Trusting Her Doctor's Orders - A Medical Weight Gain Story (Part 2 of 5)
Previous Part
One year later…
I fidgeted with my top as I waited for my doctor in the examination room. Something about it felt a bit off, and in the back of my head, I knew why but was too nervous to confront it. Something had been nagging at me for most of the past year. It had all started early into my first semester, those first three months of school, and then increasingly beyond that. Yet, despite the signs, I pushed those kinds of worries far away from me.
My freshman year had been a ton of fun. I made a lot of friends, got a job bartending, and even landed a new boyfriend who worked at that bar. My friends told me my boyfriend was far too old for me. On the contrary, I found it hot that he was almost 30, which used to be too much of a gap for me, but I didn't care anymore. Sure, my grades were nothing to write home about, but I was never an academic superstar. I just wanted the piece of paper that came at the end of this thing so I could get a decent job. Maybe my ambition wasn't sky-high, but I was just floating through life, trying to enjoy it.
Though my first year in this new college town was fun, I couldn't ignore that the fun I'd had was starting to have some consequences. Honestly, since the fall, I've been feeling a bit bloated. I wasn't sure what it was exactly, but maybe I'd been getting a bit too much takeout. I'd brought it up to my nurse the other three times I'd gone to receive my Depo birth control shots, but she didn't sound concerned. Perhaps I'd put on a teensy bit of weight, at most the freshman fifteen (if that). But even 15 pounds seemed excessive for me, someone who had always been in good shape.
Regardless of what was going on with me, the worst part of it all was that my shorts were digging into me way too tightly (They weren't buttoning right either), and I could feel my halter top clinging to me, too. I felt stupid for not wearing yoga pants or a hoodie. However, the August heat was too much, and I was very thankful my doctor still had his oscillating fan going, spreading the intoxicating peppermint room scent around his office. That smell always reminded me of him.
If I was being honest, I kinda wanted to look cute for Dr Prescott (aka Dr Dreamboat). Though tight, these shorts made my butt look good, and the top was the best one I had at showing off my cleavage. I hadn't seen him in a year, and I hoped I hadn't overdone it with my mascara. Yes, I had a boyfriend, but a girl can still have a crush on an older man with authority. Sue me.
The knock on the door immediately tensed me up, snapping me out of my daydreaming. He entered shortly after, somehow looking even better than I remembered. God, why do men age so well?
"Hi, Stephanie. It's good to see you again." He said with a warm smile that made me blush. I surveyed him and saw he was wearing a V-neck shirt, barely exposed between his doctor's coat. Guiltily, I spent a little too much time trying to count the chest hairs I could see.
"Hi… Dr Prescott." I said, trying to sound nonchalant but barely succeeding.
"We've been over this before, Stephanie. Call me Clark."
"Oh, right. Sorry." I apologized reservedly, wishing I wasn't so nervous around Clark. I'd really wanted to show him how much I'd matured over the past year, but I still felt like a silly little girl with a crush in his presence.
"It's okay. How've you been?" He asked with a smirk, taking a few steps towards me and crossing his arms. I noticed that his sleeves were rolled up enough to bare his forearms and got distracted.
"Good… um… school has been great," I said, barely able to articulate myself, given that my brain had gone kind of fuzzy. When hot older guys talked to me, this was pretty normal for me.
"That's good. Happy to hear." Dr Prescott chucked. "Ready to get started?"
"Ummm, sure…" I said, trying to snap myself out of my trace. From the look on his face, I could tell he wasn't taking me as seriously as I was taking him, which made me feel like I was at a natural disadvantage.
"Okay, let's start with your height and weight." Clark said, pointing over to the scale and stadiometer in the corner I remembered them being in last year.
Uneasily and clumsily getting up off the doctor's table I was seated on, my center of balance felt a little off as I tried to find my feet. I could feel the hair tie I'd used to fasten the front of my shorts stretching to its limit, which I'd had to resort to since the button on them had gone missing. Yet, gladly and nervously, I walked over to the corner of the room Clark had gestured. With my back to him, I made sure to add a tiny extra sway in my step, hoping he liked the way my butt looked in my shorts.
We went through the motions of checking my height, which remained unchanged, but when it came time to step on the scale, I felt very apprehensive. Deep down, I knew I wasn't the 120-pound girl who had stepped on it a year ago, and I couldn't run away from that anymore.
"Okay, step on." Dr Prescott said, picking up a clipboard in one hand, writing something down on it, and then watching me intently.
I did as instructed and heard the scale groan a bit louder than I remembered previously. I closed my eyes as I heard Clark fiddle with the sliders on the scale and felt my leg twitching nervously as I waited.
"Okay…" Clark said, as I heard the metallic clanking of the counterweights moving. "One hundred and sixty… one.." He said methodically as each slider landed in their spot.
My heart stopped, and I felt the breath leave my lungs. What? Did he say…??
