The subtle barb.
My partner Christy is caring for a fairly young person who is only in the hospital because she can't take care of herself. She can't take care of herself because she is so morbidly obese that she can barely walk and has trouble breathing. (A normal BMI is 18-25. Overweight is 25-29. 30 is obese. Hers is something like 95.) However, since coming into the hospital she has been put on a fairly strict 1800 calorie diet and has lost about 100 pounds. (Let's just say she's been in the hospital for a while.) Apparently she's not loving this whole diet and weight loss thing, because every single day she asks Christy for some kind of food or treat and complaining that she is hungry.
"I need some 'tato salad. Can't I have some of that? That's got protein in it."
"Can I please have just a little bit of fried chicken?"
Christy is also over 36 weeks pregnant. I only mention that because another of our patient's common themes when Christy sees her is to talk to Christy's baby - asking the baby what he is going to look like or when he is going to come. Today she must have been a little more annoyed about her diet because this is what she said to baby Cayden, still nestled inside his mama:
"Ooh, baby, you'd better stay in there. Your mama's going to starve you if you come out."
"I need some 'tato salad. Can't I have some of that? That's got protein in it."
"Can I please have just a little bit of fried chicken?"
Christy is also over 36 weeks pregnant. I only mention that because another of our patient's common themes when Christy sees her is to talk to Christy's baby - asking the baby what he is going to look like or when he is going to come. Today she must have been a little more annoyed about her diet because this is what she said to baby Cayden, still nestled inside his mama:
"Ooh, baby, you'd better stay in there. Your mama's going to starve you if you come out."
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