“Two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun!”
I love Big Macs! When McDonald’s runs their two for one specials, I’m the first in line. The Wendy’s Double with cheese also pleases my taste buds. Burger King’s Double Meat Whopper has a unique taste as it soaks up the juice of the mayonnaises and tomato slices and brings euphoria to the senses. Five Guys fries great burgers right in front of you so there’s no question about freshness or microwave re-heating. Culver’s (a Midwest chain) offers a melt in your mouth Pork Tenderloin sandwich reminiscent of those cooked in the 60’s. Sonic’s recent revival of hot dog delicacies makes chili dogs a treat once again. Hardee’s offers the “Big Burgers” and the Swiss ‘N Mushrooms needs no add-ons. Devour the sandwich and lick up the mushroom gravy afterwards, it’s too good to toss in the trash! Kentucky Fried Chicken’s Extra Crispy offerings makes the phrase “It tastes like chicken” an understatement! Add fries and drink to these offerings and it’s a complete meal. Or, is it?
In 2004, a movie entitled, “Super Size Me” was released. The documentary provided a 30 day look at an experiment involving eating nothing but McDonald’s menu offerings. By the end of thirty days, a substantial weight gain, increased cholesterol and sugar levels and a general feeling of depression were present, .
Most of us ignored the message presented us by that film. So much so, we are still the most obese nation in the world. Our fast food addiction is one of the major reasons!
Keep Eating And Be Like Me!
In 2007, I decided to do something about my weight. It had blossomed to 260 pounds, which wouldn’t be bad if I was a muscular 6’6”. However, at just under 6’, you couldn’t tell if I was standing or sitting. I was just one blob of fat in the middle of a room.
So, I devised a diet that would work for me. I called it, “The Mind Over Matter” diet. The philosophy was we all eat too much. As youngsters, our parents conditioned us to eat everything on our plates, whether we were hungry or not. With portion size increasing, both at home and at restaurants, we still follow these instructions.
What followed was a strict regiment of asking myself if I was still hungry before putting every bite in my mouth. When I couldn’t honestly answer “Yes” to the question, I’d put down my fork and push the plate away.
After four months, I had lost 60 pounds of unattractive fat, and my head was still attached to my body! I felt better, could move better, and had more energy. And, I believed I had made myself much healthier.
Instead, as some doctors will agree, losing that amount of weight that quickly can cause problems. I had disposed of a lot of my visible fat. But, in doing so, had moved some into my blood vessels and arteries. As a result, blood platelets had collected against a fat module and formed a clot. This had shifted and found its way to a rear artery of the heart, where it lodged itself., creating 100% blockage of that artery.
Immediately, I experienced the impact of being punched in the back (right between my shoulder blades). Then, another hit, and still another. Intensity too great for a back spasm, yet, I couldn’t imagine it being anything else!
They continued, one after another, taking me off my feet to my knees. All of my strength deserting me, I first dropped my forehead to the carpet for support, followed soon by a complete surrender as I lay on my side. Noticing my right arm had lost all feeling , it suddenly came to me that I was experiencing a dreaded heart attack.
I fought the agony and crawled slowly to the bathroom. Articles viewed in the past had stated aspirin could save a person in my desperate situation. This was my quest, my goal. However, upon arriving and opening the drawer, I found a new battle awaiting me. Instantly, I tackled the problem of opening the child proof bottle top with only one operational hand. This was accomplished by wedging the bottle between my body and right arm and using my body weight to hold it tight as my left hand fumbled with the lid.
I can’t tell you how long it took as time was moving at a sloth‘s pace. In and out of consciousness, I recall coming to on the floor with aspirin scattered on the bath mat beside me. I frantically grabbed at them and swallowed two or three before succumbing to the pain and entering the darkness.
It was my wife that came to my rescue. Entering the house after working all day, she found the bathroom door shut. With no knowledge of what had transpired, she had waited ten minutes before coming to the door and asking if I was alright. Getting no answer, she opened the door to find me sprawled on the floor.
