This morning I read the following sentence in Sandy Szwarc's most recent post in her Junkfood Science blog:
"Far more young people are dying from anorexia than . . . from being fat."
Tears sprang to my eyes. That is exactly right.
The emphasis on "overweight children and teens" clouds the issue for the public and for health professionals. So long as doctors and the rest of us are so terrified of being fat, and of having our children be fat, lethal eating disorders like anorexia and bulimia will be underdiagnosed, mistreated, and poorly researched.
Thank you, Sandy, for putting it so plainly.
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Repeat after me: Fat is good
An interesting study crossed my desk this week, from a team of researchers in New York who posed the question, "Does percent body fat predict outcome in anorexia nervosa?"
They looked at a number of factors they thought might contribute to relapse in anorexia recovery, including BMI, leptin levels, waist-to-hip ratio, the subtype of anorexia, and percentage of body fat. Only one--body fat--seemed to affect the rate of relapse. "In recently weight-restored women with anorexia nervosa," they wrote, "lower percent body fat was associated with poor long-term outcome."
We're so used to thinking of fat as the Ultimate Evil, which must be banished at any cost, that news like this can feel downright shocking. Fat can be not just good but essential. Without it our brains don't work very well. We're supposed to have a certain amount of fat in our bodies.
This is important for those in recovery from anorexia, especially people (like my own daughter) who are naturally athletic and build a lot of muscle mass. Nothing wrong with muscles, but you've gotta have fat, too. Lean muscle mass without body fat is associated with relapse. And that's not what anybody wants.
So repeat after me: Fat is necessary for human life. Fat is not evil. Fat can even (dare I say it?) be a Very Good Thing.
They looked at a number of factors they thought might contribute to relapse in anorexia recovery, including BMI, leptin levels, waist-to-hip ratio, the subtype of anorexia, and percentage of body fat. Only one--body fat--seemed to affect the rate of relapse. "In recently weight-restored women with anorexia nervosa," they wrote, "lower percent body fat was associated with poor long-term outcome."
We're so used to thinking of fat as the Ultimate Evil, which must be banished at any cost, that news like this can feel downright shocking. Fat can be not just good but essential. Without it our brains don't work very well. We're supposed to have a certain amount of fat in our bodies.
This is important for those in recovery from anorexia, especially people (like my own daughter) who are naturally athletic and build a lot of muscle mass. Nothing wrong with muscles, but you've gotta have fat, too. Lean muscle mass without body fat is associated with relapse. And that's not what anybody wants.
So repeat after me: Fat is necessary for human life. Fat is not evil. Fat can even (dare I say it?) be a Very Good Thing.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Advocacy for what?
I've given a lot of thought to how those of us who have children with eating disorders can model our advocacy efforts after those of other groups. Parents of kids with autism, for instance, have been very effective in pushing for legislation covering treatments and other issues.
The thing is, most people aren't busy arguing about what causes autism in the first place, and they pretty much agree on treatments. Whereas folks in the e.d. world are divided in every possible way.
My friend Laura Collins says she'd like to lock all the e.d. experts in a room until they come to an agreement. Ha!
One of the biggest arguments, of course, is the biology-vs.-psychology one. Both parents and professionals have vested interests in taking one side or the other when it comes to both cause and treatment.
When I imagine trying to bring together a coalition of eating disorders parents and professionals to push for legislation and advocacy, I get a sense of how great the conflicts are. For instance, I don't think individual therapy is useful in treating anorexia, at least not during the active recovery phase, so I'm not sure I would want to push for legislation to cover lots and lots of individual therapy.
In case you couldn't tell, I'm of the biology camp, as in the Minnesota Starvation Study. I don't believe kids "think" their way into eating disorders, and I'm damn sure they don't think their way out of them.
I think what's needed most are more and better treatment studies, like the one Dan Le Grange is doing at University of Chicago. We need to know what the best treatments are for anorexia and bulimia.
What do you think we should be pushing for?
The thing is, most people aren't busy arguing about what causes autism in the first place, and they pretty much agree on treatments. Whereas folks in the e.d. world are divided in every possible way.
My friend Laura Collins says she'd like to lock all the e.d. experts in a room until they come to an agreement. Ha!
One of the biggest arguments, of course, is the biology-vs.-psychology one. Both parents and professionals have vested interests in taking one side or the other when it comes to both cause and treatment.
When I imagine trying to bring together a coalition of eating disorders parents and professionals to push for legislation and advocacy, I get a sense of how great the conflicts are. For instance, I don't think individual therapy is useful in treating anorexia, at least not during the active recovery phase, so I'm not sure I would want to push for legislation to cover lots and lots of individual therapy.
In case you couldn't tell, I'm of the biology camp, as in the Minnesota Starvation Study. I don't believe kids "think" their way into eating disorders, and I'm damn sure they don't think their way out of them.
I think what's needed most are more and better treatment studies, like the one Dan Le Grange is doing at University of Chicago. We need to know what the best treatments are for anorexia and bulimia.
What do you think we should be pushing for?
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
How cliches hurt us
What do the obesity epidemic, anorexia nation, and healthy eating all have in common?
They're all cliches, code phrases created by the media. And by "the media" I mean not only the Gray Lady and the Sly Network but small local newspapers, big national magazines, and--oh, yeah--those of us who write and blog about these subjects.
Each of these code phrases contains layers and levels of meaning that never get unpacked. They're like cue balls careening around a pool table, knocking all the other balls out of their way.
When you read the words "the obesity epidemic," you are, in essence, being told what to think and how to think it when it comes to the issue of overweight in America. The phrase itself shapes the way you think about it. If the language were different--if the issue was framed in another way--you might think about it differently.
And this is where I hold the media, and all of us, accountable for the superficial and slick way these deeply important subjects are framed and discarded. Each time yo say the words "the obesity epidemic," you're validating the notion that the nation is in the grip of a contagious pandemic of overweight. If that's what you truly think, you're all set. (I'd like to argue the point. But that's another post.)
But chances are it's not really what you think or what you mean to say. But each time you use that code phrase, you're buying in to someone else's conception of the dialogue. You're letting yourself be co-opted.
It's hard to unpack these code phrases. It's even harder to go against the mainstream, to question the conventional wisdom, to challenge the status quo. But more and more, I think it's crucial that we do exactly that. So next time you find one of these cliches or code phrases flying out of your mouth or tripping off your fingers, take a minute, or five, to consider what you really think. Then say it in your own words.
I'll start: I think the idea of an obesity epidemic is a sadly unimaginative construct that has little or nothing to do with reality. It's a cover for institutionalized prejudice against overweight people, a trigger for eating disorders, and a big waste of our collective time and energy.
