Calling Dr. Guzzi

On a related subject, I know talking about the obese is politically incorrect, but there’s obese and then there’s morbidly obese. The other morning I read two jaw-droppers. The first was about a condemned man suing to stop his execution because he’s too fat for the lethal drugs to work. And I don’t mean 300 pounds — the guy is packing 480. (How you get/stay that big on a prison diet escapes me.) The second sad report was on how companies are designing ever-larger medical equipment as America keeps gorging and gorging and ballooning and ballooning. The lede was about a man who needs back surgery and can’t have it until he gets an MRI, but he’s too ginormous to fit into the scanner. And I don’t mean 500 pounds  — the guy is packing 680. I do not envy the surgeon who will eventually have to slice through all that avoirdupois to get to his spine while no one sends him off for lessons in eating more sanely. The last line of the piece was the saddest: It would be best to prevent obesity, but instead the European manufacturers plan to keep capitalizing on the American market by manufacturing ever-larger machines. Wonder how things worked out for the dinosaurs . . .