Ugh.

[beanside]

Yesterday was one of those days. We were insane at work, and then...then, I had the call to top it off.

Let me preface this by saying when I was younger, I had severe allergies and asthma. Was visiting the doctor's office every week usually.

So, my longtime, beloved pediatrician called into the office I work at to schedule a procedure. I introduced myself, and he said cheerfully, "Oh, I remember you!"

I felt all warm and fuzzy for one, shining moment, until his next sentence, at least.

"Do you still have problems with your weight?"

And, back to earth with a thud. "I don't really worry about it, sir."

"Well, that's good. As long as you're reasonably okay with it."

Honestly, I don't remember much after that. I know I was polite, and kind, and got him the FUCK OFF THE PHONE as fast as possible.

*sigh*

I went into anaphylactic shock in their office, and stopped breathing. But what does he remember? My fat ass. Go team me.

Comments

[one-more-cherry.livejournal.com]

*HUGS* Urgh, I hate people who feel the need to dictate to others about their weight, even YEARS after you exit their sphere of existence.