Your turn.
They're all cliches, code phrases created by the media. And by "the media" I mean not only the Gray Lady and the Sly Network but small local newspapers, big national magazines, and--oh, yeah--those of us who write and blog about these subjects.
Each of these code phrases contains layers and levels of meaning that never get unpacked. They're like cue balls careening around a pool table, knocking all the other balls out of their way.
When you read the words "the obesity epidemic," you are, in essence, being told what to think and how to think it when it comes to the issue of overweight in America. The phrase itself shapes the way you think about it. If the language were different--if the issue was framed in another way--you might think about it differently.
And this is where I hold the media, and all of us, accountable for the superficial and slick way these deeply important subjects are framed and discarded. Each time yo say the words "the obesity epidemic," you're validating the notion that the nation is in the grip of a contagious pandemic of overweight. If that's what you truly think, you're all set. (I'd like to argue the point. But that's another post.)
But chances are it's not really what you think or what you mean to say. But each time you use that code phrase, you're buying in to someone else's conception of the dialogue. You're letting yourself be co-opted.
It's hard to unpack these code phrases. It's even harder to go against the mainstream, to question the conventional wisdom, to challenge the status quo. But more and more, I think it's crucial that we do exactly that. So next time you find one of these cliches or code phrases flying out of your mouth or tripping off your fingers, take a minute, or five, to consider what you really think. Then say it in your own words.
I'll start: I think the idea of an obesity epidemic is a sadly unimaginative construct that has little or nothing to do with reality. It's a cover for institutionalized prejudice against overweight people, a trigger for eating disorders, and a big waste of our collective time and energy.
Your turn.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
There's a sucker born every minute
As P.T. Barnum is often (mistakenly) quoted as saying, There's a sucker born every minute.* And right now, those suckers are us.
At least, those of us who are rushing out to buy the newest FDA-approved diet pill, Alli.
Let's start with the fact that Alli doesn't actually work. Or rather, it doesn't work quite the way you think it might. Taken before meals, it prevents your body from absorbing the fat in food. But it has another mechanism that isn't being touted quite as enthusiastically. Think Antabuse for fat. If you eat fatty food while you're on this stuff, you are likely to have explosive and uncontrolled bowel movements that "smell like fish oil," according to one website I read. This site cautioned consumers to carry a package of baby wipes and an extra pair of pants while taking Alli. Presumably you need experience this only once before you're frightened out of eating fat. Or out of taking the pill.
Don't bother to take Vitamin E while you're on this stuff, either. Alli is likely to decrease your body's ability to absorb fat-soluble vitamins--E, A, D, and K, along with beta carotene.
As Sandy Szwarc points out in her May 25th blog on the subject, this little pill is getting a great big push from its U.S. distributors, GlaxoSmithKline, playing up the FDA's approval (what in the world were they thinking?) and betting that consumers will pony up two bucks a day for the privilege of taking this pseudomedication. And talk about disingenuous! If this article from the New York Times doesn't make you want to scream, your b.s. detector's not working.
How stupid do they think we are? As stupid as we are, apparently. Thin at any price--even wearing adult diapers or buying a whole new wardrobe of all-black pants? I don't think so.
*(If you can tell me who actually said that quote--no fair using Google to find out--I'll send you a free Mr. Wrong T-shirt.)
At least, those of us who are rushing out to buy the newest FDA-approved diet pill, Alli.
Let's start with the fact that Alli doesn't actually work. Or rather, it doesn't work quite the way you think it might. Taken before meals, it prevents your body from absorbing the fat in food. But it has another mechanism that isn't being touted quite as enthusiastically. Think Antabuse for fat. If you eat fatty food while you're on this stuff, you are likely to have explosive and uncontrolled bowel movements that "smell like fish oil," according to one website I read. This site cautioned consumers to carry a package of baby wipes and an extra pair of pants while taking Alli. Presumably you need experience this only once before you're frightened out of eating fat. Or out of taking the pill.
Don't bother to take Vitamin E while you're on this stuff, either. Alli is likely to decrease your body's ability to absorb fat-soluble vitamins--E, A, D, and K, along with beta carotene.
As Sandy Szwarc points out in her May 25th blog on the subject, this little pill is getting a great big push from its U.S. distributors, GlaxoSmithKline, playing up the FDA's approval (what in the world were they thinking?) and betting that consumers will pony up two bucks a day for the privilege of taking this pseudomedication. And talk about disingenuous! If this article from the New York Times doesn't make you want to scream, your b.s. detector's not working.
How stupid do they think we are? As stupid as we are, apparently. Thin at any price--even wearing adult diapers or buying a whole new wardrobe of all-black pants? I don't think so.
*(If you can tell me who actually said that quote--no fair using Google to find out--I'll send you a free Mr. Wrong T-shirt.)
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Thin at any cost
The most horrifying news story I’ve read this spring wasn’t about terrorism or war but about a hormone called leptin, known for its role in regulating appetite and metabolism. Since its discovery in 1994, leptin has become the holy grail of anti-obesity crusaders, a miraculous substance that could suppress appetite at the source: in the brain. In this society, anything’s better than being fat.
Leptin’s superhero status was enhanced last year when a study in the American Journal of Physiology showed that infant rats who were fed lots of leptin never got fat or developed diabetes, no matter how much fat they ate. The idea, explained one of the study’s researchers, was to change the way the body uses and stores energy. In utero and/or early exposure to leptin apparently makes the body metabolically inefficient—not just for a little while but for good.
This finding made leptin the A-bomb of the War on Fat, at least according to a group of researchers at the University of Buckingham. They’re developing a line of baby foods and formula laced with leptin. The goal: to make children thin for life.
Before you start cheering, remember fen-phen, the miracle drug that was supposed to make people thin? It damaged their hearts, and has inspired thousands of lawsuits, many still ongoing 10 years later.
Remember thalidomide?
Even if leptin-laced formula does what it’s supposed to, even if there are no immediate negative side effects, it’s still a worrisome proposition. The nifty little feedback loop we call metabolism serves us well. Human beings are designed to get hungry and eat. It’s a matter of survival.
Witness what happens when the link between appetite and behavior weakens or breaks. My husband and I watched our 14-year-old daughter nearly starve to death after developing anorexia. For two long years, she never felt hungry. She was hungry, of course; many of the behaviors associated with the illness—obsession with cooking, cutting food into tiny bites, pouring mustard on everything—proclaimed this appetite, despite the fact that she herself didn’t feel hunger pangs. But the connection between her brain and her body had been disrupted by the illness.
