Doughnuts?

Is it wrong to assume a continental breakfast will be included at a bariatric weight loss informational clinic? I mean, it's early in the morning, last for a few hours, and is a way to recruit paying customers. Sadly, out of the 12 obese souls I sat with in a bleak conference room somewhere in the bowels of Mercy hospital, I was the only one who didn't bring substance to get through two hours in a meeting.

Nary a stale bagel in site, I had to satisfy my growling belly with an entire box of tic tacs. At least they were one calorie each, so really they are diet food... right?

What I did learn is that I am clinicly obese, at a 12x more likely risk to die of heart disease than my still-skinny sorority sisters who I shared clothes with a decade ago, and your mouth goes numb on consecutive Tic Tac #46.

I also learned that obesity is something we can fight daily - in our every choice, action, and decision. The lost souls around me seemed to not get the message, as each of them had quite a staggering array of Mountain Dew, Little Debbies, salty corn chips, and various King-sized chocolate goodies stashed in pockets, purses, and actually, I'm not quite sure where the older gentleman kept his arsenal, and really, I'd rather not know.

The main point that the surgeon made me take note of is that you have to have a support system. A person who loves you who will support you throughout the weight loss journey. I knew my husband was that person - he is strong, smart, motivated, and my biggest fan. Fantastic!

I went home with a lot of questions in my head, swirling around and causing confusion and chaos that happens as new life-changing information can only do. Racing in the door the dog greeted me with a jump on my chest, knock down of the purse, and a lick to the crotch. Love you too, pooch.

"Mr! I'm back!" I quietly yelled (if you can quietly yell) down the stairs, as it was the most wonderful time of the day - nap time! No one answered so I did a quick look around the upstairs, kitchen, and backyard only to realize he had to be downstairs. NCAA tourney blasting, a Miller Lite empty (or two) on the coffee table, and the Mac with multiple windows pulled up.

"Hey. Did you fill up the car? I noticed it was low," came from behind the Mac.

"Of course. I have so much information to go over with you. Lots of decisions to make."

"Hmmmm. Where'd you go again?"

"Bariatric Weight Loss Meeting. At Mercy."

"Oh yeah. How'd it go?"

"Interesting. Gotta sort some things out."

"Okay. I 'm going to lay down for a bit and reenergize. The kids wore me OUT!"

So maybe it's time to rethink this support person?