Evelyn

Posted on by

Some blogs take me longer to write than others. This one, I started four years ago, shortly after my grandmother, Evelyn, died suddenly of a stroke at 95 years old. Ravaged by Alzheimer’s, her memory had badly deteriorated, and she was residing in a senior living facility with a great staff who cared for her.

The latter point is at least the rumor because I do not know firsthand; I never actually visited her there. My grandmother and I had not seen each other in probably a couple of years when she passed. Although her memory problems were at first an annoyance to which we responded with humor – for example, my father would respond to her “How’s work?” questions with “Fine” rather than remind her that he was retired – her memory grew more concerning over time. First, she called my wife by the wrong name, then forgot her name entirely. My fear was that I would walk into her room and hear, “Who are you?” That would have been tough to take.

My grandmother was a complicated person. Everybody has challenges, some more than others, and she quite often met hers with twists of the truth. If you knew Evelyn well, then you know exactly what I mean. So the distance that divided us in recent years was both of my own making and her limitations.

Before that though, our relationship was solid. Although Evelyn was a reluctant mother who never truly embraced parenthood and the life changes that it requires, grandmotherhood was an entirely different story, and she was damn good at it. That included great-grandmotherhood. At a family gathering close to a decade ago, my niece and nephew were acting a bit rambunctiously and ignoring their parents’ directives to calm down. Their great-grandmother came over and said to the kids, “Let’s have a contest to see who can stay quietest the longest.” Right away, both children went silent. My brother turned to me, shocked. “I can’t believe that actually worked!”

My three favorite memories of my grandmother are as follows:

  1. When I was little – and I mean little, like nursery school or early elementary school little – she handed me a couple of dollars, as my grandparents often generously did when they visited. Not meaning it as a hint, but rather just stating a fact, I told her that I was just a couple more dollars shy of being able to buy a Dukes of Hazzard toy that I wanted. Right away, she reached into her pocket and gave me the money I needed. Thirty-something years later, that generous move has stuck with me.
  2. My brother and I occasionally had sleepovers at my grandparents’ condo. Typically, I stayed in one room with my grandmother while my brother shared a room with my grandfather. One evening, they switched things up, which did not go over well. Faced with the prospect of spending the night with my grandfather, I began crying. And then, apparently, I did not stop. I remember him, totally at a loss, calling for his wife, “Ev, he’s crying!” We switched back to the traditional configuration. In the morning, I woke up to find my grandmother looking at me and smiling, and I remember feeling very comfortable and safe.
  3. My grandparents visited us practically every Sunday except during the winters when they migrated to Florida. Each week, Evelyn arrived with food, including baked goods of various qualities. When I was a teenager, she caught wind of my liking peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Every Sunday, for weeks and weeks on end, she showed up with PB&J she had made for me. Peanut butter and jelly is cool and all, but there is a limit. Afraid of offending her, I was wary of asking her to stop, yet I could see no end in sight. Anxiously, I dreaded waves of weekly sandwiches that could potentially keep coming until I went away to college. Still, I certainly appreciated the kindness behind her gesture, and that is what I remember most.

Food was a source of stress with my grandmother in other ways, too. As is typical of people who lived through the Great Depression, both she and my grandfather hated to waste food themselves, and it irked them when others did as well. Americans often forget that it was not too long ago in our history that food scarcity was a widespread and significant problem. Some of the original dietary guidelines from the 1940s emphasized the importance of butter and sugar because so many calorie-starved young men were failing their military physicals. Today, our area food banks and the lines outside food pantries are evidence that many of our neighbors still struggle to get enough sustenance.

People who have experienced food shortages oftentimes rebound by eating too much when food eventually becomes plentiful again. Virtually anybody who has ever dieted can relate to this, as food scarcity is often self-imposed. For Evelyn, these behaviors became so ingrained that decades later she still cleaned her plate and expressed dismay if others left food. “But there are starving people in China!” she would exclaim, as if someone overeating in Boston would make any difference whatsoever for a malnourished individual on the other side of the globe.

Eating with my grandparents was stressful, as I never liked being told to continue eating when I knew I was already full. To my parents’ credit, they stood up for me and overrode my grandparents’ commands. Still, the tension made family meals unpleasant because I felt pressure from both grandparents to eat past the point of comfortable fullness. They would comment if the portion I served myself seemed too small to them, and I certainly heard about it if I left food on my plate.

It took me years to figure out why I sometimes get anxious eating in restaurants, but through working on my own relationship with food, now I understand that it traces back to my grandparents. If a portion is set in front of me that I assess as more than I can comfortably eat, the anxiety sets in, the enjoyment of eating diminishes, and then the internal questioning begins. What fraction of the meal must I eat to feel confident that the waitstaff will not get mad at me? Can I entice my wife to eat some of it? Will anybody notice if I hide food in my napkin?

Rationally, I know the truth is that the waitstaff probably do not care how much I eat. So long as I pay for the food, how much of it I eat is irrelevant to them. If they do judge my consumption, it probably has more to do with disturbances in their own relationships with food or perhaps fear that I did not enjoy my meal.

Irrationally though, I continue to project my grandparents’ judgment onto the waitstaff. My work is ongoing, and I know that eventually I will overcome this, but in the meantime, I have figured out some workarounds that mitigate my anxiety while also honoring my body’s intuitive eating cues. For example, I may ask the waitstaff to pack up the remainder of my meal even if I know I will dispose of the leftovers as soon as we leave. One might argue that is a waste of packing materials, a valid point, but it is certainly a better choice than using my body as a garbage disposal.