"Did you say sixty?" I asked, opening my eyes, terrified yet still hopeful I'd misheard. Yet I saw the counterweights on the weight beam at the top of the physician's scale, realizing he wasn't joking.
"Yup, one sixty-one." Dr Prescott repeated again, nonchalantly, as if I wasn't freaking out in my head.
"And you're sure that's right?" I said, my voice shaking. Suddenly, I felt heavy. Heavy in a way I had never felt before and had been actively trying not to acknowledge all year. A word was creeping into my head that I'd never wanted to associate with myself, nor thought I'd ever associate with myself. Fat.
"I'm sure." He said, understanding that I wasn't taking the news well. "Would you like to try again to be sure?" Clark offered.
"Yes… please." I whispered, hopefully trying to reason that this was a mistake.
"Okay, step off." Clark commanded. To which I stepped backward off the scale, letting him reset the poise weight sliders.
"Okay, back on." Dr. Prescott ordered. I did as instructed and closed my eyes again as Dr. Prescott began to fiddle with the sliders.
"Ah, okay, my mistake," Clark conceded, almost making me breathe a sigh of relief. Only… he kept talking. "One hundred and sixty-two. Was off by a pound." Again, my heart sank, hearing that bigger number. This couldn't be right.
"Ohh…" I said, not knowing what to say. I could feel how tight my clothes were on my body, and I felt fat. Really fat. Fatter than I'd ever felt. I could feel my stomach pushing out, my ass uncomfortably packed in my shorts, my thigh's circulation getting cut off by them, and everything on me just felt awkward and soft.
"I'm guessing this is a surprise?" Clark said, looking at me with his eyebrow arched. Then he did something that made me feel very vulnerable: He looked down at my stomach.
"A bit, yeah." I conceded shyly, instinctively sucking and trying to self-consciously pull my top down. I was mortified when I felt a tiny bit of pudge exposed at the very bottom that I was able to cover with a sharp tug. Yet, even with my tummy covered, my top felt so unreasonably tight around my middle. Why had I worn this stupid top!? My stomach felt so soft and mushy. My clothes didn't fit my body anymore!
"Well, it's typical to put on some weight when adjusting to a new setting, Stephanie." Dr. Prescott said in a soothing tone that contrasted with the panic in my head. I wished he would've stopped there, though, given he laid on his professional concern. "That being said, forty-two pounds in a year is honestly a bit high."
"I'm sorry." I apologized for no reason other than shame in myself. "I… I don't know how this happened." I admitted kind of at a loss. Sure, maybe I'd partied and gotten lazier about exercising this past year, but I didn't think I'd gone that hard, had I? Most of all, I felt humiliated that Dr. Prescott was seeing me like this. I hated thinking about what he had to be thinking about me. Just some silly little girl who lost control and got fat. That wasn't hot.
Relax, Stephanie." Dr. Prescott said, holding up a hand calmingly, seeing that I was starting to spiral. It's mostly okay if you keep an eye on it. However, I'm inclined to tell you that your BMI is at 27 right now. That's about 11 pounds into the overweight range."
"Oh god… it is?" I half-moaned in disappointment. Overweight? Really? Had it gotten this bad?
"Yes, it's nothing too concerning, though." Dr Prescott shrugged. "I'd just advise you to be a bit more active and watch your snacking. Losing 11 pounds is easy enough, but take it slow. The only real thing to keep an eye on is the excess weight around your abdominal area. But it's not that bad at the moment, so don't worry."
"Oh.. okay." I said meekly, hating that he'd just said 'the excess weight around your abdominal area.' God, how embarrassing.
There was a short, awkward silence that I soon filled. "Umm…" There was something on my mind I felt like I needed to bring up. Gaining 42 pounds in a year just didn't seem like something I could be fully responsible for, and a concern I'd had was bubbling up.
"What's up?" Clark said, regarding me and putting down the clipboard, which he'd probably been noting my weight.
I remembered one of my new friends from school telling me about a girl she went to high school with. Though it had worried me when I first heard the story, I'd since pushed it from my thoughts until now, given how far-fetched and exaggerated it sounded.
"So…" I started with a nervous sigh. "I told one of my friends I was on the Depo birth control shots… and she told me about a girl that she went to school with that went on it… and… put on like 75 pounds."
According to my friend, it was true. Allegedly, this girl she knew had been a skinny little thing until she went on the Depo shots. Popular, rich, sought after by boys, and a total attention whore that wouldn't shut up about how tiny and skinny she was. Then, she went on the shot, and everything changed for her fast. Apparently, she was highly susceptible to the apparent weight gain side effects of the shot, and once she started putting on weight, she couldn't stop it from happening. In the span of three months, she rapidly gained over 75 pounds, completely ballooning going into her senior year fat. She lost her spot on the school dance team; her boyfriend dumped her, she was teased by all the girls she used to make fun of, and she had to buy all new clothes.
