I'm having one of those days where I got one of those scared straight type of chills up my spine. Kinda foreboding or at a minimum, a warning for me, if I were to ever think for one moment, that as a WLS post-opper that I am ever going to be "normal."
I'm having my first lunch, a pint of wonton-egg drop soup, and a friendly co-worker is there too. Unexpectedly. So we sat and chatted. Talked very briefly about a scenario where another co-IRKER of ours is grating on my last nerve, the last interaction of which involved him grabbing a piece of candy off another co-worker's desk and attempting to hand it to me, KNOWING, VISIBLY, OBVIOUSLY, I've lost A LOT of weight, and perhaps I'd like to keep it off, he said, "As if you're not sweet enough..." and attempts to hand it to me. I wave it off and say thank you and try to get on with it. Anyway... back to lunch...
So lovely co-worker and I were talking and he mentioned in passing, in hushed tones, "You know who's gaining weight?" And I nodded. "I know." It's She-who-is-the-workhorse in the office. Management has not even attempted to get us a temp to help cover phones while the Slacker is on maternity leave. Even though "I" take my allotted lunch hour (though I don't take my 15 minute breaks as our union contracts ensure), SHE takes it upon herself to sit at her desk and work through lunch. Which, to be blunt, is unhealthy, and I dare say could lead to undoing a lot of her good work. I said as much to lovely co-worker, and we got on with our lunch.
But it's worried me long before this chat. I noticed in passing that SHE seemed a bit heavier. I didn't know if it was weight gain or if it was just wearing more form fitting clothing or what. It's none of my business. I'd love to just say to her, "You must look out for your health and well being. At least get up and walk around in the afternoon sun. Don't let this place destroy all your good work." But I thought the better of it. It's truly none of my business.
I mean, I'd want to be supportive. I don't want to seem like the newly converted, as I'm still less than two years out from my own surgery. Who am I? How dare I even THINK of meddling in someone's personal shit, yanno?
Where does meddling truly start and support actually end?
But it IS sobering. I pack a lunch every day. Granted, I eat what I want, but measured amounts. I know I'm not active. Not by a long stretch, whereas SHE IS.
Our journeys may have had similar starts, and similar paths, but like everything in life, I cannot compare my journey to someone else's. I'm only responsible to myself FOR myself and my actions.
I guess I should just wish her well in the cosmic sense of wishing well, and hope this place doesn't eat her (and all her good work) alive.
No comments:
Post a Comment