Morbidly Obese

Who?  What?!  What does that mean?  Let’s break it down. 

The easily accessible online dictionary gives this definition:

Morbid - characterized by or appealing to an abnormal and unhealthy interest in disturbing and unpleasant subjects, especially death and disease.

Obese - grossly fat or overweight. 

Well, damn.

My definition states that "Morbidly = could lead to death." 

According to Cleveland Clinic, Morbidly Obese means “Class III obesity, formerly known as morbid obesity, is a complex chronic condition in which a person has a body mass index of 40 or higher.” At what point did it become complex? or chronic?  To me, that means there is no easy way to reverse this condition.

Ok, so if my BMI is 55, then I’m in like, class 4 or 5 obesity?  How do I get back to class 1 or 2?  And when and how did I advance from these lower classes?  I had learned to ignore BMI after learning that it was calculated based on white bodies and cultural norms by a group of weight loss stakeholders and one physician.  I didn’t think it mattered, until it did.  Last year, my husband and I decided it was time to get our affairs in order for the sake of our children and for each other.  We decided to get life insurance.  I was denied life insurance policies five times purely because of my BMI.  I wanted to donate a kidney to my husband who is in kidney failure.  I was denied for no other reason except that my BMI was too high.  Well, hell, I guess BMI  matters.

    I remember thinking I was extremely overweight when I weighed 200 pounds.  After a lengthy toxic dating relationship where we bonded over food, 10 years later, that weight shot up to 300.  When someone gives an example of a really really big person, they use numbers like 300 or 400 pounds.  That used to seem huge, at least in my mind it was.  I remember when I got on the scale and was 320 pounds.  I was pregnant and I assumed most of the weight was baby weight.  Alas, no one has given birth to a 150 pound baby, but I digress.  It seemed like nothing I tried would lose the weight. WW, Slim fast, water pills, apple cider vinegar, phentermine, protein shakes, keto, hcg, Noom, jogging, walking, swimming, more meat, less meat, less sugar, fewer carbs, meditation, therapy, trainers and gym memberships.  I would lose inches, but the scale did not budge. 

    For ten years, my body has been happiest around 320 pounds.  I can run, dance, play with my kids, make love with my husband, and do all the things healthy adults enjoy doing.  But still, 320 pounds.  I remember when I stood on the scale, which I seldom did, and usually when invited/coerced to do so by a physician or  nurse, and the scale read 337.  The devil is a lie!  I swore that I would never ever reach 340.     I returned to my tried and true exercise, keto and getting rest and water.  I moved to a warmer climate and walked daily.  My body was happy to settle back around 320 pounds.  At this point, and I still didn’t realize the weight of the hundreds of pounds I was carrying.  I “didn’t look that heavy!”   I looked good and sexy, and confident and I could, with a tight pulling in of my tummy, look straight down and see my lady parts (that’s how I measured if my weight was still under control.)

I still did not know my BMI because it didn’t matter and I don’t voluntarily do math.  I certainly did not realize I was considered Morbidly Obese.  Just writing the words turns my stomach with shame and guilt.  Why is that, I wonder.