Like me, my hubby is seriously overweight. He's 5'7"-ish and probably weighs close to 280 lbs. It is all in his midsection (he's about 52" around right above his almost completely flat belly button) and it is the worst kind of fat - the visceral fat that surrounds the organs. It's all under the muscle. When he sits straight up in bed, you can see his abs contracting on top of all the fat. He's not always been this big. When he was in the military, he struggled a little but generally stayed under 200 lbs. When he retired eight years ago, he probably weighed 190 and wore a 36" waist.
He has some obesity-related health problems. He's got a horrible case of sleep apnea and wears one of those Snuffalupagus masks even when he naps. (Truthfully, he'd still have the sleep apnea if he were smaller, but it would be much less serious.) He's a diabetic and on Metformin, but refuses to acknowledge that he has diabetes - it's always "pre-diabetes" or "a slight case of diabetes." He takes comfort in the fact that his blood sugars and A1C levels are always on the lowest end of high.
He went to the doctor today for a case of pinkeye and the doctor went ahead and ran an A1C. It was 7.1. The doctor says he'd like to see it around 6.0, but the internet says that 7.0 is "normal" so hubby thinks that 7.1 is fine.
Hubby has asked for my help in the past, then completely ignored it. He asked me to put together a plan for him. I did - I spent a few hours on it. Did he follow it? Nope. After he came home from his appointment today - where the doctor really got onto him about getting some of the weight off - he headed for the pantry, pulled out a large bag of chips, and ate about 3/4 of it. I made pork chops, mashed potatoes, and broccoli for dinner. He ate reasonable portions. When I came home from church, he was eating what basically amounted to a second dinner: three microwaveable burritos covered in sour cream. All this - the potato chips and the two dinners - was eaten over the course of about four hours.
I want to kick his behind. He complains and whines about how fat he is, then does NOTHING about it. He's seen both his father and his sister DIE from complications directly related to diabetes, but he's doing NOTHING about it. And you know, I can truthfully say that I do not mind his weight from an aesthetic standpoint. We engage in plenty of nookie - with the lights on. What I *do* worry about is being a young widow. I'm 42. He's 45. His father died at 64. His sister died when she was 54. It angers me that he won't take care of himself, but I'm afraid to tell him how MUCH it angers me and scares me because, well, with the exception of one time very early in our marriage, my weight - whether it be 130 or 270 - has never been an issue for him and I'm afraid he'll think I'm attacking him. I know that he has do this for him, but it's affecting those who love him as well.
So. It is what it is, I suppose. I just needed to vent.