The whole situation sounded devastating, and while I had worried about myself after hearing the story, it now made sense why my friend had told me this. She must've seen the way my body was growing and couldn't hold her tongue. Was it possible that the same thing was happening to me?
Yet, as I looked at Dr Prescott, his face was serious. "Stephanie, is your friend who told you this dubious story a doctor?"
I was a bit taken aback by his tone. It was very firm, and the way he was speaking down to me made me a bit flustered. "No.. but.."
"People gain weight for various reasons." He declared. "You're going to have to trust me when I tell you your birth control shot is not the culprit here. Okay?"
"Okay…" I agreed immediately, putting the notion out of my head. He seemed so professional and sure, so I had to trust him.
"Do you mind if I ask you some lifestyle questions?" Clark said, pivoting to a gentler tone while guiding me back to the examination table.
"Sure." I softly said, uncomfortably walking over with my hands over the tummy area of my shirt and taking a seat.
"Do you drink?" He asked, leveling his clipboard again and taking a seat across from me in his rolly chair.
"Yes." I said, knowing that my drinking habits had gotten a bit worse over the year.
"Beer?" He questioned in an atonal voice.
"Yes." I answered, given that I worked at a bar and got discounts on the tap on off hours… I'd gotten a little too used to sampling the goods I sold.
"Okay, keep an eye on that. It's definitely contributing to the bloating around your midsection here." He said, very lightly putting his hand on my middle. I could feel the softness squish against his firm hand pushing in, which shocked me out of my comfort zone. Part of me wanted to scoot back or flinch away so he didn't have to feel my pudge, but I didn't dare.
"Oh… okay." I breathed out, unable to move as his hand lingered there for a few seconds. It was embarrassing to be touched there and have my fat pointed out, but still, it was odd that I liked having him feel me. I hated how much I still liked his touch despite it being on my tummy.
"And the birth control shots are still working for you, yes?" Clark said, removing his hand from my middle.
"Umm…" I wondered to myself If I should switch back to my old birth control method, just out of caution.
Before I could convey that, Dr Prescott cut in. "They're still working for you, right?" He said a bit forcefully.
"Yes." I found myself saying in agreement, not wanting to cause a fuss.
"Good." He said, nodding before continuing his questions. "Sexually active?"
"Yes." I admitted. Though not quite as much as when my boyfriend and I first started seeing each other, nor that first few months of school when I was kind of a slut.
"Boyfriend, girlfriend?" Clark asked.
"Yes, a boyfriend." I confirmed, feeling a pit now forming in my stomach. Oh god, what did my boyfriend think of me now? Was this extra weight why he'd been a little distant towards me lately? I was starting to second-guess everything, worry, and stress. Did my boyfriend think I was getting too fat?
"Okay, make sure he wears a condom. I'll write you a prescription for another year." Clark commented.
"Okay." I said, knowing full well that my boyfriend hated wearing condoms. Admittedly, I didn't like condoms much either, given I had a pretty shameful breeding fetish that I kept a secret from everyone.
"Is there anything new bothering your health lately, Stephanie?" Clark asked earnestly, giving me an opening to talk about something that had come up over the summer.
"So… all summer, I've been dealing with allergies all of a sudden, and it was brutal for me over the summer. Like, my eyes just get really red when I have to go outside, and the pollen really kills me." I complained. It had gotten terrible to the point where I was opting to stay indoors some days during the worst pollen-filled days.
"Okay, hmmm… let's see," Clark seemed to ponder my conundrum for a moment before having what appeared to be a spark of inspiration. "I'd recommend Prednisone. It's an oral corticosteroid that can help with your allergies. I know we've just passed grass pollen allergy season, but I'd recommend still taking it now so your body gets used to having its system come next allergy season.
"Are there any side effects?" I asked, not understanding some of Dr. Prescott's words but still a bit cautious. Even though Dr. Prescott had assured me that my Depo-Provera birth control shots couldn't be the cause of my weight gain, I felt like I should be extra careful about anything else.
"Nothing you should be too concerned about," Dr. Prescott said coolly, putting me at ease. It was so easy to trust him with those kind eyes, so I didn't press further.
We carried on the rest of the visit normally, going through the standard check. I was incredibly thankful I didn't have to take off my shirt this time, given the state of my body, but I did have to pull down my shorts a bit to get my Depo birth control shot on my butt. It was a little awkward, and I could feel my butt jiggle a bit as he swabbed at the area he was going to inject in before doing so.
After it was all over, I walked out of Dr Prescott's exam room, feeling a rumbling in my stomach. I knew I should probably start a diet, but I could just as easily start one tomorrow. After all, I was sure once I buckled down, I'd get my weight issue under control. For some reason, I had an intense craving for pancakes and hash browns and knew a diner around the corner.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note: Shout out to an extra special feedee who gave me some ideas for this part <3 she's really cute, i like her, and she deserves credit (she knows who she is)