MY WORST ENEMY: THE SCALE

By Dr. Maurice Larocque, M.D.

Everyone carrying around a few extra pounds has the same uncompromising adversary: “THE SCALE”.

It seems harmless enough, lying there in the corner of the bathroom, but it’s always watchfully waiting. From the moment you wake up and jump (so to speak) out of bed, it’s ready to pounce. Once you have entered its force field, there’s no getting away; it keeps pulling at you until you finally break down and climb on. The verdict is swift and irrefutable: GUILTY!

No judicial system in any democracy would tolerate such a judgment with no chance of defence. Such judicial abuse cried out for an appeal to the human rights commission.

You’d gotten up in good spirits, now you’re down for the day. As you wash, you stare at your face; a mask of guilt stares back. You may never eat again. At the very least you’ll skip breakfast, maybe then you can have a little peace. That’s the idea; I won’t eat breakfast anymore. And I’ll get rid of this scale; I’ll throw it out with the garbage. But that would be worse. It would be admitting defeat. Better still, I’ll meet it on its own ground. I’ll take it on head to head and beat it at its own game.

It’s lunch time. I won’t eat a lot, some broth, an apple three coffees with no sugar. I’ve held out so far, there’s no going back now. I can beat this thing.

In fact, I feel like going right up there now and gloating a bit. But maybe I’d better wait ‘til tonight. I should have lost even more weight by then. I can wait.

The afternoon is tougher. The hunger pangs are strong and the battle is furious. I fight with an abundance of water and coffee. My nerves are raw, but no matter, it’s just the coffee. The thought of beating that cold, cruel scale keeps me going.  I’ll prove it wrong.

Dinner is welcome. It was about time. My head is pounding and my stomach is screaming. I did well all day. The scale will find out who’s the boss tonight. I deserve a bit of a reward. I think I’ll have a before dinner drink: white wine, red is sweeter. It’s time for a little celebration. Imagine the scale – the nerve!

That drink hit the spot. My headache has eased off and my stomach has calmed down. It’s been a hectic day and this quiet time is very nice. A second glass won’t do any harm, and I certainly deserve it. Wine is relaxing after all that coffee. And why not go out to eat? Dinner at a restaurant, what a great idea! I’ll be careful; I won’t eat anything too fattening. And even if the scale doesn’t go down I feel fine, thank you, and I’ll take it on anytime.

The next morning when you jump (so to speak) out of bed, there it is waiting. You enter its force field; you can’t escape; it draws you inexorably closer. Its verdict is impersonal, swift and irrefutable: GUILTY!