Sometimes, I challenge myself. If I feel particularly courageous, I will just leave a heap of food on my plate, ask the waitstaff to take it away, and see how they react. In literally every single case, the waitstaff have never made a comment about the amount that I have left. Seeing the juxtaposition between my fears and reality has helped significantly, but the process continues.

Few of you care about my grandmother and my own food woes, a reality to which I take no offense, but all of this is meant to illustrate that the work we do in my office is typically deeper than people expect. In order to create meaningful change, we often have to look beyond calories and grams and instead focus on how people make decisions about what, when, and how much to eat. Doing so may involve examining the historical influences that shaped one’s current eating behaviors, which in turn paves the way for moving into the future with a healthier relationship with food.

The Natural Purple Pill?

Posted on by

At this year’s Cardiometabolic Health Congress, a cardiologist I will call “Dr. Q” began his nutrition presentation with a factoid: 90% of cardiologists reported zero or minimal nutrition education, yet 95% of them felt it was their personal responsibility to discuss it. Meanwhile, 61% of the public thinks that doctors are “very credible” sources of nutrition information.

In other words, we have doctors who do not know what they are talking about talking about it anyway, and patients are listening and trusting them because they are doctors.

He called blueberries “the natural purple pill” and cited research showing that 93,600 women who were studied over 18 years and who consumed three servings of blueberries per week throughout the study had a 34% reduced risk of a myocardial infarction. He then flashed a slide listing the dozens of known chemical compounds in blueberries, asked how we know which nutrient or combination of nutrients is responsible for the benefits, and answered his own question with, “I don’t think any of that really matters,” intimating that the bottom line is that blueberries offer health benefits.

But the underlying mechanism absolutely does matter. He assumed a causal relationship between at least one of the chemical compounds and reduced risk of heart attack, but the relationship between blueberry intake and heart attack risk could also be correlation. For example, the real factor at play might not be some minute compound, but rather money.

Relative to other fruits, blueberries are incredibly expensive. According to data I obtained from Peapod.com, blueberries cost $0.44-$0.64/oz. (depending on the size of the container purchased), which exceeds apples, grapes, melons, strawberries, and all other fruits I examined except for pomegranate seeds ($0.63/oz.) and raspberries ($0.56/oz.)

Could it be that the women in the study who could afford to eat blueberries three times a week also had other financial advantages that enabled them to take better care of themselves, such as the ability to absorb higher insurance costs for office visits and testing, health club memberships, time off from work or no work at all, massages, and psychotherapy?

On the flip side, you know who is probably not splurging on blueberries or able to engage so extensively in taking care of their health? Those working multiple jobs just to get by, those living paycheck to paycheck, those suffering from food scarcity, those relying upon the Thrifty Food Plan, and those who need to make $3.33 stretch enough to buy multiple items to feed their entire family instead of blowing it on a small container of “purple pills.”

“Whether measured by income, formal education, or job status, there is a socioeconomic gradient to health,” Bacon and Aphramor write in Body Respect. “And the greater the inequality in society, the steeper the gradient. The United States has the greatest inequality of all wealthy nations – and the greatest health disparities.”

This is what I was getting at last year when I wrote about nutrition and politics. We talk about the concept of intersectionality and how various layers of oppression aggregate. The further one’s identity lies from that of the pinnacle of privilege – a thin, white, heterosexual, educated, wealthy, American-born, Christian male – the more the individual is subject to oppression.

It might not just be that one’s economic situation makes regularly consuming blueberries unrealistic and limits their access to health care, but that in addition to fretting about cash flow, that person might also have to worry about suffering a hate crime or having their rights stripped away. Even if someone does not fall victim to such misfortune, remember that stress itself is associated with cardiovascular disease, so the very threat itself is problematic.

Assuming that the reduced risk of heart attack was due to a few weekly handfuls of berries without considering the greater context is ridiculous and exemplifies the problems inherent in viewing nutrition solely as a hard science. Anybody who has extensively studied the field should know to consider social, cultural, and other factors, which makes me wonder: When Dr. Q told us that 90% of cardiologists reported zero or minimal nutrition education and yet 95% of them felt it was their personal responsibility to discuss it, was he describing himself?

Dietetics Within the Health at Every Size (HAES) Framework

Posted on by

Following is an edited transcript of the presentation I gave at the Weight Stigma in Healthcare Settings conference at Massachusetts General Hospital (MGH) on October 18, 2018. The video of my actual presentation is available here.

I have been an MGH patient for a long time. Over the years, I have had three back surgeries here, and the staff has always been amazing. That includes my surgeon, the physical therapists, occupational therapists, nurses, and everybody who helped me during my hospitalizations. Because of the high level of care that I have received here, I feel particularly grateful to have the opportunity to talk with you today. Certainly, this 15-minute talk does not even out everything I have received over the years in terms of give and take, but it feels like a step in the right direction.

My first surgery was over 20 years ago when I was an undergrad at Tufts University, after a preseason physical for the tennis team ultimately revealed a tumor on my spine. After I recovered from the operation and graduated with a double major in mathematics and English, I worked across the river from here as an operations research analyst for the Department of Transportation.

The DOT was a fine place to work, but I realized the field of transportation was not for me. After a period of trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my career, I decided to go back to school to study nutrition at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. Once I completed my degree and my internship over at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center, I finally became a registered dietitian, and to be honest, I thought I was going to be amazing. The way I saw it, the basis of nutrition is biology, biology is essentially chemistry, chemistry boils down to physics, and physics is really just math. And who has a math degree? Me. Plus, with my experience in research analysis, and my background in athletics and having worked on the side as a personal trainer, I thought I had all the education and background I needed to be a great dietitian. Calories in and calories out, the Krebs cycle, grams, medical nutrition therapy, energy metabolism, what have you. If they had taught it to me, I had learned it and learned it well, so I thought I was going to be a star.