For my daughter, recovery from anorexia meant gaining quite a bit of weight. What if she’d been a leptin baby, her metabolism engineered to make weight gain difficult or impossible? No matter how many calories a day we fed her, she might not have survived. Some researchers believe that breakdowns in leptin regulation and processing might be part of what causes anorexia in the first place. Certainly an important step in my daughter’s recovery has been learning to recognize feelings of hunger and fullness again—feelings she would never have access to, if the Birmingham researchers have their way.
As a recent UCLA study showed, 98 percent of diets fail, causing a rebound effect that winds up making people fatter. Ditto the no-fat craze of the 1980s, which may well have something to do with the current rise in obesity.
No matter how well-intentioned, our attempts to micro-manage our metabolisms usually cause more harm than good. Better to teach kids to eat when they’re hungry and stop when they’re full, and to accept the fact that humans come in different shapes and sizes, than to mess up the next generation’s neurochemistry in the name of thinness.
Leptin’s superhero status was enhanced last year when a study in the American Journal of Physiology showed that infant rats who were fed lots of leptin never got fat or developed diabetes, no matter how much fat they ate. The idea, explained one of the study’s researchers, was to change the way the body uses and stores energy. In utero and/or early exposure to leptin apparently makes the body metabolically inefficient—not just for a little while but for good.
This finding made leptin the A-bomb of the War on Fat, at least according to a group of researchers at the University of Buckingham. They’re developing a line of baby foods and formula laced with leptin. The goal: to make children thin for life.
Before you start cheering, remember fen-phen, the miracle drug that was supposed to make people thin? It damaged their hearts, and has inspired thousands of lawsuits, many still ongoing 10 years later.
Remember thalidomide?
Even if leptin-laced formula does what it’s supposed to, even if there are no immediate negative side effects, it’s still a worrisome proposition. The nifty little feedback loop we call metabolism serves us well. Human beings are designed to get hungry and eat. It’s a matter of survival.
Witness what happens when the link between appetite and behavior weakens or breaks. My husband and I watched our 14-year-old daughter nearly starve to death after developing anorexia. For two long years, she never felt hungry. She was hungry, of course; many of the behaviors associated with the illness—obsession with cooking, cutting food into tiny bites, pouring mustard on everything—proclaimed this appetite, despite the fact that she herself didn’t feel hunger pangs. But the connection between her brain and her body had been disrupted by the illness.
For my daughter, recovery from anorexia meant gaining quite a bit of weight. What if she’d been a leptin baby, her metabolism engineered to make weight gain difficult or impossible? No matter how many calories a day we fed her, she might not have survived. Some researchers believe that breakdowns in leptin regulation and processing might be part of what causes anorexia in the first place. Certainly an important step in my daughter’s recovery has been learning to recognize feelings of hunger and fullness again—feelings she would never have access to, if the Birmingham researchers have their way.
As a recent UCLA study showed, 98 percent of diets fail, causing a rebound effect that winds up making people fatter. Ditto the no-fat craze of the 1980s, which may well have something to do with the current rise in obesity.
No matter how well-intentioned, our attempts to micro-manage our metabolisms usually cause more harm than good. Better to teach kids to eat when they’re hungry and stop when they’re full, and to accept the fact that humans come in different shapes and sizes, than to mess up the next generation’s neurochemistry in the name of thinness.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
More inspiration from autism advocacy
A reader sent me this link for an inspiring story about success from a group of parents with autistic children and their advocacy work.
What's it gonna take for those of us with children who are eating disordered? What would it take to force insurers to cover e.d. treatments at the same level they cover other biologically based illnesses?
Maybe we each need to pledge to do SOMETHING on the advocacy front when we're able.
What's it gonna take for those of us with children who are eating disordered? What would it take to force insurers to cover e.d. treatments at the same level they cover other biologically based illnesses?
Maybe we each need to pledge to do SOMETHING on the advocacy front when we're able.
Taking a lesson from autism
An article in my local paper got me thinking yesterday. If the autism parents can get their shit together to push for more comprehensive insurance coverage of their kids' illness, why can't we?
Jim Lock himself, one of the gurus of the Maudsley method here in the U.S., once told me that eating disorders parents should model ourselves on the autism parents. As a group they've dedicated themselves to not just supporting their children but to advocacy on all levels--especially, now, with regard to insurance coverage.
The article quotes an autism professional as saying "Most of the major autism organizations, both providers and support groups, have come together in agreement that insurance coverage for all individuals with autism is a positive and important need."
Same goes for anorexia and bulimia, as well we know.
Like anorexia, autism is often not covered, or covered poorly, because it's classified as an emotional disorder rather than a brain disorder. But I say, if your brain isn't considered part of your biological body, then what is it--a disembodied organ floating in space?
One of the autism advocates is quoted as saying "We're continuing to work together in the hope legislators take notice that the need is not going to go away and we're not going to go away."
Hey, what about us? What about those of us who have watched our children waste away or go through hell, only to be told that insurance doesn't cover therapy, or IP treatment or whatever the doctors are recommending at that moment?
What about people like Anna Westin, whose smart, articulate parents fought like hell to get her well, only to be turned down by insurance eventually? Anna committed suicide, and her parents took her experiences to the state insurance commissioner and to the courts and won not just money but also changed the way insurers in Minnesota cover anorexia.
We could do this, state by state. That's what it's going to take, probably, unless we can get the federal mental health parity bill passed.
I'm sick of "steps forward," though, and "making progress." We aren't making progress when it comes eating disorders. What will it take?
Jim Lock himself, one of the gurus of the Maudsley method here in the U.S., once told me that eating disorders parents should model ourselves on the autism parents. As a group they've dedicated themselves to not just supporting their children but to advocacy on all levels--especially, now, with regard to insurance coverage.
The article quotes an autism professional as saying "Most of the major autism organizations, both providers and support groups, have come together in agreement that insurance coverage for all individuals with autism is a positive and important need."
Same goes for anorexia and bulimia, as well we know.
Like anorexia, autism is often not covered, or covered poorly, because it's classified as an emotional disorder rather than a brain disorder. But I say, if your brain isn't considered part of your biological body, then what is it--a disembodied organ floating in space?
One of the autism advocates is quoted as saying "We're continuing to work together in the hope legislators take notice that the need is not going to go away and we're not going to go away."
Hey, what about us? What about those of us who have watched our children waste away or go through hell, only to be told that insurance doesn't cover therapy, or IP treatment or whatever the doctors are recommending at that moment?
What about people like Anna Westin, whose smart, articulate parents fought like hell to get her well, only to be turned down by insurance eventually? Anna committed suicide, and her parents took her experiences to the state insurance commissioner and to the courts and won not just money but also changed the way insurers in Minnesota cover anorexia.
