Category: Maybelle

MayBelle Gets Labeled {On Being Called “Obese”}

~ Amy Lyles Wilson

IMG_1913MayBelle was proud of herself for figuring out how to sign up for her doctor’s web-based information system, so that she could schedule appointments online, request prescription refills, and access all sorts of other helpful materials, like maybe how to get rid of night sweats and hot flashes you’re still having some three years after being told you’ve “gone through” menopause. (Can you say “vaginal dryness,” anyone?) So imagine her disappointment when she logged on today to arrange a follow-up visit and found the following in her file: “Mildly obese.”

MayBelle quickly double-checked to make sure she hadn’t accessed another hapless patient’s account, like, you know, someone who is, well, fat. Still MayBelle.

Now MayBelle is keenly aware she needs to lose a few pounds but deliver me, she said, looking around the room to make sure no one else had seen those two life-changing words.

“Those doctor’s office scales always seem to weigh me heavy,” she said, pulling in her stomach and sitting up just a bit straighter.

For a minute or so, MayBelle thought about going to buy a pie at the farmer’s market, or eating some cookie dough she just might have stashed in the freezer.

“Mildly schmildly,” she thought. “I’ll show that doctor from obese and move right up to ‘moderately.’”

Apparently once you’ve been labeled “obese” you don’t place much import on qualifiers.

But MayBelle knows that’s not the proper, or healthy, reaction. So instead she logged off, took a deep breath, and texted her trainer.

In Which MayBelle Snaps a Photograph of Shawn Colvin and Gets in Trouble

~ Amy Lyles Wilson ~ 1 Comment

MayBelle is a rule follower from way back, and she tries not to cause trouble, especially in public. The other night she and Precious were at the Cheekwood Art Museum and Botanical Gardens in Nashville listening to Shawn Colvin in an outdoor concert. Sort of like Bonnaroo for middle-aged goobers. That would be enough, of course, but there was also a Chihuly exhibit, so it was a two-fer.

Lots of people were taking photographs, so MayBelle, determined to become a shutterbug, hopped up and snapped a few from the sidelines. Soon after, when MayBelle had returned to their picnic spot and resumed her seat next to Precious, a security guard leapt out at her–leapt she tells you!–and berated her for taking photos, saying she should have known better because that rule was listed on the website. MayBelle had not looked at any website, as Precious, the dear, had surprised her with the tickets in honor of their eighth wedding anniversary. The man continued to invade MayBelle’s space and speak harshly to her, all while other concertgoers were taking countless photographs all over the lawn. MayBelle is proud of herself, though, for she did not tear up or let the man intimidate her. Not too much anyway. She apologized and stood her ground.

But she’ll think twice about going to another outdoor concert at Cheekwood, which is too bad because her beloved John Hiatt is scheduled for September. Here are two photos MayBelle took before she was so unjustly harassed and made to feel like a criminal. Okay, that’s a tad melodramatic, MayBelle admits, but it was a sour ending to an otherwise lovely evening.

MayBelle Goes to an Acupuncturist

~ Amy Lyles Wilson

“Does it hurt?” asks MayBelle’s sister as they talk on the phone one afternoon in June. MayBelle is late for her appointment with the acupuncturist, and she should have known better than to call her sister with only ten minutes to spare. Their phone calls last an average of 45 minutes and you can set your digital watch by this. But MayBelle was desperate for a piece of information that only her sister could give her, so she gave it a shot and then ended up being late for her appointment.

“Sort of,” said MayBelle, trying to speak in a whisper as she entered the all-natural health center. She didn’t think cell phones would be appreciated there. “I’ll call you back.”

The truth is, the slight prick of the needles hurts much less than the leg pains MayBelle has been complaining about–don’t you feel sorry for her husband, Precious?!–for two years now. “Nothing wrong with your legs,” says the internist. “Nope,” echoes the orthopedist. So MayBelle has resorted to desperate measures, such as losing weight and giving up artificial sweeteners. Soon she shall have to say goodbye to the powered creamer she keeps in her purse since she can’t tolerate the lactose in the milk at Starbucks. What else will the long-suffering MayBelle have to give up next?

For now, she is feeling a bit better, and vowing to be on top of this “healthy living” approach before she turns 50 in two years. In fact, please remember her fondly  in the morning at 11 when she goes to the physical trainer who seems to forget that MayBelle is 48 and out of shape.