My initial patients thought I was great, too. They came to me primarily looking to lose weight or to change their body composition, and the vast majority of them did. They were thrilled with their results, some of them called me a “guru,” and they referred their friends.

Everything seemed great, but then I began to notice a pattern. In almost all cases, the initial weight loss plateaued and began to reverse. Maybe it took months, maybe it took years, but the results were almost always the same. My patients looked to me for the answers. After all, I was the one who helped them to lose the weight in the first place. But really, I had no answers. Based on my training, what I was doing should have been working, so what was the problem?

I remember how nervous my patients would be when they got on the scale or on the table for a body composition analysis, but what they did not know was that I was right there with them, as I experienced a really intense internal anxiety, praying that the numbers would be to their liking because if they were not, I was at a loss. Despite the high opinion of myself that I initially had, I began to realize the truth, which was that I kind of sucked at being a dietitian. I got into dietetics because I wanted to help people, and I realized that I was doing nothing of the sort. I felt like a fraud because, honestly, I was. I thought I had all the answers, my patients thought I had all the answers, but the truth was that I had very few of them.

Right around the time that I was experiencing this professional crisis of sorts, questioning everything that I was doing, my wife, who is also a dietitian, was attending a peer supervision group at MEDA, the Multi-Service Eating Disorders Association, so I decided to tag along. We would go around and share our most challenging cases with the group in order to learn from each other and get support that would enable us to better help our patients. When I mentioned that I was consistently seeing weight regain in my patients and I did not know what to do about it, the group leader told me that in approximately 95% of cases, people regain the weight they lose, and in about 60% of cases, people end up heavier than when they started.

My initial reaction was essentially, “Come on, there is no way that is true. If that were true, they would have taught us that in school.” So, I began asking around to other seasoned dietitians I respected, and to my surprise, they confirmed the same. Still, I was skeptical, so they pointed me towards research and articles to back up what they were saying.

For example, according to the New York Times, “After two days of testimony from leading obesity specialists, the panel said it had found no good evidence that any currently popular methods of ‘voluntary’ weight loss had much chance for long-term success. In fact, what evidence the panel could find suggested that 90 to 95 percent of dieters regain all or most of their hard-lost pounds within five years.”

Despite what they taught us in school about calories in and calories out, eat less and exercise more, and all of that, it turned out that nobody had demonstrated that they knew how to create long-term weight loss in more than a small fraction of the people who hope to achieve it. Clearly, I still had a lot to learn.

So, I began talking with more colleagues and doing the reading that they suggested, works like Beyond a Shadow of a Diet, Intuitive Eating, and Health at Every Size. My wife and I became members of ASDAH, the Association for Size Diversity and Health, and networked with colleagues all over the planet who had all come to realize that focusing on weight does not work and were instead utilizing a weight-neutral approach to care with greater success.

Knowing what my wife and I now knew, we wanted to adopt a weight-neutral approach to care, too, and maybe you are thinking to yourself that you have some interest in doing the same – maybe that is what brought you here today – but you probably realize just as we did that it is not that easy to shift gears.

Our professions demand that we further our education, hence continuing education requirements, but when new information makes us realize that we have not been helping people as we thought we were, that can be tough. One of the hardest parts for me was coming to terms with my mistakes and working through the guilt that I felt for having taken patients down a path that turned out to be less helpful than I had expected.

Beyond that, changing approaches risks losing our established patient pool, which risks our livelihoods. Our bills do not suddenly stop coming while we regroup and build up a new practice; the reality is that we all have to keep earning a living.

In a healthcare culture that is very weight focused, announcing that we are taking a weight-neutral approach not only risks losing patients, but also referral sources, our professional credibility, and maybe even our job.

For senior clinicians, including those in managerial roles, change is not easy for them either. Grants, book deals, and clinics can revolve around a given approach and professional identity built up over years and years, and changing direction can risk all of that.

My wife and I are privileged and lucky, in that circumstances and opportunity came together and we had the freedom to change, because certainly not everybody does.

Now that we have changed approaches, we find a weight-neutral approach to nutrition to be so much more helpful and beneficial than a weight-focused approach. Trying to foster long-term weight loss is generally a fruitless task, but by taking a Health at Every Size (HAES) approach, we can bypass that and go directly at whatever someone’s health concerns are.

As examples, if someone has high cholesterol, high blood pressure, or glycemic control issues, we can use medical nutrition therapy to treat these conditions directly, as opposed to attempting to use weight loss as an intermediary.

As another example, if someone is trying to improve athletic performance, we can focus directly on nutrition interventions to improve their performance, rather than hoping that weight loss will bring about increased strength, speed, endurance, or flexibility, when really it might just bring about a nutrient deficiency or an eating disorder.

A fatphobic model is particularly problematic when working with eating disorders, some of which are brought about by concerns about weight and body size in the first place. Trying to tell someone with anorexia that we will help them regain some weight – but not too much weight – reinforces weight stigma and actually colludes with the eating disorder voice, thereby hindering recovery. An approach that incorporates size acceptance, which HAES does, sets the stage for better outcomes.

Now, don’t get me wrong, being weight-neutral, as we are, is different than being anti-weight loss. If someone, through the course of behavior change, happens to lose weight as a side effect and they are happy about that, great, no problem. It’s just that the weight loss is not our goal, nor is it the focus of our work.

When we think of weight bias and the inherent issues with weight-centered care, we often think of the impact on people at the larger end of the spectrum, but the truth is that weight stigma in healthcare hurts thin people, too.

