"Faith, I want to discuss your lab results with you. Your blood sugar levels are very elevated and as your doctor, I'm more than a little concerned about Type 2 or what we used to call 'adult-onset' diabetes."
"But I'm only 26. Isn't that something that happens to people over 50?" she asked not wanting to admit yet again she had a problem.
"I've been your doctor since you were three years old, and I love you like my own daughter," the doctor told her. "I know your weight is a very sensitive issue for you, but there's a very direct, positive correlation between obesity and Type 2 diabetes. And once you have it, there's no known cure for it. If it happens, you'll need medication and/or insulin therapy the rest of your life. Your late father was a Type 1 diabetic so I know you know the dangers."
"I can't lose weight," Faith said knowing deep down she'd never really tried.
She'd loved to eat for as long as she could remember, and for most of her life, food had been her only comfort. That had been particularly true when her father passed away indirectly due to a lifetime of battling diabetes and its related complications. She knew full well the risks of being so overweight and the dangers associated with it.
Because blood flows to every part of one's body, the effects of high blood sugar can result in a number of health problems. People with diabetes who have high blood pressure, high cholesterol, or both, increase their risk of developing complications, like heart disease and stroke. Too much sugar in the blood wreaks havoc on the body's capillaries, and the areas where they were concentrated like fingers, toes, the eyes, and the heart were most at risk.
"I believe you can lose weight, Faith," the doctor told her. "We have some promising results with several new medications which can reduce appetite and coupled with diet and exercise...."
"I hate exercise," she said not so much out of anger but rather sheer frustration.
Faith Palmer was indeed just 26 years old. She was also 5'7" and weighed well over 200 pounds. She lived with her mother, Karen, and had only been on two dates in her life—both of them sympathy dates arranged by her mom. At 26, she was still waiting for her first kiss. No, that wasn't true. She'd essentially given up on that first kiss or ever having a boyfriend, let alone a husband. And most of the time, she was okay with that. As long as she had her best friend to comfort her day and night.
At one time, she'd kept track of how many calories she ate each day as part of one in an endless string of new diets. She knew the daily total was often over 5,000. She was also very aware she should be eating around 1,500-1,600, the amount she typically ate per meal. Just the thought of living like that caused her tremendous fear and anxiety.
Yes, her eating...her over-eating, was an addiction, and Faith was well aware that addictions were harmful. And now, for the first time, she had actual evidence that what she was doing to herself was harming her. And yet the thought of making changes—any changes—where food was involved, scared the hell out of her.
"Your mom's insurance will pay for portions of this, Faith, but only until you turn 27 in six months. At that point, you'll have to have your own insurance."
Faith had never had a job either, because the taunting followed her everywhere she went with the exception of her home. Therefore, staying home was the only place where she felt totally safe.
"That includes the medication and a dietitian and/or personal trainer to work with you. But you will have to want to be healthy more than you want to eat. I hate being so blunt with you, sweetheart, but you are truly at the crossroads. You're such a beautiful girl and you don't need to be thin to be any prettier. But you do need to lose weight to be healthy. So I'm going to write you a prescription for two different medications and give you a list of dietitians to work with. You can call them and ask questions before choosing the one you like the most."
Faith stopped counting the number of times she'd been told she had a pretty face and that if she'd just lose—20, 30, 50, and now 80 or 90 pounds, she'd be beautiful. She really did have an amazing smile and beautiful eyes, but her face was so large it quite literally...swallowed...everything else inside it. In her most honest moments, she knew the size of her cheeks squished things up so tightly it wasn't a stretch say she did almost look like a p.... She couldn't say the word, even to herself, but she knew it was true.
"Okay, I'll try," she said half-heartedly knowing the only thing she wanted to do was stop and order a double cheeseburger with onion rings and a large chocolate shake to hold her over until she got home. Of course, she'd use the drive-thru to avoid being seen except for those two brief moments when she had to pay for and then take the food. It was rare for an employee to say anything, but she'd gotten plenty of looks of disgust over the years even from them.
To her horror, the pharmacy's drive-thru service was out of order, and that meant going inside—something she truly dreaded. As she stood in line at the pharmacy, she could feel it. Every eye was either looking or staring at her, and it was only a matter of time until someone said something.
