Between my stressful week at work and then food poisoning, my weight has dropped some. I suppose I wasn't that shocked to hear it- even with just the illness, my eating hadn't been optimal for several days. I was, however, a little startled at how much (my therapist was rather cryptic, saying "more than a few." I have my guess at what that means, but still).

I suppose I could launch into a rehash of the potential reasons why. I could have pushed myself to try and eat more while sick. I could have been more careful while at my work conference. Coulda, woulda, shoulda. I'm not trying to wash my hands of my responsibility in what happened, nor am I trying to take on responsibility where none existed (though I am kicking myself for eating that damn hot dog that most likely got me sick).

I tried adding a little bit more to my normal meal plan, but that didn't do much. In fact, my weight dropped slightly more because my metabolism kicked in again. This led to a very frank discussion about What I Was Going To Do About This.

The difference--the massive, can't-be-overstated difference--was that I was able to fully participate in this discussion and follow through with what I promised. I don't like much of what I'm doing- Ensure Plus can go suck it, thank you very much. Ditto for the extra snack. Again, that's not the point.

I don't need to want to do this. I do, however, need to be willing.

Frankly, I do think my therapist is being just a tad alarmist about a single-digit weight loss. I didn't feel that I had lost weight. I'm not keen on going back to the chugging of the Ensure and the metabolic shift that once again leaves me burning through massive calories just watching TV.

But I could see it as necessary. I know enough that every relapse starts with "just a little" weight loss, however inadvertent (or, well, not) it might be. I know that good intentions don't save you. I know that promising to eat more is a long way from actually eating more. I know that recovery can be really f*cking inconvenient and you still have to do it anyway because an eating disorder is even more f*cking inconvenient.

So in the past few days, I have been eating foods I haven't touched for years: hot chocolate, Pop Tarts (not exactly a nutritional powerhouse, but sometimes it really is just about the calories), chips. It wasn't as bad as I thought. It helps that I know my metabolism is fierce at the moment and can "handle" the extra/sloppy intake. We'll see whether my weight changes this week. If it doesn't, well, we'll deal with that, too.

I would like to hand out another Smooshy-faced Cat Award, this time to one of the most prestigious medical groups of our nation: the American Medical Association.

Their newest campaign against "Childhood Obesity" definitely disproves the fact that doctors are, indeed, smart. I'm sure there are a few sharp crayons out there, but the rest? It's time to buy a new box of Crayolas, kids.

This was their latest proposal: Expert Panel Says to Call Kids 'Obese'. One of the experts was the illustrious Centers for Disease Control (for whom I used to have much respect). The other was the good ol' AMA. An exerpt from the article:

Dr. Reginald Washington, a committee spokesman and member of the American Academy of Pediatrics, said Tuesday that some doctors have avoided the blunt terms for "fear that we're going to stigmatize children, we're going to take away their self-esteem, we're going to label them."

The recommended terms cut to the chase, at least medically, but don't mean that doctors should be insensitive or use the label in front of every patient, he said. "We need to describe this in medical terms, which is 'obesity.' When we talk to an individual family, we can be a little more cognizant of their feelings and more gentle, but that doesn't mean we can't discuss it," Washington said. "The evidence is clear that we need to bring it up."