This quote is from a dietitian in Oregon. “I think there are a good number of people at the lower end of the weight spectrum who have undiagnosed sleep apnea. have a friend who was exhausted for years, did lots and lots of testing, and yet because she was thin, they never tested for sleep apnea. And sure enough, that’s what it was…five years later.”

An Australian colleague says, “I know of thin and active people, including a close friend and my physio who weren’t tested for cholesterol, diabetes, hypertension etc. because it was assumed they wouldn’t have an issue when they actually did have very high cholesterol, hypertension, or diabetes.”

According to a therapist practicing in California, “I have also had many clients tell me that because their bodies looked ‘healthy’ their providers would say, ‘Whatever you are doing, keep it up!’ even though they were throwing up, abusing laxatives, compulsively exercising, etc. To a one they talked about how utterly lonely they felt, and how it confirmed that the world did not care about what was really going on with them as long as they just kept up appearances.”

As a thin person myself, I have had doctors make incorrect assumptions about my eating habits because of my size. Whereas fat patients of mine tell me stories about how their doctors give them unsolicited nutrition advice, things like “lay off the bread basket” without even first inquiring about their bread consumption, doctors will bring up nutrition to me only to very quickly stop themselves, citing not my profession, but rather my frame, assuming that I must already be eating as they would have suggested because I am thin.

After my first back surgery, my neurologist cautioned me to “stay skinny,” telling me that if I ever thought about slacking off in terms of physical activity, to remember this conversation I was having with him. I certainly do remember that conversation, as it triggered an exercise addiction that took me over a decade to resolve. All those years, I went to him for follow-up, and he and other doctors missed blatant red flags that I had a problem because the attitude was “You’re thin, so whatever you are doing, keep it up.”

Even though I love my PCP, he is reluctant to order lab work because he sees a thin guy in front of him and tells me “I have zero concerns,” whereas I think of my family history, there are certain markers I want to be keeping tabs on, so every year we go through the same song and dance as we renegotiate what to test.

Professionally, I have had patients assume I know the secrets to getting and staying thin because I am thin myself. This is a huge issue in personal training, too, where our bodies are seen as advertisements for our services. Not only does this create a barrier, in which people who would make awesome dietitians and trainers are wary of entering the field for fear they will not be taken seriously since they do not look the part, but the presence of size-based bias in the room is a hurdle that can hinder care, conjure up false expectations, and mislead patients regarding expertise or lack thereof.

In truth, my size is mainly the product of genetics, privilege, and luck. Despite the overconfidence that I had when I finished nutrition school, the truth is that I still have a lot to learn, and I certainly have no secrets, except for maybe one, which I will share with you now: Some of my colleagues who are much bigger than me, the ones who have trouble getting patients, or referrals, or even jobs – because who wants to see the fat dietitian, obviously they do not practice what they preach, right? That’s the garbage that some people say? – Well, the truth is, the secret is, that these colleagues might be a lot bigger than me, but they are also way better clinicians than me even though I am thin.

“Just tell me what to eat”

Posted on by

We have no idea what we are doing. As new and first-time parents, Joanne and I are overwhelmed with questions that outnumber our answers. Last weekend, we went out to dinner, just the two of us, and we commiserated regarding our uncertainties, unsolved dilemmas, and seemingly unpredictable behavior and sleep patterns.

“Someone can surely help us with this,” I said, referring to professional help. An expert with advanced education and certifications must exist who has all of the answers, someone who can take control, simplify the picture, and teach us the right way to parent. I paused, realizing the significance of what I was about to say next, and then continued, “I just want someone to tell me what to eat.”

One of my favorite nutrition authors, Alan Levinovitz, is actually a professor of religion, but he has taken to writing about food and eating behavior because he recognizes how themes of spirituality, including fear and a longing for control, are incorporated into how many of us relate to food.

“It’s terrifying to live in a place where the causes of diseases like Alzheimer’s, autism, or ADHD, or the causes of weight gain, are mysterious,” Professor Levinovitz says. “So what we do is come up with certain causes for the things that we fear. If we’re trying to avoid things that we fear, why would we invent a world full of toxins that don’t really exist? Again, it’s about control. After all, if there are things that we’re scared of, then at least we know what to avoid. If there is a sacred diet, and if there are foods that are really taboo, yeah, it’s scary, but it’s also empowering, because we can readily identify culinary good and evil, and then we have a path that we can follow that’s salvific.”

And who can blame someone for wanting black and white food rules, a clear and crisp portion prescription, and a list of what to eat and foods to avoid? When we feel desperate and overwhelmed, we just want someone to come along who says they have the answer, the simple solution to our complex problems, and they will tell us what to do. Is that not exactly how I was feeling in the restaurant?

Similarly, who would possibly want to hear that no singular right answer exists, that what constitutes “right” is debatable, and that the situation is complex with several moving parts, some of which are not fully understood or within our power to manipulate? Who wants to be told that no set of rules or rigid structure is likely to produce long-term success, that even the most seasoned experts have gaps in their knowledge and experience? Don’t talk to me about guidelines and trial and error; my daughter is crying, and I need the answer now.

The good news, both for us and for the patients who come into my office, lean back in their chairs, cross their arms, and command, “Just tell me what to eat,” is that help and support are available, even if they are not the sharp and definitive solutions for which we pine. Joanne and I are privileged to have a pediatrician, experienced family members, and other infancy professionals who are all just a text away. While they do not have all of the answers either, we can collaborate and walk the road together.

Similarly, because of nutrition’s complexities, Joanne and I cannot just tell someone what to eat, but we are able to work with our patients to examine the factors that are influencing their eating and then formulate strategies for improvement. Other practitioners can similarly lend a hand. Therapists, for example, can be tremendously helpful for deeper issues that are getting played out through eating behaviors. Answers may be neither immediate or obvious, but together we can figure out a way to move forward.

