Yesterday, I tested positive for COVID-19. It’s been something I’ve feared for the past twenty months, especially working in a place and a profession where there are high volumes of people everyday. I am lucky to be twice vaccinated, and live in a state that takes vaccination really seriously among its residents.
Ever since the claim that higher-weight people are at higher risk for COVID-19 was established early on in the pandemic, I along with many other fat people in the United States have felt the burden of moral panic attached to this virus. The weird irony is that, presently, over 75% of America is considered “fat.” So wouldn’t that mean the risk applies to most of us?
It feels like just another way to blame us for our condition.
It’s a tale as old as time: any abuse, discrimination, outright prejudice, or hatred aimed at our bodies merely for existing is met with “If you don’t like it, then lose weight.” In chapter four of her book, Aubrey Gordon discusses the ways in which the relationship to anti-fat bullying plays out like abusive relationships: “it’s for your own good”; “but your HEALTH!”; “I wouldn’t treat you this way if (your fat body) didn’t make me do it.”
The association that has been made of fatness with COVID brings into play the fact that our misunderstanding of correlation and causation is still being taken advantage of by media and other industries–or that we are just so afraid of and disgusted by fatness, that we are willing to ignore that correlation between COVID and fat is not the same as causation.
As I continue to recover from my symptoms, the thoughts swirl: “if I weren’t fat, would I be sick? Is this my fault?” With the added messaging from the White House about the vaccinated vs. unvaccinated and the winter ahead, the moral panic of even getting COVID is compounded more heavily for fat Americans. Just like when we are mistreated by systems, people and society, we are expected to shoulder the blame of our own existence if in fact we do find ourselves positive with COVID-related illness. Our fat bodies are seen as a burden on the healthcare system, even without the added bonus of needing hospitalization or greater care for potential virus symptoms.
The bottom line? According to our culture, fat people aren’t supposed to exist – and if we do, we will be reminded at every turn that our existence is burdensome, grotesque, and unworthy of compassion and care. And we are doubly worthy of the abuse, blame and burden we feel if we dare to exist in fat bodies without apology.
All this to say, however, that when I got tested, I received some of the most affirming and compassionate care that I’ve ever encountered in a doctor’s office. The doctor focused on my positive test result and the outlook of my recovery, which she said was good given my numbers and my health. She mentioned that, “you, like me, are on the higher end of body mass index, which could qualify you for infusion therapy, but you are likely too healthy to get it at this point unless you downturn–which I’m not expecting will happen. I think you’ll make a good and quick recovery.”
Despite leaning into the BMI, a flawed measure of health, she 1) implicated herself as also being a fat person and 2) did not associate the BMI with my health status. My oxygen was well above healthy levels, my blood pressure within normal range. She focused on my health status and my behaviors as being healthy. Not once did she mention in any direct terms my BMI or my body being a risk on its own.
It’s unfortunate, though, that this kind of care in our country is not the norm. I am tired of a system that simultaneously tells fat people that their bodies, their existence, their very being is wrong, while expecting them to have the resources and motivation to aspire to ‘health.’ I’m tired of systems that gaslight and abuse us on a regular basis. I’m tired of the family that I love bullying me and calling it “just trying to help.” I’m tired of being expected to maintain my health while being told that that’s impossible to do in this body. I’m tired of people, industries and systems misinterpreting scientific findings for their own profit or convenience.
Fat people deserve competent and compassionate care, regardless of their body’s shape, size or even their health status. This virus cannot and must not be used as leverage to continue fear mongering campaigns against fatness.
Royally Incomplete 