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But I'm ENTITLED to it!

By Gloria Diaz

Check out Gloria's Blog — Edge of Gloria!

Fort Wayne Reader

2012-05-03

There’s no shortage of huge people in the Midwest. I myself am fat, and I’m tired of seeing the fat rolls. But I am NOT morbidly obese. And three of the four people I used to hang out with two or three times a year are morbidly obese. Well, just make that two people. Because one of them died last September. At the age of 43.

I’ve fought the battle of the bulge for years. I’m tired of being fat, but I’m trying to work on my body. I walk my dog three to five times a week. In the past couple of months or so, I’ve been hitting the gym after I’m done with my workday. Scaling back my work life was one of the best things I’ve done. I work four jobs now instead of three, but all of them are part time. I have a more set schedule, something I didn’t have when I was working full time at one job and working two part time jobs. I have consistent bedtimes, and consistent wake up times, at least during the week. I have more time for myself, but more importantly, I have time to work out. So I’m up to doing a half hour on the treadmill, and I’m lifting weights and doing core toning for 20-30 minutes.

I’m working on my body because I’m scared. When my friend died last September, it scared me. He weighed around 400 pounds, and I’m nowhere near that, but it showed me what happens when you abuse your body for years. I watched my friend suffer, and watched him say, “I don’t like living like this, I’m going to change.” Then, shortly after this declaration, he’d say, “I’m going to order a pizza.”

It was frustrating to watch. And even though I need to lose weight, seeing obese people is really starting to bug me. You probably think I have no right to talk; maybe you’re right. But consider this: earlier this year I went skiing with someone from work. I love downhill skiing, but not one of my friends would go skiing with me. I didn’t even ask. It was by chance that I mentioned skiing to my co-worker, who said we should just take a day and go. So we did. We had a great time, and it was one of the rare moments that I could feel myself smiling spontaneously. The funny thing is, the guy I went skiing with is in his early sixties. That’s right. He’s near retirement age, but he can ski for five hours without keeling over with a heart attack.

But the thing that really bothers me is people who are so undisciplined when it comes to food that they think the government should support them. Isn’t this part of wasteful government spending? Listen, if you are against government help in any form, don’t take it. But if you are a staunch conservative, and think the government should support you, you are a damn hypocrite. Yes, they argue that they paid into the system, and now they are entitled to that money. People who paid into the system are also entitled to whatever help they can get, but interestingly enough, it’s the whole “me first, none for you” approach. I took a full time job in retail just to get full time wages and, perhaps most importantly, insurance so I could take care of a tumor in my uterus which was the size of a cantaloupe. It was pushing on both my colon and bladder, which meant any large-sized drinks necessitated a bathroom visit — or five. I couldn’t get anything done about my tumor until I got insurance.

However, morbidly obese people on Medicaid have decent insurance, and the parade of health problems that show up when one weighs enough for two or three people means that they can get help. That means they can perpetuate their unhealthy lifestyles, courtesy of the government, until they die in their early forties. And the taxpayers get to foot the bill.

Don’t believe me? In the book, Generation Debt, a woman, Ida May Fuller, paid $24.75 into Social Security when the program started. She retired and lived another thirty five years, and collected nearly $29,000 in benefits. That’s one hell of a return on investment. But hey, she paid into it, right?

I don’t know what the solution is. I truly feel sorry for people who were born with a disability — blindness, deafness. Or if you were in a terrible accident. Things like that I can understand. But unless there is really something wrong with your thyroid, or metabolism, or something, I don’t have a lot of sympathy for people who weigh enough for two or three people. Because I know why you are so fat. It’s the same reason why I’m fat. We both enjoy eating high calorie foods, and we don’t get enough exercise. But at least I’m making an effort to exercise. And I will do that for as long as I possibly can. Because I fear one day I’ll be looking in the mirror, wondering how I got to be four feet wide. And I fear sitting around at home, with my disability check, watching bad daytime television, and wondering how much time I have left, until the taxpayers don’t have to foot my bill anymore.