We could do this, state by state. That's what it's going to take, probably, unless we can get the federal mental health parity bill passed.
I'm sick of "steps forward," though, and "making progress." We aren't making progress when it comes eating disorders. What will it take?
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Good food, bad food
Sound familiar? I've often wondered where the good food/bad food dichtomy originates. Why is it that carrot sticks carry with them an aura of smug virtue, while chocolate cake bears the stigma of sin?
Of course I know the answer: It's all about the calories, stupid. But there's got to be attitude behind those calories. And there is. Turns out reseachers from Yale and elsewhere did a study several years ago (which I just came across) looking at the stigma associated with obesity. Get this: They quizzed obesity specialists--doctors, researchers, psychologists--and discovered that even people who have devoted their lives to the subject associate "blameworthy behvioral characteristics" with obesity.
These are folks who understand the genetic and environmental factors implicated in obesity. Who know that fat people aren't fat because they watch TV and eat bon-bons all day.
Geez, if you can't trust these people to understand, who can you trust?
This sense of judgment extends beyond food to any part of our lives that our related to fat and overweight. We fatties are told that we bring all kinds of bad things on ourselves, from diabetes to lower pay to heart disease.
If your heart were, I don't know, a sewage pump (which in some ways isn't such a bad comparison), and it got clogged, would you feel a sense of moral failure? Or would you just call the plumber to have the pipes cleaned out? So why the strong sense of self-blame and guilt over being fat?
Stigma equals shame. Shame equals a sense of moral dichotomy, good and bad. People with anorexia take this good/bad food thing to obsessive extremes. But I bet most of us do it on some level.
Pay attention to your feelings about the next plate of food you sit down to. See if it's true for you. Then practice moral blindness when it comes to food. Repeat after me: There is no such thing as bad food, only badly cooked, badly prepared, or bad-tasting food.
Bon appetit.
Of course I know the answer: It's all about the calories, stupid. But there's got to be attitude behind those calories. And there is. Turns out reseachers from Yale and elsewhere did a study several years ago (which I just came across) looking at the stigma associated with obesity. Get this: They quizzed obesity specialists--doctors, researchers, psychologists--and discovered that even people who have devoted their lives to the subject associate "blameworthy behvioral characteristics" with obesity.
These are folks who understand the genetic and environmental factors implicated in obesity. Who know that fat people aren't fat because they watch TV and eat bon-bons all day.
Geez, if you can't trust these people to understand, who can you trust?
This sense of judgment extends beyond food to any part of our lives that our related to fat and overweight. We fatties are told that we bring all kinds of bad things on ourselves, from diabetes to lower pay to heart disease.
If your heart were, I don't know, a sewage pump (which in some ways isn't such a bad comparison), and it got clogged, would you feel a sense of moral failure? Or would you just call the plumber to have the pipes cleaned out? So why the strong sense of self-blame and guilt over being fat?
Stigma equals shame. Shame equals a sense of moral dichotomy, good and bad. People with anorexia take this good/bad food thing to obsessive extremes. But I bet most of us do it on some level.
Pay attention to your feelings about the next plate of food you sit down to. See if it's true for you. Then practice moral blindness when it comes to food. Repeat after me: There is no such thing as bad food, only badly cooked, badly prepared, or bad-tasting food.
Bon appetit.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
A Big Fat Bad Idea
I don't watch reality TV. Even if I did, I would not be tempted by this recent offering from TLC. The show reportedly follows a father-and-son team who perform bariatric surgery on "obese people who have opted to undergo weight-loss surgery in an attempt to regain their lives."
And here I thought obese people had lives, even without undergoing the risky-but-oh-so-profitable procedures performed by these butchers--I mean surgeons.
The producers would have you believe that this father and son are dedicated do-gooders out to make the lives of Fat People better by surgical mutilation, we know better.
We know, for instance, that nearly 40 percent of those who underwent such surgery last year had complications within 6 months, including vomiting, diarrhea, difficulty swallowing, reflux, abdominal hernia, leaking at the surgical site between stomach and intestine, and infections of one sort or another.
We know that 7 percent of those who had the surgery had to go back to the hospital within 6 months to treat complications of the surgery.
The producers of this incredibly offensive show describe the father and son as "passionate" people "who have dedicated their professional lives to raising awareness about obesity."
Raising awareness? Um, did we need our awareness raised on this issue? Do those of us whose BMI qualifies us as overweight or obese just not realize it? Is there anyone living in America--heck, in the world--who hasn't been inundated with anti-fat propaganda and prejudice?
Captain Kirk was wrong; fat is the final frontier. And this show is one big fat bad idea.
And here I thought obese people had lives, even without undergoing the risky-but-oh-so-profitable procedures performed by these butchers--I mean surgeons.
The producers would have you believe that this father and son are dedicated do-gooders out to make the lives of Fat People better by surgical mutilation, we know better.
We know, for instance, that nearly 40 percent of those who underwent such surgery last year had complications within 6 months, including vomiting, diarrhea, difficulty swallowing, reflux, abdominal hernia, leaking at the surgical site between stomach and intestine, and infections of one sort or another.
We know that 7 percent of those who had the surgery had to go back to the hospital within 6 months to treat complications of the surgery.
The producers of this incredibly offensive show describe the father and son as "passionate" people "who have dedicated their professional lives to raising awareness about obesity."
Raising awareness? Um, did we need our awareness raised on this issue? Do those of us whose BMI qualifies us as overweight or obese just not realize it? Is there anyone living in America--heck, in the world--who hasn't been inundated with anti-fat propaganda and prejudice?
Captain Kirk was wrong; fat is the final frontier. And this show is one big fat bad idea.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Gina Kolata rocks
Tomorrow's New York Times Book Review features a review of Gina Kolata's new book, Rethinking Thin. While the reviewer accepts Kolata's most relevant point--that most fat people do not get thin despite countless diets and interventions--she scoffs at Kolata's conclusion: that maybe there's nothing so wrong with being fat.
This is one book I can't wait to get my hands on. The reviewer was obviously biased from the get-go, but luckily that bias is so clear that there's no mistaking it for critical judgment. Kolata is a wonderful science writer who knows her stuff. I'm looking forward to reading it for myself.
This is one book I can't wait to get my hands on. The reviewer was obviously biased from the get-go, but luckily that bias is so clear that there's no mistaking it for critical judgment. Kolata is a wonderful science writer who knows her stuff. I'm looking forward to reading it for myself.
Friday, May 04, 2007
Why do women hate their bodies?
Gen-Y journalist Courtney E. Martin posed this question to herself, her friends, and to some of the so-called experts. Then she wrote a book called Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters: The Frightening New Normalcy of Hating Your Body.