Skeletons in the Literal Closet

Posted on by

We have put out a newsletter every month since we first began writing them in May 2013, but this month’s issue almost did not happen. Between fatherhood and the chaos of our practice’s move, I had little time to write this month. Taking advantage of any windows I did have, I began to write a feature only to realize towards the end that I had already written about more or less the same subject last year. Ugh.

Just when I was about to concede that this month’s newsletter was a lost cause, I opened our office closet in the midst of packing and spotted some of my proverbial skeletons, relics from when I practiced using a very different approach than I do now, and I realized I had found this month’s newsletter topic.

Because some of our readership is comprised of former patients who worked with me when Joanne and I first established our practice (and some readers go back even further to when I was working elsewhere), they have witnessed the evolution of my work firsthand, whereas other readers probably have no idea what I am talking about and figure I always worked the way I do now. How I wish that were the case. The truth – the embarrassing truth – is that I used to be very much part of the problem.

A small cardboard box on the top shelf contained a squishy, slimy, yellow rectangle: a model of a pound of body fat. One of my colleagues gave it to me back in 2010, I think it was, with the idea that seeing the “fat” would motivate patients to lose some of their own. The connotation was clearly negative, as reinforced by the written description that came packaged with the model, and I remember feeling uneasy about using it with my patients. Even though I was practicing from a weight-centered model of care at the time, my counseling instincts suggested that scare tactics and shame were unlikely to yield any positive results. Regrettably, I did show the model to a handful of people, and the experience reinforced that my intuition was on the right track. Back in the box it went, and there it stayed until recently taking up residence in the dumpster behind our office building.

The most glaring skeletons were scattered over the closet floor: scales. Over the years, we accumulated quite the collection, including two basic home models, a medical-grade wireless body composition analyzer, and an old-fashioned physician beam scale. My schooling and internship were largely weight focused, but to be fair and completely honest, some weight-neutral lessons did creep in, such as this article that came up in my nutrition assessment course, but they were easily drowned out by the tsunami of weight-focused messages that echoed my own preconceived notions about body size and shape.

Once I began practicing, I discovered that helping people lose weight and keep it off was not nearly as easy as most of my schooling suggested it would be. My patients nervously got on the scale at their follow-up visits, but they had no idea that inside I was just as anxious, for I felt that lack of results meant that I was a bad dietitian. To be candid, I was a bad dietitian, but my problem had nothing to do with the dearth of lasting weight loss among my patient population and everything to do with my approach that focused on such numbers in the first place. Five or six years ago, I began talking with more seasoned colleagues, such as Heidi Schauster and Ellen Glovsky, who opened my eyes to the reality that weight-focused approaches to care almost never work. Shortly thereafter, I stopped weighing my patients or testing their body composition. Pitching our scales into the dumpster last week was as satisfying as it was symbolic of how my approach to care changed over our time in Wellesley.

This October, I will be speaking at Massachusetts General Hospital about weight stigma in healthcare settings, and one of the specific topics the course directors have asked me to address is my transition from a weight-focused paradigm to a weight-neutral approach to nutrition counseling. Other dietitians, as well as nurses, physical therapists, and other healthcare practitioners, will be in the audience, and it is important for them to know that we all screw up sometimes. We can come to see our mistakes, own them, learn from them, and change course. Our patient care improves, which is the bottom line.

My learning continues. As Joanne and I unpack and get settled into our Needham office, I think about the artifacts from today that I will find hidden away in our file cabinets, desk drawers, and closets upon retirement decades from now. Hopefully, I will not look back on them with embarrassment similar to what I felt upon opening the Wellesley closet, but let’s be honest, there is a lot of professional education and growth still to come.

Soolman Nutrition is moving!

Posted on by

Most of you know by now that our practice is moving soon, but now we finally have the details to share with you.

Our last day practicing at our current location in Wellesley is Friday, August 24th. We will then close for a week while we move the practice three miles down the road to Needham, where we will reopen on Tuesday, September 4th.

In order to avoid confusion regarding where appointments are happening this week, we are purposely refraining from updating the address and telephone number on soolmannutrition.com until we have closed the Wellesley location. Please check back during the last week of August for these pieces of information.

The new office will have a familiar feel to it, as the office layout, size, and colors are strikingly similar to those of our Wellesley location, but you will also notice some improvements:

(1) The Needham location offers plenty of free on-street parking. No more fighting for a parking space, feeding the meter, and racing the parking enforcement officers to your car after your appointment.

(2) Situated in a quiet residential neighborhood, the Needham location offers greater privacy for those who prefer discretion while going to and from their appointments.

(3) Unlike the Wellesley office, our Needham location is fully handicap accessible, including a wheelchair lift and ADA-compliant restroom, so everybody has equal access to the care they deserve regardless of physical ability.

A less significant piece of news, but one still worth mentioning, is that we will be shortening our business name when we move the practice to Needham. Wellness is admittedly a somewhat vague term and, honestly, I do not even remember what I was getting at when I named the practice all those years ago. More than anything, its inclusion leaves people scratching their heads as to what we do. We are the Soolmans, and we help people with their nutrition, so Soolman Nutrition LLC is all we need.

Cause and Effect

Posted on by

The Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics releases a daily Nutrition and Dietetics SmartBrief, which contains summaries of and links to recently released health and nutrition articles. Earlier this month, a headline in a recent issue read, “Too much sitting increases risk of early death, study says.”

