Anchors A-Weigh

Earlier today I received a phone call from my travel agent. Apparently, the cruise line I'm taking is requesting my weight in the wheelchair, for any excursion I might take. I keep asking myself why this would even be necessary - I'm assuming it's for the lift. Wouldn't it be a kinder and gentler way to ask if a person's anatomical mass is larger than say, 350 pds, you can not take the lift?

Listen, even if I weighed 115 pds (which I haven't seen on a scale since I was 18) I wouldn't want to disclose my weight. It's hard enough to hop on one of those little monsters when I'm alone, now I have to tell my travel agent, who will then record it on a document to be faxed to a complete stranger in a HUGE company - and then what? Where does it go from there? Am I going to have people pointing at me and whisper as they turn away in disgust, "There she is - there's the beast!!" I know I'm exaggerating but what can I do?

Ummm, I sent an email to my travel agent. Here's what I wrote:

Hey Mary -

Sorry I didn't get back with you earlier. I started taking a new medication and it knocked me out today; plus gave me some icky bathroom side effects which I won't go into but guess what? When you're woozy, in a wheelchair and have to potty? Sometimes you DO wish for a diaper - but only for a second. On the positive side, I'm hoping that I might weigh a few pounds lighter after today's escapades. I doubt it but a girl can hope.



I'll get to the weigh in tomorrow. Sooooo looking forward to yet another reminder about how much weight I've gained since this all happened to me. It's not enough that I'm looking at a possible future of elastic waistbands and oversized t-shirts; now I have to record my weight for a company of strangers to look at for "their records". Sigh. At least I get to travel - fat but I'm travelling.



Anyhooo, I'm going back to business. Apparently the meds have not finished wringing every last drop of food and water left in my body. Betcha once they're finished the meds will then cause me to retain water. It always happens. A brief shining moment of "ooh, my pants are loose" to "oof, I can't get my foot in my shoe. What the hell!!" Such is my life. Gotta love it.



Talk to you in the morning. If I sound echo-y, you'll know that I'm near a big, porcelain receptacle. Do not be alarmed.



Jess



p.s. This msg was brought to you by a very tired, very woozy Scooter Girl - me. Hope I didn't offend but I'm owning it.



p.s.s. Just who are the buzzkills that want to know a person's weight? Don't they realize that asking a woman this question could lead to justifiable assault with a Twinkie? Or a big messy sandwich? Phhht to those nosy Europeans.