Mr. Diarrhea-mouth

The wedding is inching near the two month mark and so Billy and I were off to New Hampshire for a three-day weekend to finalize many of the details. It was wonderful to finally be back eating my favorite dishes at some of New Hampshire's best restaurants (not to mention finally being able to taste some of the wines for the wedding without keeling over in pain!). I could not have asked for better weather, sweeter company, or a more beautiful setting to enjoy my first getaway since my second surgery, until around 3pm on Saturday…

Our 3pm meeting with, well shall we call him Mr. Diarrhea-mouth?, began swimmingly. I was excited to hear of his pro-gay marriage and liberal sentiments and felt an immediate kinship with this man that will be an important part of our marriage celebrations. Around twenty minutes into the conversation, he asked how we would like to be introduced as an officially wedded couple. I joked that while we would like to use our official given names of Katherine and William, we have been working hard to avoid any references to the Royal Couple. He laughed and amidst a slap to his thigh he replied, "Oh I hadn't even thought of that! You two are every bit as good-looking as the Royal Couple, except, well, I guess you [he pointed to my way], you're disgusting. You're much too thin." He then gestured towards Billy, "You look great though. I wish I looked like you when I was your age." Had he really just said that? After a long and heated inner debate whereby I questioned my hearing abilities and even my own sanity, I decided to write it off and assumed that I must have misheard him.

On our way out I turned to Billy and started to say, "Hey, did I hear.." Billy began to laugh; "Yeah, you heard him right. I can't believe he said that to you!" While it was nice in a way to hear that not all men find underweight women to be attractive, I couldn't help but feel immensely hurt by the comment. Did he have to use the word "disgusting?" Am I really THAT thin? When Billy asked what I would like for dinner that night, I responded, "pizza and chocolate cake." And so, that night, I gorged myself in an attempt to de-disgustify myself, all to no avail. I came home two pounds lighter.

Ultimately, I concluded that while this one man may find the sight of me to be a horror, I can't let that get to me. I survived two major surgeries and nine years of a brutal disease. My thin, scarred frame tells my story and it's a tale that I will never be ashamed to tell.