The problem is that no, that is not what the study says. In fact, the HealthDay article that the SmartBrief links to states, “The study couldn’t prove cause and effect . . .” and a couple of paragraphs later, the article continues, “It’s not clear why prolonged sitting is unhealthy, Patel [lead researcher, Dr. Alpa Patel] said. It’s possible that people who spend a lot of time on the couch also have other unhealthy behaviors, such as excess snacking, she suggested.”

Okay, let’s back up a moment. First, the author who wrote the SmartBrief’s headline misrepresented the study’s findings by implying causation, and second, Dr. Patel herself seemed to disregard the limitations of her own research by labeling sitting as “unhealthy” based on an association.

This was not just a SmartBrief problem. Other news outlets picked up the story and similarly misled consumers. For example, the headline on NBC News read, “Here’s more evidence sitting too much can kill you,” with the subheading, “Sitting more than six hour [sic] a day during your free time raises the risk of early death by 19 percent.” No, that is not what the research found at all, but such sensationalism probably draws more clicks than a mundane – but more accurate – headline.

We see similarly misleading language when it comes to reporting on the research that investigates the relationship between weight and health. Headlines summarizing these pieces oftentimes imply a causal relationship between increased body weight and morbidity. Remember, however, that when researchers set out to investigate the consequences of obesity, they are also studying the impacts of weight stigma, dieting, weight cycling, socioeconomic disparity, healthcare discrepancies, and everything else that tends to come packaged with the experience of having a bigger body in today’s world.

While increased adipose tissue in and of itself could be a causal factor for certain health conditions, similar to how having fair skin increases one’s skin cancer risk, establishing a causal relationship is extremely difficult given the confounding variables. To assume causation because of correlation is premature at best, and at worst, it could be completely wrong.

Next time you see a headline that implies causation, remember that said headline might be more sensational than factual, as the actual research behind it is probably more complex and nuanced than can be accurately distilled into a single line of text or a sound bite.

Thoughts on Body Image and Pregnancy

Posted on by

I want to preface this installment of pregnancy thoughts with this: the biggest lesson I have learned regarding pregnancy and body is that not only is every woman’s body different, but every pregnancy is different for each and every woman. What I am writing about in this piece is my own personal experiences, and it is not meant to be generalized to other women’s experiences. There is no wrong way to have a pregnancy and/or a pregnant body!

Thoughts on Body Image and Pregnancy

Some of the earliest advice I got from female friends and family members when they found out about our news was around making sure that I did not gain “too much weight” over the course of my pregnancy. Of course, I feel that these sentiments are rooted in fat phobia and diet culture, but many women also told me that they themselves ended up gaining “huge” amounts of weight during their pregnancies (much more than the medically recommended amount), which led to complications. While I am not a doctor and do not know the intricacies of these women’s pregnancies, part of me wonders if perhaps this “extra” weight gain might have resulted from the rebound bingeing I described in the previous newsletter feature, although it could just be how their bodies responded to pregnancy.

The other thing I have wondered in these situations is if these women give this advice to all pregnant ladies or just fat ones. Given that I have been living in a larger body for a number of years now, I am curious to know if these women are worried about potential medical complications for my pregnancy or, instead, how much fatter I will get. I have not asked these women questions about their intentions, but it definitely has crossed my mind.

Being a fat pregnant person is an interesting experience. For me, my baby belly did not become all that visible until relatively recently. This is partly due to the fact that I tend to dress in loose clothing (that is just my style), so my baggy sweaters and sweatshirts do camouflage my bump. But I also think that starting out as a fat woman, I was not going to have the stereotypical pregnant body that we all see on TV and in the movies. When I used to envision a pregnant woman, I would think of a slender woman who is “nothing but bump,” i.e., lean all over except for the “perfect” round tummy. I feel that we rarely see representations of fat pregnant women on TV or in movies, so that what the “typical” pregnant body looks like has been skewed for many of us. I was big before my pregnancy, and now I just look bigger in my belly area; if you did not know I was pregnant, you might not assume as much.

This “untypical” pregnant body has its pros and cons. On the one hand, I do not like to have a lot of attention focused on me, so not appearing obviously pregnant has helped me fly under the radar a lot, which I appreciate most of the time. One of my good tennis friends told me that she had a tough time during her pregnancies as she is a very private person, and her protruding baby belly made her quite conspicuous. She described how people on the street would approach her and touch her belly and give her a lot of attention that made her uncomfortable. I am sure she would have preferred to have had a bit more camouflage at the time!

But there are also times when I wish that it were more obvious that I am pregnant. In our society, pregnant women are (for the most part) treated lovingly and with respect. If a pregnant woman gets on the T, people will give up their seat for her. Her baby belly garners smiles and warm greetings. I am missing out on that as my baby bump is not prominent, and sometimes that makes me sad. When Jonah and I went on our “babymoon” vacation in March, no one could tell I was pregnant. They knew we were celebrating something, so they assumed it was our honeymoon, and as such, they kept on trying to give us champagne! I was able to laugh at it at the time, but there was also something a bit disappointing about not having my pregnancy celebrated by others.

Another thing that has been super interesting to notice is how friends and family have commented on my pregnant body. While all of the comments have been positive in nature, it also makes me feel uncomfortable when people comment on my body at all. On many occasions, these friends and family members have said, “Wow, I can’t even tell that you’re pregnant!” or “Good for you for not gaining too much weight!” A few weeks ago, the tennis pro at my club actually said, “You look great – you look like you’ve lost weight!” I know he was trying to be nice, but his comment implied that losing weight would be an improvement for me (as in my pre-pregnancy body was flawed). Never mind that pregnant women are indeed supposed to gain weight over the course of their pregnancies; so any weight loss would not be healthy during this time. These types of comments are fat phobic in nature and reinforce the idea that it is okay to comment on others’ bodies. People, please stop doing this! If you must, saying something like “You look great – how are you feeling?” is a much better sentiment to express rather than commenting on a woman’s specific body changes.