I remember the ambulance attendant saying, “It’s kind of tight in here, you’re going to have to help me get you up.” (Yeah, like I had any ability to move any part of my body.) I hadn’t been so helpless since receiving a bite by a Cape Cobra while in South Africa many years before. It’s neurotoxins had paralyzed my bodily functions and I had technically died enroute to the hospital. (Miraculously awakening three days later on life support.)
The doors to the ambulance were slammed shut and a mask slipped over the bottom half of my face. The attendant stuck an IV in a vein on top of my left hand. However, as he turned away to grab a clipboard, his knee hit the needle and ripped it away. What seemed minutes later, he put down the clipboard, jabbed the IV into my right hand and bandaged the injury.
Next, came his personal information questions. I answered immediately, but he shouted to the driver,
“I’m getting no response!”
I answered again. Seeming to ignore this, he repeated the questions. Thinking that the mask could be muffling my volume, I answered even louder.
“Still no response” was shouted again!
“What a dumb ass” came quickly to mind! I raised my good arm, pushed the mask away and said, “I’ve answered your damn questions three times already! Get the crap out of your ears!”
“I’m getting a response” was quickly shouted to the driver. “Now put that mask back on. There’s pure oxygen coming through it!”
“There’s nothing coming through it! You‘re trying to kill me, you jerk!”
He turned, reached up, and flipped a switch on a chrome panel. I felt the coolness of the air as it began to flow against my face. Then, a return to darkness
I regained consciousness twice more. A doctor was asking for my verbal permission to allow my wife to sign papers. I remember responding, “Regretably, yes!”, automatically trying to be funny. Next, a doctor was saying, “We now have you hooked up to our monitoring equipment. We’ll be able to see what’s ….“ (blah, blah, blah, Charlie Brown’s parents). I stopped listening to him when, in the background, a tone held steady and a nurse stated, “He’s gone!” Then, darkness.
I awoke seven hours later to my wife’s face, as well as, my oldest daughter’s and son-in-law’s, staring down upon me. Their expressions were filled with worry and concern.
“What, are you sorry I’m not dead? Shouldn’t you guys be smiling?” I whispered with all my strength in an attempt to again be funny. They didn’t smile. I was unaware that I had been technically dead for the second time in my life. All I knew was I was back and only wanted to see smiles.
For days, I was under morphine injections. At my request, my wife brought in my I-Pod so I could take advantage of the drug’s positive side and listen to some old Pink Floyd and Jimi Hendrix selections. (“Once a rocker….”)
Lacking the strength of a newborn, I also had plenty of time to analyze. “What had caused this to happen?” and “What could I do to prevent a repeat event?” were questions contemplated.
Upon exiting my hospital stay, I made a decision to watch what I ate. Unfortunately, it lasted as long as most New Year’s resolutions.
Taking a position as a District Manager, I found myself staying in hotels at least four nights a week. This allowed for a lifestyle of no breakfast, a quick burger for lunch and overeating at night. This became the norm. Slowly but surely my weight returned.
I started feeling exhausted in the middle of the day. Double vision and a ringing in my ears became constant companions. I found myself going into blank stares at a computer screen as passwords took time to recollect.
Looking back, the job and the little free time it allowed had led me to acquire very poor eating habits. I knew better, but staying in some stores until closing left only fast food offerings to partake afterwards. Thus, the weight had returned and brought a new ailment to deal with.
Type 2 Diabetes was the diagnosis. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been as my daily readings varied from 125-154, but it was still present. A pill a day was prescribed to get it under control.
My Vow To Fast Food
To the fast food industry:
“I love your burgers, your fries, and everything else! My brain worships the tastes you provide! But I‘ve learned my lesson!
But my body has to say “NO” to renewing our relationship. You’ve hurt me twice before and I’d be a fool to let it happen again. I’m losing weight slowly, the right way this time. Exercise, moderation, and quality versus quantity are the answers.
Our divorce is final. I can’t return!”
A Final Note
My story is told. I recognize my faults and don’t shift blame. I’m just hoping that someone will listen and not make the same mistakes.
Here’s to your future and mine!
How Often Do You Eat Fast Food?
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