Samuel A. Kojoglanian, MD, FACC, FSCAI
I remember seeing Ken eight years ago and begging him to lose weight. He served our country as a Marine in his young 20’s when he weighed 170 pounds. Now in his 50’s, Ken is 290 pounds.
He is on 12 medications, including insulin injections which he needs twice daily. At nights he uses a machine to help him sleep because he has severe sleep apnea (stops breathing for a few seconds due to excess neck weight).
When he walked in the office recently, he looked like a different Ken. He now sported an oxygen tank with tubing that connected the tank to his nostrils providing continuous oxygen to his lungs. His blond hair had turned white, and his strong back was bent with humility.
Ken’s routine for years had been getting home after 7PM, sitting in front of the television and eating dinner as he watched his favorite shows. His favorite meal was potato chips and ice cream. His favorite drink was diet Coke. His favorite move was walking to the fridge. And his favorite saying was, “It’s not that bad, I’ll stop this one day.”
“One day” has come, and Ken had aged in a matter of 2 months. He was recently hospitalized for congestive heart failure, where fluid backed up from a weakened heart and filled his lungs. My heart broke as I watched him wheel in his oxygen tank. My eyes filled with tears when he said, “Have you seen the new me?” And my spirit sank when he said, “I thought it wasn’t so bad, until I had to carry this tank; I guess what hurts the most is that all this is a self inflicted wound.”
There was no room in my heart to say, “I told you so! You should have listened. Look at you now. Some fine mess you’re in! Your ‘one day’ has come!”
We’re all human and we all ere. We all have our downfalls. But can you give me one second to tell you that you don’t have to continue in your ways. You don’t have to suffer like Ken. You don’t have to live in guilt or failure. Sufficient food sustains you. Excess food kills you. You can make a difference in your life now! Please, listen to me, before that “one day” knocks on the door of your heart.