Faith had heard it all over the years from calls of 'sooey' to things as awful as, "Check out that blimp with feet, man!" or "Yo! Save a whale, harpoon a fat chick!" Those were just a few from the hall-of-shame taunts she'd heard from boys in school or other public places.
But it wasn't the boys who were the worst. It was the girls by far. They weren't direct like the boys. They just tore her apart one tiny piece at a time through neglect by omitting her from every party or plan they made. So once again, food had been there for her. No mocking. No teasing. Just delicious, tasty, scrumptious...food.
Somehow, she managed to make it out of the pharmacy with both prescriptions without hearing a single negative comment.
"Thank God for small favors," she said as she squeezed in behind the wheel and stretched the seat belt to its maximum length to get it around her.
She opened the bottles and took one of each as directed washing them down with the rest of a two-liter bottle of soda sitting in the car. It was warm and disgusting, but Faith never let food or sugary soft drinks go to waste.
Somehow, and it had taken every bit of willpower she had, she drove right by three of her favorite fast food restaurants on her way home. Those who'd never suffered the agony of an addiction to food—the one thing we can't completely quit consuming and live—couldn't possibly understand the sadness she felt at not stopping to buy herself something to eat. It was as though she was denying herself the most enjoyable thing on earth. To most people, it was just a cheeseburger. To Faith, it was...life itself. She was ignoring her best friend, and the sadness she felt was as real as the enormous amount of fat that girdled her body.
As she pulled into the garage, she turned off the engine, then sat there and started to cry. She was so sick of it all. At some level, she just wanted to lower the garage door, turn the car back on, and go to sleep.
On another, she was becoming angry. Really, really angry. Angry at herself for letting this happen and angry at the world for being so cruel to people who were overweight. People like her—fat people—the morbidly obese.
As she sat there and sobbed, she recalled a particularly cruel comment from a boy in high school. "Faith doesn't have an eating problem. Uh-uh. Oh, no. Not her. She sees food, she picks it up, she shovels it into her pie hole, and swallows it—no problem!"
The other kids roared with laughter and even now, some 10 years later, it hurt just as much as it had back then.
"Fuck them and fuck THIS!" she swore out loud, something she rarely ever did.
She looked at her round face in the mirror, dried her eyes, grabbed her medication and the empty soda bottle, and went inside. She tossed the bottle in the recycle bin, put the medication in the cupboard, then started looking at names on the list of approved dietitians. With each passing minute, her anger grew and with the anger came something completely new to her. Something she couldn't name but felt in an overpowering way.
When her mother got home from work, Faith shared everything that had happened starting with the lab results and ending with the list of dietitians. Her mom tried to be supportive, but like her daughter, she was battling an addiction of her own. Karen Palmer rarely ate anything, but she never went more than a few hours without her best friend—alcohol. Or more specifically, vodka.
After looking through the list of names, they settled on a woman named RoseAnna and gave her a call.
For the first time she could ever remember, Faith didn't feel like eating. It wasn't the medication. That took time to work. It was the anger and the disgust and something else she couldn't yet name. She forced herself to eat a piece of fruit and drink part of a bottle of water as she looked at articles about the right way to start an exercise program. Satisfied she had some minimal idea of what to do, she watched several You Tube videos, one of which blew her mind.
She watched a girl who'd kept track of her progress using a camcorder go from 253 pounds to 125 in a year and nine months—without gastric bypass or any other surgical procedure. The before and after pictures initially made her cry as she told herself that could never happen to her.
And then she got angry again. Angry enough that she said out loud, "Why not me? Why can't that be me? What's so special about her anyway?" At the very end of the video one word filled the screen and it stuck with Faith like nothing ever had. It read: DETERMINATION!
In spite of what she'd read and watched, Faith realized she had no idea how to do what this other girl had done. But now, between the medications and the dietitian, she had the necessary tools to try. It was painfully clear to her that she and she alone would have to provide the determination. As she fell asleep her greatest fear was that her determination wouldn't outlast the next morning, and that fear only strengthened her determination even more.
