Fat Camp Leads to all the Skinny Things

Pack your bags, baby!

"Melanie? Come downstairs! Your doctors appointment is in 20 minutes!"
My mom loved to yell.
Ah, the appointment I had been dreading for months.
My physical.
It's when they check your weight, height, and blood to make sure that you're being good and a model of health.
And that's where my problem begins. I like Netflix and pizza and ice cream and all the bad things.
It's not my fault that I was raised this way. My best friend, Chelsea, has vegan parents and she's the poster child for health.
My mom honks the car horn four times in a row, signaling that she's about to have a cow.
I grab my phone and bag while frantically running out of the house, locking the door behind me.
"Okay! So first we're going to your appointment and then I'm dropping you back home so I can go to work."
"Sounds good."
It took about 10 minutes to get there, and right when we were parking, my mom started to look deep in thought.
"Melanie? Can I ask you something?"
"Yeah mom?"
"Do you think I'm a good mom? Am I doing my job?"
"Of course. I love you mom. No matter what."
She huffed and smiled up at me.
"Alright. Let's get you in there."
The line was ridiculously long. Children were screaming, parents looked defeated, and I got a free sticker. I couldn't wait until I was 18, and I'd be free from pediatrics. Two more long years ahead of me.
Once we finally sat down, the nurse called my name.
"Hi my name is Trisha. Go ahead and step on the scale for me."
Uh oh.
The one part that sends shivers down my neck and makes me want to die. Good thing my mom is in the waiting room, otherwise this would be more embarrassing than it needed to be.
"Melanie? Are you alright?"
I looked at her and smiled, trying to let her know I was okay, even though I was clearly not.
I slipped off my shoes and stepped on. The numbers bounced around and I put my hands on the cool metal bars to calm my nerves.
"250!"
Thank you, Trisha, for letting the world know.
"Wow. Alright step under the measuring stick."
After that humiliating display, she led me into the back to ask me questions.
"Are you sexually active?"
What a forward way to start a conversation.
"Are homeless people rich?"
She didn't like my snarky tone.
"Look, just say yes or no, alright?"
"No, I'm not."
"Are you allergic to any medications?"
"Nope."
"Do you think you're pregnant?"
"No."
"Are you aware that you're overweight?"
Ouch. That one kinda hurt.
"Yeah.. I guess."
"The doctor will be talking to you about that. She'll be right in."
When Trisha left, she slammed the door behind her.
Honestly, I'm glad she left because she was getting to be a bit much.
After waiting for 45 minutes, my doctor rushed in with an exasperated look on her face.
"Do you know how difficult it is to give babies shots? They just squirm and scream and.. ugh."
I laughed and shook my head.
"Anyway, sorry about the wait. You're Melanie right?"
"Yup. That's me."
"Alright good. So, on your chart it says you're due for a physical. There's something on here that's a little alarming, and I hope you don't mind that I talk about it with you. I'd like to bring your mother in too if that's okay."
"My mom? Why?"
"I have a plan to fix your problem but I need her consent."
"What's my problem?"
I could tell she was really trying to be polite, but there's no beating around the bush. I knew where this was going.
My mom walked into the room and patted my head.
"What's this about? Is my baby okay?"
The doctor gave her a sympathetic look, like her dog just died.
"Well.. for a girl that's 16 and 5'8, your daughter should be 140-160 pounds. But in her case, she's 250 pounds. 90 pounds overweight."
My mom started to cry and I sunk into my chair. This isn't how I wanted to spend the first day of summer vacation.
My mom blubbered a number of phrases, but her most frequently used one was "what do I do?" And "how can I help her?"
My doctor had a don't-worry look on her face, which concerned me to say the least.
"That's the thing. I have the perfect solution, but I'll need your consent. It'll help your daughter 100%."
"Yes please! Anything!"
They were talking about me like I wasn't even in the room.
"It's a camp. It's for two months, and it's all covered by health insurance. She'll learn to become healthy, eat right, and exercise. Almost everyone I've sent there came back with lots of weight loss and kept losing weight even after they got back. What do you say?"
My mom kind of pondered for a second, looking back and forth and me and my doctor.
"If you think this is for the best, then yes. She can go."
"Great! If you'll just sign this paperwork, we'll be on our way! The program starts tomorrow night, so she'll have time to pack and say her goodbyes to her friends. I promise you, Miss, she'll come back a much better person."
"Thank you for doing this for her. It's so hard watching her do this to herself you know?"
I was astonished. I couldn't believe she was talking about me like this. What made her think that I was going? There's no way in hell I could be forced to do this.
-
After we left the office, I sat in the car, silent.
"Melanie? Talk to me please."
All I could do was glare. I couldn't believe she was just shipping me off.
"I don't know what to tell you. I just want what's best for you. Don't be a little brat."
We pulled up to the house and I got out, slamming the door.
"I'll be home at 8pm okay? Just pack your stuff please. I don't want to do it for you."
And just like that, my mom took off to work.
Bored out of my mind, I put on my bathing suit and decided to go for a swim. The only time I'll ever swim is when nobody can see me.
I was in the water for a good 2 hours. Time flies when you are about to be shipped off somewhere.
After I showered off the chlorine, I got in comfy pajamas and sat on the couch, pulling up Netflix. It's only 1pm, so I figured nothing good would be on regular tv.
After about 10 minutes, the kitchen was calling my name.
I yanked open the fridge and pulled out last nights dinner; spaghetti and meatballs.
Instead of getting a smaller bowl, I put the whole leftover jar into the microwave and waited patiently for my little piece of heaven to be done.
After one jar of leftovers and 5 episodes of The Walking Dead, I decided to pack. If I had to go, I guess I would pretend to be happy about it. Maybe I could run away into the woods and live with a wolf pack. They'd like me. I would keep them warm in the winter with all my fat.
I packed everything from shirts to sunscreen because god knows what'll happen. It's not like my doctor, Satan, gave me a list of items to bring.
Because the time was alright 7pm and I didn't want to see my mother at the moment, I popped some sleeping pills and thought I may as well get an early start on sleep.