Seriously?

Let's recap shall we? My physician, Doctor Voldemort, instead of giving me drugs to help me lose weight (which he admitted he had access to), instead restricted me to 1500 calories a day. That, by the way, is the same number of calories a Cambodian prisoner gets. Fun fact. I was all prepared for it to fail and triumphantly go back to my doctor, call him a quack and demand my drugs. Fate, however had other plans. In less then 2 weeks I've lost 10 pounds. Which is a huge win for my fat ass, but a big loss for my indignation.

Now that we're all caught up, I can tell you that this week I participated in the sleep study. The doc recommended it because apparently sleep apnea can prevent you from losing weight. At least that's what he told me. Now that I've been through it, I think it was just him being evil again. For starters they hook you up to hundreds of wires, attached to all parts of your body. And since I'm a rather hairy man, they actually had to shave patches of my leg hair to get stuff to stick. Not all of my legs mind you, just patches. Patches just large enough so that people will look at me and think "That man is frigging retarded." Awesome. When they were done I looked like this:

Which of course made me think of this:

It's at this point that they tell me to sleep normally like I would at home. Do other people wrap themselves in bandages and attach wires to their face? Is this normal anywhere outside of Neverland Ranch? Is there a fetish out there I'm not aware of? Needless to say sleep was not on the table, so I can only imagine what their study will find.

But wait, it gets worse! (or at least more irritating) My wife is in the same "I need to lose weight" predicament as I am, and went to see the same doctor that I saw. Naturally I was chuckling to myself because I knew what he was going to say. No drugs for you, diet and exercise *insert evil laugh here*  and whammo blammo my wife would be in the same boat as me. Huzzah! Someone else to feel my 1500 calorie pain!

What happens? First he orders her to retake her blood test, then he assures her that if there's nothing medically wrong with her, he can prescribe her some medication to help her lose weight. Are you fucking serious? Are you just trying to get into my wife's pants or is your sole purpose in life to make me a miserable wretch?

I'm not sure why God has unzipped his pants and pissed on me, but I sure would appreciate an umbrella next time. Until then, I'll be here slowly transforming from fat and happy to thin and surly. You've been warned.