Yesterday, there was a health check up camp in our office. All enthusiastic to avail of the benefits office provide for free, we all headed to the conference hall where it was being held. A team of dieticians from a star hospital in the city was present there. First they measured our height, then weight and noted them down against our names. We had an enlightening talk from the doctor who headed the team and got to know many ill-effects of late night eating and stuff like that.
The chief dietician who was present there was flooded with queries from my health-conscious colleagues and I waited for my turn. She calculated the body-mass index (BMI) and told each who had registered how far they can be gluttonous beings from now on.
I eagerly waited for my turn to get valuable advice from her, preparing myself to avoid the things she might ask me not to take, a bit scared after the facts presented by the doctor of all new sorts of cancer and other painful illnesses.
And my turn came. She calculated my BMI with my height (167 cm) and weight (51 kg) and told me as soon as I sat down in front of her: “No advice for you. Please go and eat whatever you want.” I was stunned.
She continued: “Your BMI is not there in our chart only. It should be minimum 19. You should have 65 kg corresponding to your height.”
I said: “But I would look so huge if I am 65 kg.”
She said, “Be at least 55 and try not to lose weight after that,” inviting a roar of laughter from my colleagues who got a chance to poke fun at me.
I was not disappointed, nor did I make any effort to put on weight in the 24 hours after that. I don’t live to eat, but eat to live. After all, only I had the privilege from among us to eat ‘whatever I want’ while many of them were asked to cut down on a number of yummies! :)