Death by Fat

I’ve blabbed enough about my own endocrine problems, including diabetes. Right now I want to talk about someone who, according to popular opinion, should have exploded 40 years ago.
There is a gentleman at the retirement community where I work. He is a portly fellow with diabetes. He is, other than his diabetes and a bit of arthritis, healthy, happy, and active. His cognitive abilities are 100%. He takes good care of himself. He is compliant with his diabetes treatment regimen. He engages in a moderate level of exercise, mostly walking. He is socially involved.
According to popular “science,” I must be hallucinating. Healthy, happy, fat old people do not exist.
Another healthy, fat old person who doesn’t exist is the grandfather of Nikki Sixx, the bassist for Motley Crue. I don’t know how Nikki managed to stage that picture–he’s pretty slick! But somehow he managed to make it look like he was standing there with his ninety-something year old, fat grandfather. It was a trick of the light, I suppose.

Dances With Fat

Nothing to prove Some people seem to truly delight in telling me that I’m going to die sooner because I’m fat.  The studies that I’ve seen are deplorable science and maybe I’ll break that down here eventually but that’s not what I want to talk about today. Today I want to talk about what happens if I’m wrong and they are right.

In science, we always have to remember the possibility that we might be wrong. (So if someone isn’t willing to admit that they could be wrong, they aren’t someone I’m interested in talking to about science.) There were times in our history when the best of science “proved” that the Earth was flat, that giving pregnant women thalidomide was a good idea, and that small objects fall more slowly than large objects, and that heroin is a non-addictive substitute for morphine.  Oops.

Speaking of large objects….  I’ve examined a lot of…

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