We’re All 3 Inches Shorter and 10 Pounds Heavier Than We Think

Just Ask My Doctor

I love my current doctor. She allows me to abstain from the in-office weighing by the nurse that I’ve been subjected to every year since, well, forever. It’s the same routine. The nurse asks me to hop on the scale. I tell her that I weigh myself every morning and this is my weight. She says they need to see it for themselves. I’m wearing jeans and a sweatshirt when she asks me this. Hell, no.

I repeatedly question the nurse on the validity of a weight “exam” when I am fully clothed and that if they were planning on using this to rate by BMI that I will happily strip naked this very second. She passes on my offer. I pass on getting weighed in the office, with all of my clothes on, and feeling like I just ate Thanksgiving the second before I walked in.

When I was younger, it was cool to weigh-in heavier. However, it was never cool to be shorter than I anticipated. But somehow, every year, no matter how in shape or out of shape I was, I was always 3 inches shorter and 10 pounds heavier than I thought.

My Inner Monologue During the Height Examination at the Doctor

First of all, why are you still measuring my height when I am 48? Who cares how tall I am? Do you think I am still growing? Late-onset acromegaly? If I am shrinking, surely your examination of my spine will reveal scoliosis.

But more importantly, what the heck is wrong with your measuring equipment? I have been 6'0" tall since I declared I was because I didn’t want my driver’s license to say 5'11" — naturally. So how can your height exam judge me as 5'9"?

Seriously though, what’s your problem? Why do you feel the need to play these games with my emotions every year? And my height?

“I am comfortable at the height where destiny has put me.”

— Pranab Mukherjee

The height where destiny has put me, by the way, is 6'0"!

Is it possible that we are all 3 inches shorter than we say we are? Even the doctors? This isn’t the NBA where a matter of an inch can make a big difference in our draft status. We are just humans. Why can’t I just be 6'0"?

You say I’m not, but everyone in my life has always said I am. They didn’t laugh like when the guy at the bar said he was 5'10" and was not a sliver over 5'5" — I think he was counting his fedora.

So, what’s your deal? Why don’t you know how to measure? Are you sure you aren’t subtracting the scale that we are always standing on, twice, from our real height? I don’t think you know how to do this at all. That expandable stick thing that you place on top of your head doesn’t seem right. And like Fletch, my height is taller because I have solid hair up top.

My Inner Monologue during the Weight Examination at the Doctor

Now you are really making me mad. If you are my doctor and you want to be accurate in my annual measurements, a representation of my physical health, then why do you take my weight while I am wearing my clothes?

And then you write it down as if it’s true. No mother f*cker, I am wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. That’s at least seven pounds, minimum. And P.S. — I just weighed myself this morning, naked like the cave people did. And I was eleven pounds lighter than you just told me.

But you are scribbling down on your little clipboard that I am WAY heavier than I really am. What’s wrong with your insides? Are you stable? Do you want to incite a riot inside your office?

Because I didn’t ask for the extra pounds. They aren’t even real. Yes, I nailed a foot-long sub on the way over, but still. Fine, chips too, But come on. How is your scale, that looks like it once weighed George Washington, accurate? That balancing thing never works. Have you heard of digital scales?

I am telling you right now if you use that pinchy thing to “test” my body fat I am going to straight-up do wrestling moves on you.

“It is the weight, not numbers of experiments that is to be regarded.”

— Isaac Newton

By the way, muscle weighs more than fat. So when you consult your weight manual that says everyone on Earth is obese, you can just promptly go fly a kite.

My Inner Monologue After I Leave the Doctor

Am I shorter and fatter than I think? Or are our doctors just psychopaths who all meet to discuss ways to alienate their patients? I know they don’t teach bedside manner in medical school, but it seems like an easy thing to add to the Hippocratic Oath — to always tell everyone they are taller and slimmer than they thought, not the other way around.

I’m not religious, but should I pray that my doctor’s unscientific “measurements” with 1920s equipment were as off-base as I think they were? Maybe it was that sub, but that can only be two pounds, not eleven. Is it possible that I brought a five-pound weight from my workout in the pocket of my sweatshirt and didn’t notice? That would explain the three-inch slouch as well.

I feel bad about myself now. My doctor told me I was healthy but seems to be at odds with the measurements on my driver’s license. It’s quite a conundrum. Maybe my scale at home is always wrong. Maybe I am 5'9". But if I am 5'9", how tall must Tom Cruise really be? I think I’ll just get some ice cream.

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