The subtitle rocks--I love the juxtaposition of "normal" and "hating your body," which makes you stop and really think about it. Though I don't think there's anything new about the phenomenon. It was "normal" to hate your body when I grew up in the 1960s and 70s. Martin's point seems to be that the pressure to be thin has now morphed into the pressure to be perfect. The opening line of the review that ran in Publishers Weekly reads, "It is no longer enough for girls to be good . . . girls must now be perfect, and that need for perfection is played out in women's bodies."
I'll be curious to read the book and see if it lives up to its title . . . and what, exactly, Martin has to say about eating disorders.
The subtitle rocks--I love the juxtaposition of "normal" and "hating your body," which makes you stop and really think about it. Though I don't think there's anything new about the phenomenon. It was "normal" to hate your body when I grew up in the 1960s and 70s. Martin's point seems to be that the pressure to be thin has now morphed into the pressure to be perfect. The opening line of the review that ran in Publishers Weekly reads, "It is no longer enough for girls to be good . . . girls must now be perfect, and that need for perfection is played out in women's bodies."
I'll be curious to read the book and see if it lives up to its title . . . and what, exactly, Martin has to say about eating disorders.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
What do you wish your child's school knew about eating disorders?
I'm in the beginning stages of putting together a presentation to give to staff at middle and high schools on eating disorders from the parent's perspective and especially anorexia. My goal is to a) create empathy for students and families dealing with an e.d., b) explain the severity of such e.d.s, c) offer specific practical information on how schools can support families dealing with e.d.s, and d) offer a list of things they shouldn't do, both in general ("anti-obesity" curricula, public weigh-ins, etc) and in specific when dealing with a child in crisis.
So I pose the question to my readers: What would YOU want your child's school to know/do differently when it comes to anorexia and e.d.s? Your input will help me create the most effective and compelling presentation.
So I pose the question to my readers: What would YOU want your child's school to know/do differently when it comes to anorexia and e.d.s? Your input will help me create the most effective and compelling presentation.
Monday, April 23, 2007
And the winners of the Mr. Wrong contest are . . .
I got some really great submissions about romance gone wrong in the Mr. Wrong contest. Who knew there were so many truly awful boyfriends out there? (Well, we all did.)
Two stood out, and I'm going to publish both of them here on my blog. Today's entry is by Cathy Prescott. It caught my eye initially because it takes place in the same part of Wisconsin where I live. Then again, it's just such a good story, I couldn't resist.
So congratulations to Cathy Prescott, my first winner, who will get a signed copy of the book and a T-shirt just as soon as she sends me her shirt size and address. Read her piece for yourself (and weep? laugh?). Tomorrow I'll bring you another installment of MR. WRONG: REAL-LIFE STORIES ABOUT THE MEN WE USED TO LOVE.
By the way, you can still enter (see the link above). The deadline was April 15 but, well, I'm easy about this stuff. And did you know that you, too, can have your very own MR. WRONG T-shirt? It's true. Send me an e-mail and I'll tell you how.
Crash Redpath
By Cathy Prescott
My former husband, James Redpath, was a flying nut. Maybe it stemmed from his days as a Green Beret, or maybe it was because he was a type T personality-fearless.
He bought his first airplane, an EAA Biplane, kit-built, one seater, with money saved to pay our real estate taxes. One seater’s do not allow the luxury of a flying instructor. “I’ll learn by practicing alone”, he said. He crashed it, uninsured, into a shoulder-high corn field near Lone Rock airport while trying to do a loop-the-loop, unable to pull out of a dive. He flattened 20 rows of corn. The emergency room physician called in the local surgeon to stitch-up James’s lacerated nose. After pulling out pieces of green cornstalk from the gaping edges, the surgeon commented that he was trying not to leave any “additional scars”, thus bestowing on James a dubious honor. James was not destined to gain reputation for his face.
His next plane fared better—a J3 Piper-Cub, yellow and black, two seater, with wing struts, and only three dials to read in the open cockpit: altimeter, speed indicator, and oil pressure gauge. The gas level was measured by a floating dipstick on top of the engine. When it quit floating, you were out of gas. He loved the freedom that plane gave him. He could skim the landscape at 1000 feet, come in at tree-top level to say “hi”, and land on his own grassy hillside, in Black Earth Valley. Even Jack McManus (a Madison high profile criminal trial attorney) owned a J3. James knew he flew in good company. Views were spectacular from the passenger-seat, as well. People lining up for a “bird’s eye view” flight were not disappointed. Riders, usually patrons thrilled by flying tales at Club 14, would drive down the hill to the farm, climb in on the strut, and seat-belt themselves in while he spun the prop, to start the engine. A half-hour later, the tinny-drone of the J3’s big radial engine could be heard, and soon the rider would be back on the ground, grinning, impressively awestruck after viewing a 30 mile radius of their own house, including power and phone lines, cows and pasture, and the hills and valleys lining the Wisconsin River.
One sunny June afternoon at three o’clock, James had picked up my 15 year old daughter as a passenger and they departed to do the usual sky-cruising. The sky was perfect, big blue fluffy clouds, visibility unimpaired. After the usual 30 minutes, he decided it was time to start for home as the gas float was dropping. Taking a new route this time, he flew through the neighbor’s North-South valley, which required a left-hand bank to line up for landing on his usual grassy strip below the hillside. This made him forget the whereabouts of the East-West high power-lines running through the valley, a bad mistake.
Into the turn, he clipped that high power line with his prop causing the line to stretch, then break, flinging one broken end into dry grass, starting a grass fire, and draping the other end over the roof of our nearby barn to leave it sparking into space. Remarkably, he was able to land the plane, although the plane had wires wrapped around the prop, and a strut was broken. Miraculously, he and my daughter were uninjured. He picked a most unfortunate time and place to cause this accident, however, as he put out the electricity between Black Earth and Mount Horeb just at milking time, a memorable event to farmers. And the local volunteer fire department had to be summoned to put out the grass fire. As a result, area farmers were most interested to hear who had caused their miserable loss of electricity at that particular time of day, on a beautiful sunny afternoon. They remembered his name.
I’ll bet, if Club 14 were still open, you could walk in there any evening, approach the bar, and ask any farmer sitting morosely, with a mug of draft beer at the bar, if they knew ever heard of a James Redpath? “Oh”, they would say, brightening up, you mean “Crash Redpath. Let me tell you a story about one sunny June afternoon. ”
Two stood out, and I'm going to publish both of them here on my blog. Today's entry is by Cathy Prescott. It caught my eye initially because it takes place in the same part of Wisconsin where I live. Then again, it's just such a good story, I couldn't resist.
