A famous My 600-Pound Life nurse, halfway to looking like that creepy puppet Lady Elaine Fairchilde from Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, opens the door of the waiting room and calls out, “Shelby Grace.”
Shelby Grace struggles to get out of the chair almost as much as she struggled to get into the chair. “Help me, Lawrence,” she says. He yanked on her arm and there was a friction-fueled pop sound. “Lordy, they need to make these chairs bigger,” Shelby Grace said.
They followed the nurse into the room where they weigh the patients.
“Please wait while I reset the scale,” the nurse says. Moments later. “Go on and step up on the scale.
Dramatic and impatient music plays in Lawrence’s head as he watches the digital display on the scale blink.
Then … “You’re weight is 540.”
Lawrence releases a shocked sigh. “Damn, Shelby Grace.”
“We’re going to room 5,” the nurse says.
Once inside the examination room, Shelby Grace begins to cry. “I just can’t believe it. How did I let this happen?”
“How?” Lawrence says. “I should have videotaped you on this road trip. Eating like a damn hippopotamus with wooden teeth, that’s how.”
There is a light knocking and Dr. Now walks in. “Hello, how are you all doing?”
“Good,” they say in unison.
“Where you all coming from today?”
“Charlie Brown, Tennessee,” Lawrence proudly boasts.
“Charlie Brown, Tennessee, huh. Do you have towns there in Tennessee called Peppermint Patty and Pigpen.”
Lawrence chuckles. “No, but we got plenty of towns that look like pigpens.”
Dr. Now doesn’t think it’s funny and turns his attention to his patient. “Okay. So, you must be Shelby Grace.”
“Ye, sir.”
“Says here you are 540 pounds today.” He moves his head around as he and looks her up and down. “Seems like most of that is in your rear-end. How did you let this happen?”
Shelby Grace wipes a tear away with a finger, sniffles. “I don’t know. I just love to eat. I suppose it fills some sort of void in my life.”
“So, you’re an emotional eater,” Dr. Now says.
“I guess I am.”
“Okay, so what are your eating habits like?”
“Too much junk,” Lawrence blurts out. “She eats like a hippopotamus with wooden teeth.”
Dr. Now looks at him, displeased with the answer. “I don’t think hippopotamus has wooden teeth, but I do wonder who brings her the food. Is it you…”
“This is my cousin Lawrence, Shelby Grace says. “Don’t listen to what he says, he’s an idiot.”
“Okay, okay,” Dr. Now begins. “We are not going to get anywhere with your weight problem by calling each other names. I sense a very dysfunctional dynamic here. But let’s get back to your eating habits. What do you usually have for breakfast, Shelby Grace.”
“Well, mostly some yogurt with fruit.”
Lawrence bursts out laughing. “Bullshit! You don’t even have yogurt in your house. It’s more like a platter of eggs, bacon, biscuits, hash browns, breakfast burritos, ham steaks, sometimes regular steak, cheese puffs…”
“Okay, okay. I get the picture,” Dr. Now says. “And who is bringing you all this food?”
“I live alone, except for my dog Testicles.”
Dr. Now holds up an aged hand. “Hold on. You have a dog named Testicles?”
“Yes.”
“I think that is gross and suggest you name him something else,” Dr. Now says. “I’m going to set up an appointment with a therapist while you are here in Houston to help you work through your emotional problems that lead you to eat too much.”
“Okay.”
“So, who brings you the food?”
“I usually cook it myself or have Door Dash bringing me something.”
“Okay, obviously you are obsessed with fast food. That has to stop starting today. You are killing yourself with food… So, what is your daily routine?”
“I get up, shower, cook myself breakfast. Then I go to work.”
“Where do you work?”
“I’m a pharmacy technician at a hospital.”
“So, you must be up on your feet all day running around.”
Shelby Grace shrugs. “Not really. I’m no Jennifer.”
“Is Jennifer a friend of yours?”
“Yes.”
Lawrence chuckles. “She has no friends.”
“Hush up, Lawrence,” Shelby Grace snaps. “I do so have friends. You don’t know everything about my life.”
“I know you don’t have any friends.”
‘Okay,” Dr. Now steps in. “Lawrence, you need to settle down or I’m going to have to ask you to leave the room.”
“I’m sorry. But she shouldn’t be lying.”
“I’m not…”
“That’s enough you two… Now listen to me. I’m going to give you some materials that I want you to read every day. It will have information about proper diet and exercise. Over the next three months I want you to lose 90 pounds. If you can do that, I will consider you for weight loss surgery, and you can start making plans to move to Houston. All right? And in the meantime, if you need anything just give me a call.”
The therapist’s waiting room smelled like disinfected brains. Shelby Grace sat alone, spread out over two chairs. Lawrence was waiting in the car. A door opened and a little man with glasses and a nice gray sweater came out. “Shelby Grace?”
“Yes.”
He extended his hand. “Hi. I’m Dr. Paradise. Come on in.”
Shelby Grace went into his office and sat down on a comfortable rich man’s couch.
“So, tell me about Shelby Grace,” Dr. Paradise began. “Why are you here?”
“There’s not much to tell?”
Dr. Paradise glances at her body. “Well, you are obviously here for a reason. Why don’t you tell me why you think you eat so much?”
Shelby Grace shrugged. She looked all around his impeccable office, and then back to him, the small man in the chair. She thought it was all very weird. She was uncomfortable. “I think I eat so much because I’m trying to fill a void in my life.”
“Okay. Describe this void you’re talking about.”
“I’m not married, obviously. Why would anyone want to marry me? I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Do you have any close friends or family in your life?”
“My family all live in Alabama. We don’t see each other much. But there’s my good friend Jennifer. We work together at the hospital. We’re always cutting up and laughing. She’s so much fun.”
Dr. Paradise smiles and nods his head. “Okay. So, you’re working. You have a good friend at work. Those are two very positive things in your life. And those are the things I really want you to focus on. Look away from the food, and look at the good things in your life… What else.”
“I have a nice little apartment where I live with my dog Testicles.”
“Wait a minute,” Dr. Paradise says, holding up a small hand. He smiles out loud. “You have a dog named Testicles?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, well. Obviously you are able to support yourself and maintain a home and care for a pet. Those are three more positive things. But the name of the dog.” He laughs. “You should probably change that.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Fair enough.”
“Are we almost done?”
“Sure. But my homework for you is to keep a running list of all the good things about your life. I want you to hang it up somewhere and every time you are down and want to reach for some junk food, look at the list. Tell yourself you are worth it, tell yourself you are better than having a rear end the size of a dumpster.”
Shelby Grace stood up as he did, and they shook hands. His hand felt so tiny in hers. It gave her the timber shivers. “It was good meeting you, Shelby Grace.”
“You too, Dr. Paradise. Thank you for the five-minute therapy session that will end up costing me 400 dollars.”
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