Meeting The Nutritionist
I was prepared not to like Dr Lamansky. People had told me a lot about him, much of it negative. I had been forewarned that he was cocky, a pompous ass, and overly sure of himself. But I dealt with doctors like him every day and I was prepared to do what I had to do to get clearance for my surgery. I tried not to let my nerves and irritation get to me as I waited to see him, tapping my foot and rifling through magazine after magazine. Two hours after my appointment time, my name was called.
He entered the room without knocking.
"What do you want?"
"I'm here for nutritional support and clearance for my gastric bypass."
"What kind?"
"The gastric sleeve"
"Good"
After that brief exchange, our relationship was set. He asked the questions and I answered them as best I could before he asked the next, frequently interrupting and not waiting for my answer. Clearly he was not interested in the emotional hold that food has on me.
"I tell you what I think. I'm worried that you see this as a cure, not as a tool." I started to respond but he was not looking for one. He was back to pounding the keyboard on his computer, his gold bracelet clicking with each key stroked. After peppering me with several more questions, reviewing my labs, weight, and waist dimensions, he announced, “lose 5-10 more pounds and I'll clear you for surgery, how long will it take?"
"A month"
"A month to lose 5 pounds! How about two weeks?" He glanced toward me with a look of scorn.
"You said 5-10 pounds; 10 pounds will take me a month." I replied barely keeping my frustration in check.
He stopped for a minute, stroking his overly groomed, fuh man chu beard and mustache and said "fine call me when you lose 5 pounds and I'll clear you."
As he was walking me out, he turned to look at me and said, "You'll get your surgery, lose weight and then you will be happy." I stopped mid step and looked him in the eyes, "the key to my happiness is not how much I weigh, I want to be healthy". Dr Lamansky looked at me like I was crazy. It was the first time the entire appointment that our eyes met.
Now I knew I didn't like him.
He entered the room without knocking.
"What do you want?"
"I'm here for nutritional support and clearance for my gastric bypass."
"What kind?"
"The gastric sleeve"
"Good"
After that brief exchange, our relationship was set. He asked the questions and I answered them as best I could before he asked the next, frequently interrupting and not waiting for my answer. Clearly he was not interested in the emotional hold that food has on me.
"I tell you what I think. I'm worried that you see this as a cure, not as a tool." I started to respond but he was not looking for one. He was back to pounding the keyboard on his computer, his gold bracelet clicking with each key stroked. After peppering me with several more questions, reviewing my labs, weight, and waist dimensions, he announced, “lose 5-10 more pounds and I'll clear you for surgery, how long will it take?"
"A month"
"A month to lose 5 pounds! How about two weeks?" He glanced toward me with a look of scorn.
"You said 5-10 pounds; 10 pounds will take me a month." I replied barely keeping my frustration in check.
He stopped for a minute, stroking his overly groomed, fuh man chu beard and mustache and said "fine call me when you lose 5 pounds and I'll clear you."
As he was walking me out, he turned to look at me and said, "You'll get your surgery, lose weight and then you will be happy." I stopped mid step and looked him in the eyes, "the key to my happiness is not how much I weigh, I want to be healthy". Dr Lamansky looked at me like I was crazy. It was the first time the entire appointment that our eyes met.
Now I knew I didn't like him.
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