Today, at the NBC building in New York City, Susanne Eman will make another appearance on The Dr Oz Show to follow-up on the discussion we had with him this past September. Obviously, I won’t be there. The invitation to participate had come too late, but that’s not what today’s entry is about.
This entry is about the rhetoric that he’ll surely be throwing at her; the same song and dance he gave her last time. He’ll lose his composure over a difference of opinion, insist that he knows better because he’s a doctor, and then threaten her with diabetes, high blood pressure, cancer, pulmonary embolism, and maybe even brain damage. Maybe he’ll throw his question cards up in the air again, too.
I said “pulmonary embolism”, right? Yes, I thought so. When he’s done assaulting Susanne–a woman who won’t listen to him–I’d like for him to pay a visit to Long Island to pay respects to a friend of mine who did, and died of a pulmonary embolism nonetheless.
I had the pleasure of working with this friend for nearly two years. She was nearing her 4os, single, and any insecurities that she may have harbored about her social life or approximate weight of 230 lbs had made her rough around the edges. We clashed at first…in fact, I got into an argument with her about the OJ Simpson verdict on my first day, and two months of tension followed.
All of that changed during a casual conversation on a slow Saturday afternoon at the office. She had interviewed one male co-worker after another, asking them about the kinds of girls they liked. I, who worked quietly at my desk, was the only guy she hadn’t asked yet, and her curiosity insisted that I be included in the conversation.
“So, Bruce…may I ask what kind of girls you like?”
“The bigger the better”, I told her with authority.
I had my back to her when I answered, and I wish I could have seen if the look on her face was as animated as the response I got from her. She had never met a guy who prefered fat women over thin ones, and never would have guessed that such a guy would be so open and confident about it. She wasn’t disgusted, though. In fact, the next question was “so if I gained more weight, are you gonna invite me to those crazy night clubs you go to?”
Christina and I were friends ever since. I’ll never know if she understood my orientation, but I do know that she most certainly respected it. Through picking my brain, she learned enough about FAs to peg none other than my friend Michael, who replaced me after I was fired for speaking out against a horrible boss during a staff meeting. Mike, from what I’m told, was caught checking out the chunky blond girl in the funding department, and that’s when Christina stepped in and said “you gotta meet Bruce”.
I last saw Christina in 2008–I ran into her at a Taco Bell (forgive me…Qdoba had closed and there was no Moe’s around). She looked like she had lost about 45 lbs, and fashioned a new wardrobe and hairstyle. She looked great, and happy, and it’s comforting to know that my last encounter with her was nothing at all like the first; that I last saw her smiling, and energetic.
Christina was admitted to the hospital on Friday and died of a pulmonary embolism overnight. Just like how I can’t be around to attend the Oz taping, I also can’t be there to pay my last respects to someone who believed what he’s been telling America for the past two years; that obesity is death. Christina was never obese, but slimming down didn’t do her any favors aside from giving her more confidence in her appearance. It could have been stress that contributed to her death. Maybe it was her smoking habits. Maybe it was a combination of many different things. The point is that Oz could have taken a look at Christina and insisted that she was healthier than “ticking time bomb” Susanne Eman, only because one woman was significantly larger than the other.
Looks can be deceiving, and Oz has his own ‘man behind the curtain’ that he doesn’t want you to see. Several men, actually…all of whom are selling diet products that are designed to fail so you can keep spending your money.