So congratulations to Cathy Prescott, my first winner, who will get a signed copy of the book and a T-shirt just as soon as she sends me her shirt size and address. Read her piece for yourself (and weep? laugh?). Tomorrow I'll bring you another installment of MR. WRONG: REAL-LIFE STORIES ABOUT THE MEN WE USED TO LOVE.
By the way, you can still enter (see the link above). The deadline was April 15 but, well, I'm easy about this stuff. And did you know that you, too, can have your very own MR. WRONG T-shirt? It's true. Send me an e-mail and I'll tell you how.
Crash Redpath
By Cathy Prescott
My former husband, James Redpath, was a flying nut. Maybe it stemmed from his days as a Green Beret, or maybe it was because he was a type T personality-fearless.
He bought his first airplane, an EAA Biplane, kit-built, one seater, with money saved to pay our real estate taxes. One seater’s do not allow the luxury of a flying instructor. “I’ll learn by practicing alone”, he said. He crashed it, uninsured, into a shoulder-high corn field near Lone Rock airport while trying to do a loop-the-loop, unable to pull out of a dive. He flattened 20 rows of corn. The emergency room physician called in the local surgeon to stitch-up James’s lacerated nose. After pulling out pieces of green cornstalk from the gaping edges, the surgeon commented that he was trying not to leave any “additional scars”, thus bestowing on James a dubious honor. James was not destined to gain reputation for his face.
His next plane fared better—a J3 Piper-Cub, yellow and black, two seater, with wing struts, and only three dials to read in the open cockpit: altimeter, speed indicator, and oil pressure gauge. The gas level was measured by a floating dipstick on top of the engine. When it quit floating, you were out of gas. He loved the freedom that plane gave him. He could skim the landscape at 1000 feet, come in at tree-top level to say “hi”, and land on his own grassy hillside, in Black Earth Valley. Even Jack McManus (a Madison high profile criminal trial attorney) owned a J3. James knew he flew in good company. Views were spectacular from the passenger-seat, as well. People lining up for a “bird’s eye view” flight were not disappointed. Riders, usually patrons thrilled by flying tales at Club 14, would drive down the hill to the farm, climb in on the strut, and seat-belt themselves in while he spun the prop, to start the engine. A half-hour later, the tinny-drone of the J3’s big radial engine could be heard, and soon the rider would be back on the ground, grinning, impressively awestruck after viewing a 30 mile radius of their own house, including power and phone lines, cows and pasture, and the hills and valleys lining the Wisconsin River.
One sunny June afternoon at three o’clock, James had picked up my 15 year old daughter as a passenger and they departed to do the usual sky-cruising. The sky was perfect, big blue fluffy clouds, visibility unimpaired. After the usual 30 minutes, he decided it was time to start for home as the gas float was dropping. Taking a new route this time, he flew through the neighbor’s North-South valley, which required a left-hand bank to line up for landing on his usual grassy strip below the hillside. This made him forget the whereabouts of the East-West high power-lines running through the valley, a bad mistake.
Into the turn, he clipped that high power line with his prop causing the line to stretch, then break, flinging one broken end into dry grass, starting a grass fire, and draping the other end over the roof of our nearby barn to leave it sparking into space. Remarkably, he was able to land the plane, although the plane had wires wrapped around the prop, and a strut was broken. Miraculously, he and my daughter were uninjured. He picked a most unfortunate time and place to cause this accident, however, as he put out the electricity between Black Earth and Mount Horeb just at milking time, a memorable event to farmers. And the local volunteer fire department had to be summoned to put out the grass fire. As a result, area farmers were most interested to hear who had caused their miserable loss of electricity at that particular time of day, on a beautiful sunny afternoon. They remembered his name.
I’ll bet, if Club 14 were still open, you could walk in there any evening, approach the bar, and ask any farmer sitting morosely, with a mug of draft beer at the bar, if they knew ever heard of a James Redpath? “Oh”, they would say, brightening up, you mean “Crash Redpath. Let me tell you a story about one sunny June afternoon. ”
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
There is no way to prevent anorexia
As I wrote the title of this post, I felt a wave of despair. Until a couple of days ago, I had never put this thought into words, never articulated it to myself. But it's true.
Two years ago I would have said of course you can prevent anorexia. I certainly never believed my daughter would develop it.
She was smart. She was funny. She was self-aware. She was eminently rational, and had been since toddlerhood. She watched no commercial TV. Her videos were carefully screened. She was a feminist before she started kindergarten.
Every kid in her sixth-grade class had to do a research paper on a subject of interest. She did hers on eating disorders. Looking back, I understand that that right there was a clue. At the time, I thought it made her safer because she had knowledge, she understood, and she was warned.
I thought that years of modeling a healthy attitude toward my own body would protect her. (I was fooling myself there, too, but I tried hard.)
But here's the thing: Nothing that she did or I did protected her from anorexia. Because there is no way to prevent an eating disorder.
If anorexia could be prevented, we wouldn't need to be talking about treatment. We wouldn't need to watch children suffer or families unravel.
I know from my own daughter's experience that knowledge does not prevent anorexia. She knew more about anorexia in sixth grade than many doctors do. She understood the dangers. More, she knew she was--as a gymnast and perfectionist--at risk. But it didn't help.
I'm all for the studies now being done on treatments for anorexia. They're long overdue. But where are the studies on prevention? Why is no one even asking the question of how to prevent anorexia and bulimia? Cynthia Bulik has looked at anorexia and twins--this would seem to be a perfect area of research for her.
We know that genetic predisposition plays a huge role in eating disorders. We know that environment can be a catalyst. How does the famous saying go? Genes load the gun and environment pulls the trigger. What we don't know is how to put the safety back on the gun. We'll never know until we start the scientific process of figuring it out: coming up with hypotheses, testing them, recording the results, making connections.
I've watched half a dozen young women I know--all of them bright, funny, well-read, engaging--fall prey to anorexia. I can look around at the young teenagers I know and predict, now, who's at risk. It's like watching a train wreck in slow motion.
Treatment is crucial. God knows we need better treatments for anorexia. Maudsley treatment is the best we've got so far, and it saved my daughter's life. I'm grateful. But it's not enough. Enough is when we can keep kids from becoming anorexic in the first place.
I don't have the answers. Maybe it's a combination of things: a vaccine, education, behavior modification in those at risk. I don't know. But I do know that until we start asking the question, we'll never find an answer.
Two years ago I would have said of course you can prevent anorexia. I certainly never believed my daughter would develop it.
