Tuesday, 1 December 2009

Visit to the Dietician


My husband’s insidious weight gain has driven us to the last resort, the dietician. This is after years of various diets, including the blood test one - he lost 20 kilos that time and got medals for achievement when he was the only man on Weigh-Less in our area (all put back now, but slowly over about 7 years.) However, it is the last straw when trying on 5 pairs of size 38 trousers in the same shop, and only one fits. The other four can’t all have been cut too small for their professed size? So off we went. A delightful young, slim lady, unmarried, no children and only cooks for herself - probably my daughter’s age, ushered us into her smart office. Thence followed an hour-long appointment (bill to match) which basically yielded nothing new to us seasoned dieters but we tried to match her enthusiasm and we all deduced finally that there was nothing much wrong with my husband’s current diet (based as it is on previous experience) - but his lack of exercise was the glaring fly in the ointment. We duly promised for the nth time that this would be rectified, half an hour a day every day. I was asked to pick up the ‘eating plan’ two days later. When I went for this I thought I would just pick up an envelope, but no, another hour-long appointment to ‘explain’ the self-explanatory two- page plan (bill to match). At one point I was unable to totally conceal my impatience and the young lady said that I looked a bit depressed. I couldn’t tell her that I had washing in my machine that had to be dried and ironed for my husband’s business trip the next day, nor that I was bored to my toenails with eating and cooking suggestions - having cooked non-stop for the last thirty years, nor that my husband will not eat spinach, lemon juice, brussel sprouts, any fresh herbs etc. Most especially I couldn’t tell her that the only reason we had come was in the hope that she would sanction his daily double whiskey as stress release. Naturally, this was the first thing to go. The only thing we hadn’t known before was that you can’t use virgin olive oil to cook with. Apparently, when hot, it mutates into as much of a villain as fully saturated fat!!! Dieters may only cook ‘dry’, add things like fruit juices and scatter a bit of olive oil on your food afterwards. We may use oats as a substitute for gravy - but that sounds like a sludgy mess to me but we’ll give it a go. We’ll start next week.

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