Pretty Woman

Two posts in one day...when it rains it pours.

I had a patient today, a woman. I don't have many female patients. Anyway, this was a really beautiful woman. She was black, (or "African American" if you prefer, although I don't like to use that phrase. It seems like we're trying too hard.) She was in her mid-50s, without a single wrinkle or age spot. Her hair was long, curly, and gorgeous. Her fingernails were perfectly manicured, shell-pink, acrylic. She wore large jewelry, which suited her. Her outfit was lovely, a black skirt and jacket that tied in front over a leopard print shell. She had wine-colored lips, full and generous, and pretty dark, large eyes.

She was curvy in that appealing way of certain women. Her clothes were not tight, but they certainly acentuated every curve.

And the thing that really surprised me was that she was ashamed of her weight. She didn't want to get on the scale, (well, who does?) and she actually jumped off it before I could read it. Yes, she was overweight. Obese, if you want to get technical. But she was so very attractive just the way she was. In fact, I think she would have lost much of her appeal if she were thin.

I don't know why this made such an impression on me. Rarely do my patients object to the scale, (another thing which surprises me.) Most people make no comment about their own weight. My personal policy is never to comment either. If someone wants advice about weight loss, or if they ask me if they're overweight, then I will tell them. But I'm not going to lecture or cajole anybody about weight. People are generally well-aware of their status on the weight spectrum. They don't need me to tell them where they stand.

As a nurse, I could have/should have advised my patient to lose weight for health reasons. But if I were her beauty consultant I would have said, "Honey, don't change a thing."