She was smart. She was funny. She was self-aware. She was eminently rational, and had been since toddlerhood. She watched no commercial TV. Her videos were carefully screened. She was a feminist before she started kindergarten.
Every kid in her sixth-grade class had to do a research paper on a subject of interest. She did hers on eating disorders. Looking back, I understand that that right there was a clue. At the time, I thought it made her safer because she had knowledge, she understood, and she was warned.
I thought that years of modeling a healthy attitude toward my own body would protect her. (I was fooling myself there, too, but I tried hard.)
But here's the thing: Nothing that she did or I did protected her from anorexia. Because there is no way to prevent an eating disorder.
If anorexia could be prevented, we wouldn't need to be talking about treatment. We wouldn't need to watch children suffer or families unravel.
I know from my own daughter's experience that knowledge does not prevent anorexia. She knew more about anorexia in sixth grade than many doctors do. She understood the dangers. More, she knew she was--as a gymnast and perfectionist--at risk. But it didn't help.
I'm all for the studies now being done on treatments for anorexia. They're long overdue. But where are the studies on prevention? Why is no one even asking the question of how to prevent anorexia and bulimia? Cynthia Bulik has looked at anorexia and twins--this would seem to be a perfect area of research for her.
We know that genetic predisposition plays a huge role in eating disorders. We know that environment can be a catalyst. How does the famous saying go? Genes load the gun and environment pulls the trigger. What we don't know is how to put the safety back on the gun. We'll never know until we start the scientific process of figuring it out: coming up with hypotheses, testing them, recording the results, making connections.
I've watched half a dozen young women I know--all of them bright, funny, well-read, engaging--fall prey to anorexia. I can look around at the young teenagers I know and predict, now, who's at risk. It's like watching a train wreck in slow motion.
Treatment is crucial. God knows we need better treatments for anorexia. Maudsley treatment is the best we've got so far, and it saved my daughter's life. I'm grateful. But it's not enough. Enough is when we can keep kids from becoming anorexic in the first place.
I don't have the answers. Maybe it's a combination of things: a vaccine, education, behavior modification in those at risk. I don't know. But I do know that until we start asking the question, we'll never find an answer.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Clinton's crusade
Bill Clinton's new crusade against obesity is making headlines and blogs around the world. The media just can't resist the image of a formerly fat former president calling for more ammo in the war against obesity.
If only Clinton would harness his power for good--imagine what he could accomplish!
Don't get me wrong--I'm an FOB (fan of Bill's) from way back. But I sure wish he'd take a stand for something truly meaningful, like national health insurance or truly meaningful mental health parity. Or how about pushing for an hour-long school lunch, like the French have? Or daily recess for all schoolkids?
And hey, Bill, as you wield your influence for the good of children everywhere, I hope you will take the time to educate yourself about eating disorders. I hope your efforts stay focused on supporting children's health in all ways rather than fat-bashing--which we all know is ineffective at best and cruelly destructive at worst. I would hate to see more of what helped trigger my daughter into food restricting and, ultimately, anorexia: mindless labeling of "good" foods and "bad" foods, fear-mongering at the table, and more prejudice against those who don't conform to cultural ideals.
If only Clinton would harness his power for good--imagine what he could accomplish!
Don't get me wrong--I'm an FOB (fan of Bill's) from way back. But I sure wish he'd take a stand for something truly meaningful, like national health insurance or truly meaningful mental health parity. Or how about pushing for an hour-long school lunch, like the French have? Or daily recess for all schoolkids?
And hey, Bill, as you wield your influence for the good of children everywhere, I hope you will take the time to educate yourself about eating disorders. I hope your efforts stay focused on supporting children's health in all ways rather than fat-bashing--which we all know is ineffective at best and cruelly destructive at worst. I would hate to see more of what helped trigger my daughter into food restricting and, ultimately, anorexia: mindless labeling of "good" foods and "bad" foods, fear-mongering at the table, and more prejudice against those who don't conform to cultural ideals.
Friday, April 13, 2007
The Missing Link
In the lexicon of sensationalized news stories, there are none quite as poignant as stories like this headline from the Times of London: "15st boy is taken from grandparents who lost their daughter to anorexia."
The story goes on to describe, in horrified tones, how a 10-year-old Spanish boy was removed from his grandparents' custody after they overfed him until he reached 200 pounds. The story goes on, predictably, to quote experts familiar with the case as well as those who were not about the dangers of obesity, how obesity is on the rise, etc. etc.
Buried up near the front of the piece is a crucial nugget of information, mentioned once and never referred to again. The grandparents had custody in the first place because the boy's mother had died of anorexia.
It's tragic that no one quoted in this story (and for all I know, in the boy's life) has made the connection between his mother's death from anorexia, his grandparents' feeding behavior, and his own eating. Imagine watching your daughter or your mother starve herself to death. Imagine the grief, the guilt, the disbelief and lack of understanding. Of course that has an effect on everyone's relationship to food.
Authorities took the boy away from his grandparents and put him on a diet. They report that he has now lost more than 20kg and that they'd like to return him to his grandparents' custody. The story goes on: "But they say the grandparent remain “in denial” that their feeding habits are a problem – health officials said that they even tried to smuggle chocolate biscuits to him during their weekly visits. “The problem is that the grandparents still don’t understand that they were harming the lad and seriously placing his life and future at risk,” Ms Fernández said."
What will it take for us to look at the relationship with food and eating as a whole package and not isolated bits of pathology? My heart goes out to this boy and his grandparents.
The story goes on to describe, in horrified tones, how a 10-year-old Spanish boy was removed from his grandparents' custody after they overfed him until he reached 200 pounds. The story goes on, predictably, to quote experts familiar with the case as well as those who were not about the dangers of obesity, how obesity is on the rise, etc. etc.
Buried up near the front of the piece is a crucial nugget of information, mentioned once and never referred to again. The grandparents had custody in the first place because the boy's mother had died of anorexia.
It's tragic that no one quoted in this story (and for all I know, in the boy's life) has made the connection between his mother's death from anorexia, his grandparents' feeding behavior, and his own eating. Imagine watching your daughter or your mother starve herself to death. Imagine the grief, the guilt, the disbelief and lack of understanding. Of course that has an effect on everyone's relationship to food.
Authorities took the boy away from his grandparents and put him on a diet. They report that he has now lost more than 20kg and that they'd like to return him to his grandparents' custody. The story goes on: "But they say the grandparent remain “in denial” that their feeding habits are a problem – health officials said that they even tried to smuggle chocolate biscuits to him during their weekly visits. “The problem is that the grandparents still don’t understand that they were harming the lad and seriously placing his life and future at risk,” Ms Fernández said."
