Diary of a Fat Girl

Who’s Life Is It Anyway?

Diary of a Fat Girl – Day 8

I read an article about Drew Carey and his awesome weight loss earlier today. I’m not a fan of Drew, but I love watching Who’s Line Is It Anyway?, an improv comedy in which he hosted the American version. Since Bob Barker’s departure from the Price Is Right, Drew had stepped in with his own comical twist to the legendary game show. 

The article stated that Drew had lost an impressive 70 pounds, and his motivation was that he was “…sick of being fat”. Can you imagine waking up one morning, looking at yourself in the mirror, and finally deciding that this was the day to stop being fat? It amazes me that more and more people realize what being overweight is doing to their bodies. 

With all that weight gain, your back starts to ache, you feel more tired than usual, and you start having difficulty breathing because of the pressure on your lungs. Then there are the increased risks of heart disease, diabetes, and cancer. Your life span had already been shortened just by adding on the pounds.

The one thing that stuck out the most in this article was Drew Carey’s statement.

“My fiancee has a 5-year-old, and wow, I’d love to see him graduate. I’d love to play with him without getting tired, enjoy my life and watch him grow.”

How is that for inspiration? 

Prioritizing your love for your family and friends over the next donut is what I have been learning about lately. My focus and intent have always been on the potential of carrying a baby in my womb. However, working at a life insurance company has made me realize that life is fleeting. This occurs daily when I pull another death claim file for our member service representatives. It breaks my heart that this daily mundane task comes with the heartache of another family suffering the loss of their loved one.

We often fail to see the impact of our lives on others and tend to forget how our friends and family might react to our untimely demise. My reminder is the death of my mother-in-law, Judith Elliott. She died at an astonishing 450 pounds last year, and she would have turned 60 yesterday. 

I recall, painfully, how I felt about her passing. I had only known her for a few short years, but it was a tragedy to lose such a kind-hearted and charitable woman. She kept her family together and taught her boys decency and moral values. As a result, these boys grew up to be respectable men working hard to care for their families and place family values above anything else.

Today, I am 35. Suppose I never see 60 because I failed to care for my health. In that case, I may never see my children have grandchildren who grow up, graduate from college, get married, and have their own children. I plan to be that old lady in my rocking chair with a house full of cats that the neighborhood children are frightened enough to call me a witch.

I laugh at that because this is how I see my life. This was my vision of Richie and me growing old together, which confirmed my decision to marry him. We plan to grow old together, wrinkled, nearly blind, hard of hearing, walking with a cane, and teasing each other.

“Hand me that blanket. I’m cold,” I would say.

“What? You’re old,” Richie would remark.

“No. I’m cold, as in ice!”

“You’re old, and you have mice?” 

“Turn your damn hearing aid up, you old fart!”

“Well, if you got to fart, then fart!”

“I called you an… Oh, never mind!” I would say as I threw my hands up while quietly rejoicing in my husband’s laughter.

I want to see my stepdaughters graduate. I want to watch Laura as she matures into a fine young veterinarian working for the ASPCA and Danielle finally settling down in the field of her choice. I want to give them the baby brother they desire and watch him grow up into a fine young man. I want to see the joy on Richie’s face when he sees his son for the first time. I want to cry at my children’s weddings and spoil my grandchildren. I want to watch my nephew, Devon, become an NFL football star and continue to spoil my other three nephews. Like in the Notebook, I want to curl up next to my husband after a long and healthy life and pass away together, silently and happily in the night.

By the way, is it me, or does Drew’s new look resemble Bob Barker’s?