The Morning After

Wow! Yesterday sure was a momentous day for kenneth in the (212). After more than 1,000 posts that have included everything from race, religion and politics to books, movies and Colin Farrell's uncut c**k, nothing has provoked such a response as the dreaded "F" word. What was intended to be a call for personal responsibility turned into a heated debate about obesity.

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. With the so-called health industry raking in billions of dollars each year, FAT is clearly a national obsession. Yet it was amazing to hear how defensive passionate people were about the subject. (BTW: Anyone who knows me realizes the real reason I wrote the post was to prove to the person who left the first comment that they were wrong in thinking I must have been fat as a child!)

I found it interesting that not a single person came forward in defense of smoking and smokers' rights. What's up with that? Smoking is perfectly legal. Is it because it's a choice people make -- albeit one that is an addictive behavior -- that we all know would be in everyone's best interest for them not to? (Ring any bells?) Same thing could be said for the other examples I wrote about -- yet no one defended gambling or drinking; and what about shopping?

I especially loved the exchange between James and Kristen. James thinks I've taken a complicated issue and "made it all about me." If James only knew! I'm the kind of person who goes out to eat and if the waiter doesn't bring me my food, I'd rather pay the bill and leave than have to tell him he'd forgotten to bring it. There's nothing that I like better than avoiding a confrontation -- so why on god's green earth would I want to be put in a position to have to argue with a perfect stranger about following FAA regulations about putting the arm rest down between the seats on an airplane?! It's ludicrous. Kristen really nailed it -- it's the people who have these addictive behaviors that force others into their problem who are "making it all about" them. When you drink and drive and kill someone, it's all about you. When you're walking around the city blowing smoke in everyone else's faces and littering the ground with your cigarette butts, it's all about you. And when you're putting my bf and me in a position to have to ask you to stop breathing heavily down our necks at the Go-Go's concert because you're so fat that you're winded from moving about and gasping for air -- it's all about you. (I'm just minding my own business. Do whatever you want, just leave me out of it!)

As much as my intolerance of addictive behaviors was the gist of yesterday's rant, it might be a good idea to back up a step and reiterate the bigger issue. It's hard for me to be around people who are not willing to help themselves. Show up at my house with cancer and I'll take care of you nonstop for as long as you need me. Get a bad case of the flu and I'll wait on you hand and foot -- and bring you Gatorade and chicken soup. But when there's something wrong that's within your own control, and there's a prescribed solution that you're not willing to try, my sympathy (and tolerance) flies out the window really fast.

A dear loved one of mine has severe anxiety problems and takes medication for it. Earlier this year she became pregnant and was experiencing horrible morning sickness. Suddenly, her pregnancy-induced vomiting was causing her to not be able to keep her medication down, thus creating a double-whammy effect: morning sickness plus in a constant state of panic. I was ready to drop everything to come to her aid when I heard about this (she has another small child to care for while all of this is going on). What a horrible, horrible situation I thought. Then I found out the doctors told her there was a suppository she could take that would eliminate her morning sickness. Cure the morning sickness and she's be able to keep her meds down -- voila! Good as new! Her response? I don't do suppositories. Well, immediately my patience waned -- knowing that she could be well and was choosing not to be.

A friend of mine found out he was HIV positive about two years ago. We were all crushed by the news. Then he came to visit me last fall and appeared to be horribly ill. He told me how his T-cells were just below 200, so he technically had AIDS. Then the staph infection came. And another. And another. I reached out to him, offered whatever assistance I could provide across the country. Then I found out that despite what he'd told me, he actually had never started taking his medication. I immediately tried to talk some sense into him, we repeatedly discussed his options and I offered to put him in touch with a friend who is doing well living with HIV. A year and countless health scares later, he still is refusing to take anything. As more time and more broken promises go by, my patience is shot. Knowing that he could be well and is choosing not to be is just too much for me to handle.

I have other examples, but the bottom line is this: maybe it's just part of who I am, part of my past, that makes it very difficult for me to sit by and watch people not look out for themselves (hello? anyone know the story of my father?). It's not like I'm turning my back on people in crisis; I'm turning my back on people who are inflicting crisis on themselves! I wish I were more patient, more tolerant. But I am trying -- and sometimes I do need to vent my frustrations. As someone pointed out, the occasional fat joke is part of that. (By the way: I love how no one complained when I made a crack about how anorexics couldn't be depressed because they're thin!)

Thanks for indulging me yesterday -- I enjoyed hearing what you all had to say.