I've sort of been in awe of how my legs have changed in the past couple years. For the past year, every day, when I see them, I find myself thinking, "Whoa! There they are." Sometimes I think, "Chubby! I am actually chubby!" Sometimes I'm grateful for their relative strength. Sometimes I think, "Wow, I'm a bit fat."
I am totally not fat. I've been trying, these past months, to determine how much of my reaction is to the impressive change in my legs and weight, and how much is social conditioning about body image and what "fat" looks like. I can't separate it out. Most of us can't: you can check yourself on that by looking at Kate Harding's study of BMI classifications at Shakesville.
The above two photos are of my past skinniness. I don't have a photo of my legs as they are now and I'll give you a few days to imagine before I get around to that. They're no longer skinny and they'll never be muscularly toned, but they're also not at all fat. Even if I sometimes think that when looking down at them.
Question for all: Above, in paragraph two, when I mention "my weight gain" after having explained it was healthy and necessary, are you like me and still automatically think "weight gain" = "bad"? The word association is strong.
12 comments:
No, I learned to think "weight gain" can = "good news" with my son, whose every ounce of gain is to be celebrated (I'd arrange brass bands if I could, he'd dig that too). At age 12, he's flirting with 40 lbs (on almost four feet of height), but the most we've managed to see on a doctor's scale is 39lbs. 12oz.--so close! For him, that four ounces could be a year's gain, and it's wiped out with one bad stomach flu. He's prone to dehydrate so quickly, and he doesn't have a g-tube, so we're always keeping track (informally, except when he's been ill).
Oh, and I've got a picture of my sister and myself in matching homemade dresses at about the same age, I should send it to you by email. We're not twins, but close in age, and with (yes) rhyming names. I think I still have my pinned-on index card for the first day of Kindergarten too--my mother was a saver.
Yeah that programming is pretty hard to kick but I am glad you have gained some healthy weight in your legs. The BMI is bogus - studies have shown that most females athletes in certain age groups have disordered eating yet due to exercise they will never have a "unhealthy" BMI - even though they totally strip the calcium from their bones. So no, not a big fan on of the BMI - and not a big fan of inner voices but I am glad you are celebrating your legs!
Count me in as another person who's broken the "weight gain=bad" programming after watching a friend struggle with and (mostly) recover from anorexia.
That, and my own realization as a teenager that when I gained weight, it was my biceps becoming more masculine (note: *more* masculine, not masculine - they're still pretty scrawny) that caused the change.
No fair on the pic twinner!
But hint to the others, I'm the chubby one, I'm still chubby.
As for the weight issue if I could lose a hunderd lbs, I would, any at all would be great. I fight gaining since I am so heavy, no I don't look it, but I am overweight even with a large and dense bone structure. I watch what I eat, exercise (not as much as I wish) and am careful about the sweets too. And still have a hard time. Personally I think society is screwed up on thinness and women.
When I was five-years-old I became aware of weight issues. I remember my mother making 'diet milkshakes' for us--skim milk, banana, half a bottle of sacharrine...(sugar would've been a lot healthier). To this day I still weigh myself every morning (after voiding bladder/removing ring). It is deeply ingrained, and when I see the term 'weight gain', it automatically has a negative connotation. Glad it's not actually the case...
(1) I am scrupulously not reading other comments first so that my guess will be honest. I think you're the lefthand twin -- lefthand from the viewer's perspective. And goodness don't the two of you look adorable! And gad, those cards are hilarious.
(2) No, whenever I hear you've gained weight I'm happy for you. That is my first thought. Twenty years ago I might have had the response you describe, though, no matter who was talking. That is some tough conditioning to dump, no joke.
(3) What is it with the freakin' camera-happy? You do look peevish in this picture. Why do people who love us want to record us looking peevish? Why? Why? If someone glares at you when you whip out your camera, isn't that a clue to put it away?
Yeah, I'm still stuck on that. ;) Now I'm going to go see if there are clues above.
As a male, I tend to think weight gain being preceived as "bad" is an issue for women. Of course men worry about gaining weight but there is not the same tyranny of thinness women are subjected to. I have not been on scale since I was 18 years old--the last time I walked. Thus I got a great kick out of Kay's description of getting weighed. It sure is hard to find a scale and when you do it is a major production to figure out how to use it. I remain blissfully unaware of my weight.
Penny: You had the index card too? I feel a bit better now.
Elizabeth: To clarify, I've gained weight all over, but because mirror-gazing at the other parts of my body involves a level of vanity I can't summon up in the same degree as I used to when I did all my bathroom/hygiene work alone, I spend less time looking in the mirror. Legs are easiest to observe on yourself without a mirror. And the change is most dramatic there, I guess.
The BMI is bogus. When my brother was trying to get into officer training for the Marine Corps, he had to starve muscle off to make the weight qualification. He looked like he'd been ill when he got into qualifying range.
ismith: Yes, observing anorexia is a real wake-up call to reality too.
Karen: I don't think there is a chubby one in that picture. We look about the same.
Sophie: I'm always surprised at how many many people had parents who pushed the diet idea in their young children. They're brainwashed, too, of course, but it surprises me nonetheless.
Sara: (1)I'll comment later tonight as to which one is me in the pic.
(2)No joke, indeed.
(3)I'm stuck on it too, and frankly, still a bit peevish about it all.
William: Yes, a huge production. I'm glad you enjoyed the description: that particular spectacle usually involves participants who mostly all get how silly it is, so I don't mind it much. Other spectacles I can do without.
Can you guess which one is me?
As you look at the pic, Karen is on the left. I am the little dork on the right.
Gah, you are so cute in that picture! Those dresses! Those knobby knees! I could die.
Because I've seen you IRL and remember you as being very thin, I didn't associate weight gain with bad in this post, but I do see what you mean and in most cases I likely would. At any rate, I'm glad to hear you've had some weight gain--that's exciting.
That 1992 picture is too great. You look like Hilary Swank. When she was on 90210. It's priceless.
Ah, I was sooooo wrong! ha ha ha ha ha
Yes, I still have that knee-jerk reaction, even after praying for hundredths of ounces of weight gain in my own little infant just a few years ago. Now, already, I find myself watching her weight to try to determine how much of her little round belly is due to low muscle tone and how much is extra fat from too much pizza. At the same time, I can be judgemental about my sister's husband, who tries to get her to stop feeding their 10-month-old whenever he thinks she's had enough, even if the baby is still obviously happy to be eating, because he thinks she's "too fat."
But in my head, the very young are different from the nearly grown, and all weight gain in adult women is bad, even though I have a sister who's battled an eating disorder.
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