What will it take for us to look at the relationship with food and eating as a whole package and not isolated bits of pathology? My heart goes out to this boy and his grandparents.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Listen to Mr. Wrong
Yesterday I was interviewed by Deborah Harper of Psychjourney about MR. WRONG: REAL-LIFE STORIES ABOUT THE MEN WE USED TO LOVE. She was one of the most thoughtful interviewers I've come across, and I'm pleased with how it turned out.
So just in case you're interested, I'm going to try to post the link to the interview here. You can always email me and I'll send you the MP3 file if this doesn't work.
So just in case you're interested, I'm going to try to post the link to the interview here. You can always email me and I'll send you the MP3 file if this doesn't work.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
To Diet or Not to Diet?
Just in case you were wondering, the answer is pretty clear: Diets don't work. But then we all know this already, don't we?
Part of my daughter's recovery from anorexia has been to reconnect with her own feelings of hunger and fullness. For a long while she never felt hungry--or at least, she never felt a physical sensation she could identify as hunger. I think she was very hungry underneath the anorexic mind that temporarily took over hers. The most emotional moment of her recovery was the day she called me at work to say, "Mom, I'm hungry!"
I've never been anorexic. But I, too, had to learn to feel hunger again after years of training myself not to. I had to experience the scary feeling of being hungry and reassure myself that I would eat, that I would feed myself--and that I would stop eating when I wasn't hungry anymore.
I grew up dieting and binging. That's what we Jersey girls did in the 1960s and 70s, especially if our mothers lectured here. And while I never unearthed a treasure like this one, I did effectively divorce myself from every feeling having to do with food.
Too bad I couldn't divorce myself from the self-loathing that dieting--and falling off the diet--regularly imposed.
Whichever end of the spectrum you approach it from, dieting looks pretty lame. It's a multi-billion-dollar industry, and that's why it still has street cred, despite the crummy statistics around its efficacy--only 2% of dieters keep their weight off, according to the UCLA researchers.
I feel the same about dieting as I do about using illegal drugs: I sure wish I hadn't done that when I was young and naive and ill-informed.
So those of you who might be on the fence about it: Just say no.
Part of my daughter's recovery from anorexia has been to reconnect with her own feelings of hunger and fullness. For a long while she never felt hungry--or at least, she never felt a physical sensation she could identify as hunger. I think she was very hungry underneath the anorexic mind that temporarily took over hers. The most emotional moment of her recovery was the day she called me at work to say, "Mom, I'm hungry!"
I've never been anorexic. But I, too, had to learn to feel hunger again after years of training myself not to. I had to experience the scary feeling of being hungry and reassure myself that I would eat, that I would feed myself--and that I would stop eating when I wasn't hungry anymore.
I grew up dieting and binging. That's what we Jersey girls did in the 1960s and 70s, especially if our mothers lectured here. And while I never unearthed a treasure like this one, I did effectively divorce myself from every feeling having to do with food.
Too bad I couldn't divorce myself from the self-loathing that dieting--and falling off the diet--regularly imposed.
Whichever end of the spectrum you approach it from, dieting looks pretty lame. It's a multi-billion-dollar industry, and that's why it still has street cred, despite the crummy statistics around its efficacy--only 2% of dieters keep their weight off, according to the UCLA researchers.
I feel the same about dieting as I do about using illegal drugs: I sure wish I hadn't done that when I was young and naive and ill-informed.
So those of you who might be on the fence about it: Just say no.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Of pregnancy and fat phobia
Another post from Sandy Szwarc highlights the peculiar and dare I say twisted mentality that comes from living in a culture that's fat phobic in the extreme. Szwarc's talking about the latest media anti-fat media blitz, this one focused on the relationship between weight gained in pregnancy and overweight toddlers. Specifically, according to the study's authors, women who gain even the accepted amount of weight during pregnancy run four times the risk of having a child who's overweight at age 3.
Scary, huh? Apparently much scarier than another finding buried in the study, which received neither headlines nor any media attention: the fact that women who didn't gain enough weight during pregnancy had double the risk of having a baby with intrauterine growth retardation. According to Szwarc, Babies with IUGR are at vastly higher risks of stillbirth and serious medical problems during infancy if they do survive.
This reminds me of the recent study published in the New England Journal of Medicine, which found that being underweight or of "normal" weight (and let's not even go there for now) correlated with higher rates of mortality than being overweight. (Thanks to Paul Campos for writing about this!) This unpopular finding has been scrutinized and rationalized to death, because apparently it's unbelievable that having nutritional reserves (i.e., being fat) could possibly confer any health benefits.
This, in turn, reminds me of the way doctors and therapists who treat eating disorders sometimes fall inadvertently into the language and perspective of those eating disorders. How people with anorexia can walk around at weights that are dangerous, yet no one notices because we've been so conditioned to think that thin = healthy and good.
Apparently we live in a culture where death is preferable to being fat. Even for babies. Even for toddlers.
Some years ago I dealt with this in my own life, after a severe depression sent me into a tailspin (what would have no doubt been called a nervous breakdown 60 years ago). Antidepressants lifted the fog and gave me my life back. They also, over a period of 5 years, led to a 50-pound weight gain. To me it was no contest: I'd rather be sane and happy and fat than thinner and miserable.
I wonder how many people would agree with me?
Scary, huh? Apparently much scarier than another finding buried in the study, which received neither headlines nor any media attention: the fact that women who didn't gain enough weight during pregnancy had double the risk of having a baby with intrauterine growth retardation. According to Szwarc, Babies with IUGR are at vastly higher risks of stillbirth and serious medical problems during infancy if they do survive.
This reminds me of the recent study published in the New England Journal of Medicine, which found that being underweight or of "normal" weight (and let's not even go there for now) correlated with higher rates of mortality than being overweight. (Thanks to Paul Campos for writing about this!) This unpopular finding has been scrutinized and rationalized to death, because apparently it's unbelievable that having nutritional reserves (i.e., being fat) could possibly confer any health benefits.
This, in turn, reminds me of the way doctors and therapists who treat eating disorders sometimes fall inadvertently into the language and perspective of those eating disorders. How people with anorexia can walk around at weights that are dangerous, yet no one notices because we've been so conditioned to think that thin = healthy and good.
Apparently we live in a culture where death is preferable to being fat. Even for babies. Even for toddlers.
Some years ago I dealt with this in my own life, after a severe depression sent me into a tailspin (what would have no doubt been called a nervous breakdown 60 years ago). Antidepressants lifted the fog and gave me my life back. They also, over a period of 5 years, led to a 50-pound weight gain. To me it was no contest: I'd rather be sane and happy and fat than thinner and miserable.
I wonder how many people would agree with me?
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