I feel like my pregnancy has given me a new appreciation for my body. I had thought that being “advanced maternal age” and fat would have not only made conceiving nearly impossible, but that my pregnancy would be rife with complications. Incredibly (knock on wood!), everything has been going well! I hesitate to write this, but honestly, being pregnant has been much easier than I thought it would be. Aside from some tooth/gum pain (hello, root canal!), hot flashes (sweating up a storm), and fatigue, I have had very few negative pregnancy symptoms. Of course, this could all change in the final month, but for now, I am amazed that my “old” and fat body is handling pregnancy so well. When I think about the fact that I am actually growing a tiny human right now, it seriously boggles my mind! It truly is incredible!

I am sure that my thoughts about my body will change once I deliver and continue to evolve after the birth and as the years go on. I hope to impart to my daughter the idea that our bodies are truly amazing and are capable of so many wonderful things and that appreciating what our bodies do for us on a daily basis is one of the cornerstones to a happy life.

Thoughts on Food and Pregnancy

Posted on by

As some of you may know, Jonah and I are expecting our first baby (a girl) in June. While we just recently started sharing this news with our patients, we both have been experiencing the myriad of emotions, including excitement, anxiety, and joy, about the major life change that is about to occur. But in addition to this, I have been acutely aware of both my relationship with food and my feelings around my changing body. I had often wondered how my body would react to pregnancy. Would I feel sick as many of my friends and family members did during their first trimesters? Would I be excited as my bump grew and feel a new sense of appreciation and joy for my body and what it is doing? How would my appetite change? So I thought that I would write a two-part newsletter feature on some of my observations around food and body image in relation to my own personal pregnancy experience. This month, I will focus on my observations around food and pregnancy.

Thoughts on Food and Pregnancy

I am sure I am not the only first-time pregnant person to have had preconceived ideas about how my relationship with food would be during pregnancy. We all have heard about the strange cravings (pickles and ice cream, anyone?), insatiable appetites, and odd aversions that pregnant women are supposed to have. Interestingly, almost none of these applied to me! While of course I had to change certain things in my diet, such as cutting down on the caffeine in my morning cup of coffee (I now do ½ caffeinated and ½ decaffeinated.) and avoiding raw fish (i.e., no sushi tuna rolls), I really did not have to change much at all. Most of all, I have noticed that more than anything, I am slightly more conscious about making sure I get enough vegetables into my day. I have always been a reliable veggie eater, but there are days when I only have one serving for whatever reason, so I have been making an effort to make sure I eat at least 2-3 servings per day. Sometimes that is in the form of cooked broccoli or raw snap peas or baby carrots, and sometimes it comes in a smoothie.

While I have noticed that I have days during my pregnancy when I am super hungry, it is not too much different from my appetite fluctuations as a nonpregnant person. As an intuitive eater pre-pregnancy, I knew that there were some days when I felt like a bottomless pit, and then there were some days when I just did not feel that hungry. This pattern has continued throughout my pregnancy. Just to see if what I felt was going on was accurate, I asked Jonah one day if he noticed that I had been eating much more than usual, and he said, “No, not really.” Don’t get me wrong; there have been some days when I have been ravenous, but honestly, it does not feel that much different than my normal (nonpregnant) hunger cues. One interesting observation that Jonah had was that I seemed to be having less dessert than usual. Let’s be clear – I am not consciously trying to eat less dessert! It just seems that these foods have become slightly less appealing to me than usual for whatever reason. Perhaps the developing baby needs more other stuff!

A number of my friends and family members have described how they felt that pregnancy gave them the green light to eat whatever they wanted in unlimited amounts and that they took full advantage of “eating for two.” One woman recounted how she would have an ice cream sundae every night of her pregnancy. My thought on this is that I bet that many of these women prior to pregnancy were eating in a restrained or diet-minded way (as many women in our culture do). As such, they would not allow themselves to eat certain forbidden foods prior to becoming pregnant, or if they did, they had to do so in very limited amounts. I would be willing to bet that much of their overeating during pregnancy was likely a direct reaction to the restriction they had exercised pre-pregnancy. As we have heard time and time again, one of the biggest contributors to binge eating is prior restriction.  Once the constraints are lifted, the body and mind go all in with the previously off-limit foods. Given that I haven’t eaten in a restricted manner in many years, there was no rebound bingeing for me. I have always given myself permission to eat whatever, whenever in any amount that feels good to me. And that has not changed!

I have not had any strange cravings or strong aversions to certain foods or odors. Once I began to be able to feel the baby moving (around week 19), it was interesting to notice that she would be much more active after I had eaten certain foods. To this day, when I eat foods that are more carbohydrate-based, the baby gets busier in my belly! She also seems to really enjoy breakfast, which I guess might be due to the fact that she has not “eaten” since the night before and therefore is hungry. So apparently, she is tuned in to her hunger cues!

I guess the bottom line to all of this is that my relationship with food has not changed markedly since I have become pregnant. I still eat intuitively, and I still eat a wide variety of foods. I feel very lucky to have been an intuitive eater prior to pregnancy because I feel I am much more relaxed around food than many pregnant women I have known. Of course, over the next two months, things might change; but for now, eating in an attuned manner is working for me.

Next month, I will discuss my thoughts around body changes in pregnancy. Stay tuned!

He Said, She Said: MEDA Conference Takeaways

Posted on by

He Said

Today’s society is talking more and more about the idea of privilege. We often hear about white privilege, male privilege, and straight privilege, but people less commonly discuss another form that directly impacts our nutrition work: thin privilege.

