Nursing grievance over hypocritical weight loss advice

IWAS told I had to lose weight at my annual medical review this week. Which is fine. Totally acceptable.

I’m still carrying about two stone more baby weight than I should be. Even if my ‘baby’ is about to start school…

It’s just that the nurse who imparted this news to me? Well, she was massive, to be honest.

Look, I put on over five stone during my second pregnancy. And found it really hard to lose.

OK fine, I didn’t actually try that hard. But I still reserve the right to be outraged that it did not automatically go back to whence it came all by itself.

I get it, being overweight is hard. Physically and emotionally.

But you know what I’ve never done as a bigger girl? Tell anyone else they need to lose weight.

Just like I never gave anyone driving advice when I didn’t have a licence. (I don’t do it now either, mainly because I park my car like I’ve abandoned it during a police chase.)

I strongly believe that if you haven’t mastered the art of a particular skill then leave that topic alone. Forget it exists. Move on to something else.

But this nurse? She did not do this. She just came straight out with it. “You need to lose some more weight.”

That’s it. Plain as you like. Like it was purely a ‘me’ problem.

I didn’t expect to be congratulated on my weight loss up until now. I’m not five years old. (Would it have killed her to acknowledge it though? Maybe offer me one of those smiley face stickers my kids always get after their jabs? I would have worn it!)

Her tone suggested I was 100% the only person in that room who needed such advice. Which technically I was. As I’ve no medical qualifications.

And of course she doesn’t need to justify her lifestyle choices to a stranger. I do, on some level, begrudgingly accept this. And I should have just skipped over this. Let her move on with the rest of my bodily MOT and wait to see if my fatness prevents me from passing it.

But I couldn’t let it go. Be the bigger person, if you will. My curiosity would simply not allow it.

So, I looked her dead in the eyeball, and asked “so what should I do?”.

It was a tense moment. She knew I was working my ticket. I knew it. Who would break first?

It was her, obviously. She was the one with the waiting room full of people to see. Whereas I was busy mentally clearing my entire schedule for the day.

There was a hill I had chosen to die on here, dammit. Nothing else mattered any more.

She muttered something about joining a gym and slimming classes. Again I cannot fault her. Well, I mean I shouldn’t. She’s not wrong. Which annoyed me even more for some reason.

So we had ourselves another staring contest. And then I left. Pulling in my stomach and cheeks as I left. Which just made me look like I needed a poo, but also a little thinner too.

So I’ll take it as a win.