My thin privilege became obvious to me four years ago when I went to the doctor about back problems. In early 2016, I wrote a blog reflecting on how different my healthcare experience was than that of many of my larger patients who go to their doctors about similar woes. Not only did I receive evidence-based medicine instead of a directive to lose weight, but some of my doctors even made assumptions (incorrect assumptions, at that) about my diet based on my size. That is thin privilege.

While I was already aware of some aspects of my privilege, the most powerful talk that I attended at the Multi-Service Eating Disorders Association (MEDA) national conference helped me to understand that my thin privilege includes elements I had never before considered. Caitlin Martin-Wagar, an eating disorder clinician and doctoral student in counseling psychology, gave a presentation in which she listed several examples of thin privilege, some of which you may not have previously considered either:

  • Chairs and airplane seats fit thin bodies.
  • Thin bodies are represented in all forms of media.
  • Thin people are never the punchline in sitcoms because of their body size.
  • When thin people go to the doctor, their health concerns are generally taken more seriously.
  • Thin people can buy dolls of similar build for their children.
  • Thinness connotes good morals and positive characteristics.
  • Thin people have an easier time shopping for clothing.
  • Thin people do not have to represent all people of their size.
  • In comparison to larger individuals, thin people receive less unsolicited health/dietary advice or veiled concerns about their health.
  • Employers pay thin people more.
  • Thin people face less scrutiny while eating in public.
  • As a thin person myself, I can write this blog without receiving accusations of being self-serving.

In order to escape weight stigma and in hopes of enjoying the same privileges as thin individuals, some people embark on weight loss endeavors that are most likely to make them heavier in the long run and worsen their health. If we are serious about wanting to help people improve their health, then we have to change our society so that people of all sizes enjoy the same privileges.

Ms. Martin-Wagar offered us professionals some tips regarding how we can combat weight bias within healthcare, but she also shared some ideas for how all of us can challenge thin privilege:

  • Read and learn about the relationship – and lack of relationship – between weight and health (which you can do on our Weight Loss FAQ page).
  • Consider the barriers and challenges of living with a larger body size.
  • Learn from larger-bodied friends about their experiences.
  • Do not make comments about people’s body sizes, shapes, or weight.
  • Be aware of weight bias veiled as concern.
  • Call out injustices as you witness them.

We do not live in a zero-sum game in which treating larger people better means treating thinner people worse. Rather, we can and must work to establish a society in which thin privilege is no privilege at all, just the same rights and respect enjoyed equally by people of all sizes.

 

She Said

This year’s MEDA conference had a number of interesting and informative talks given by experts in the field of eating disorders (ED). Throughout the day, I was heartened to see that the ED treatment community is starting to embrace the principles of Health at Every Size® (HAES) and Size Acceptance. But despite this positive movement, unfortunately what stood out to me this year was that we still have a long way to go in the ED treatment community when it comes to helping those in larger bodies who are suffering from an ED.  

Ragen Chastain, the author of the blog “Dances With Fat” and renowned speaker and advocate for HAES and Size Acceptance, was the keynote speaker on the second day of the conference. Her talk centered on the idea that given the culture that we live in (i.e., one that is fatphobic, diet-minded, and generally not welcoming to people in larger bodies), those who are living in larger bodies and struggling with ED can find it nearly impossible to fully recover as everything in our society tells them that being thin is the most important thing. Ragen’s talk hit the nail on the head, and it was interesting to see many of my colleagues in the audience nodding their heads in agreement with her points. At the end, Ragen received a well-earned standing ovation, and it seemed like everyone in the room was on the same page.

Well, not everyone, it seems. During the Q&A session after her talk, Ragen received a question from one of the ED practitioners in the room. This woman started out by saying that she agreed with everything Ragen had just spoken about, but she had an anecdotal experience that made her question some of Ragen’s points. She went on to explain that her “morbidly obese” brother had struggled with his weight for years, and it had gotten to such a dire point that a number of years ago he had gastric bypass surgery. As a result of this surgery, she contended, her brother’s weight went down and all of his troubling health conditions cleared up almost instantly. She went on to say that while she knows that some gastric bypass patients regain the weight due to “cheating” on their prescribed diets, there are those who maintain their losses and “good health.”

This woman’s sentiments went over like a lead balloon, and there were audible gasps from the audience. Ever the consummate professional, Ragen adeptly navigated this uncomfortable situation. She explained that while there are always some outliers who do well with stomach amputation, there are many more who suffer from complications from the surgery, such as lifelong issues with malabsorption, deficiencies, future surgeries to correct structural problems resulting from the original surgery, and even death. In fact, Ragen went on to say that fatphobia is at the root of the weight loss surgery industry because the medical professionals who advocate for these surgeries view fat people as less valuable; that it is better to risk a fat person’s life by having them get the surgery than letting them stay fat. In other words, the weight loss surgery industry is essentially telling fat people that their lives are not as valuable as those of thin individuals and that it is better to be thin and sick or even dead rather than fat.

While I would hope that this woman was the only one at the conference who held positive beliefs around weight loss surgery, I am not foolish enough to think so. Yes, the ED treatment community is getting better about not pathologizing certain body sizes and understanding that EDs can occur in people of all body sizes. But the fact still remains that we all live in this toxic diet culture that constantly tells us that fat is undesirable and unhealthy, that the pursuit of weight loss by any means is admirable, and that thin bodies are superior to fat bodies.  When you have been marinating in this culture for your whole life, it can be hard to realize your own bias around fat people. My hope is that Ragen’s talk changed some minds that day at the MEDA conference and made people think more about how their own fatphobia contributes to diet culture and undermines recovery for patients with ED.