Zerona Details

July 30, 2013


Via the Internet I located several Zerona providers here in the San Francisco Bay Area.  When I called, the cheerful service representative informed me that if I signed up and paid for twelve Zerona services that specific month, I would also additionally receive facial exfoliating treatments, and lower leg hair removal included in the price. 

Good, I thought.  A sale.

I scheduled an appointment at a facility in the Park Shadelands area of Walnut Creek.  Armed with a list of seventy-two different questions (including are you absolutely sure this won’t hurt), I headed off to my Zerona consultation appointment.  Miss Jocelyn escorted me to a conference room where we discussed what Zerona could do for me, what it was about, etc.  Not a weight loss program, she said several times, but a mass fat loss plan.  Good, I thought.  Anything so there will be less of me.  Zerona sessions are done three days a week for a month.  I’m retired so getting there posed no problem.


Jocelyn delved into what I had to do to obtain optimum results.  Lots of water every day, she said.  No problem.  I drink lots of water anyway.  She said it is probably more than what you drink. 


Uh, oh. 


Said she, divide your weight by two and that is how many ounces of water to drink each day.  At least.  My real weight, I asked, or the weight on my drivers license?  Jocelyn smiled silently.  OK, I can do that, even though I’ll have to drink enough water to float a small battleship.


After each Zerona treatment, she continued, I would need to get no less than thirty minutes of aerobic exercise.  No problem.  I should be going to the gym more often anyway.  And, you will have to give up coffee.  Fine.  I don’t drink coffee anyway.  And, tea.  Uh, oh.  No tea?  No matter how weak I brew it?  No tea.  All right.  I only drink two cups a day.  I can give that up for a month.  And, she continued, you will have to give up all alcoholic beverages. 


What!  I knew there had to be a hitch in this it—doesn’t—hurt, non—invasive fat loss program.  Are you kidding, I asked?  No, not kidding at all.  Alcohol slows the metabolism and makes fat—loss difficult to impossible.


Thank you very much, I said.  I’ll think about it. 


When I got home, I poured myself a vodka, slouched outdoors, and flopped down at the picnic table.  I should have known this Zerona stuff was too good to be true.  Could I really give up alcohol for an entire whole month? No evening cocktail on our deck with Darlin’ Bruce?  No wine with dinner?  Crud.


 That will Susan do?  Will she try Zerona?  Can she give up booze for an entire month to achieve her goal?  Tune in next week to find out.




Finding Zerona

July 18, 2013

Have to get some of this fat off, still.  I’ve peddled so much on the stationary bikes at the gym, I have clocked in enough miles for a trip to Bangkok and back.  I’m getting good exercise, but I guess my fat has adhered itself to my skin — for life.  I initiated some liposuction research, but decided that was not for me.  First of all, the procedure description sounds grotesque.  Second, I’d have to be under general anesthetic for which there are risks, particularly to the heart.  Not that my health indicates such a problem.  The only heart problems I’ve ever had was a broken one.  Besides, I figure there will be some time in my future when I will absolutely have to be under general anesthetic for some life saving reason.  No need to use up one of my options with an elective surgery.  I began looking elsewhere.

 One day while I began folding my eleventh metric ton of laundry, I flicked on the television and there was Rachael Ray.  My ears perked up when I heard her mention a new fat loss program called Zerona.  The cute doctor in the white lab coat described the process as cool laser, not the stinging rubber—band—snap kind.  The laser breaks up fat globules into the body cavity, he explained, and the patient sloughs it off.  To demonstrate, an audience member volunteered to be the guinea pig.  Out rolled a multiple Hydra snake headed machine.  The victim lay down under the writhing Hydra heads while bright red lights whirled around over her abdomen. (Audience members were handed out special sunglasses so no one would inadvertently get cornea burns.)  When Rachael asked how she felt, the lady said she could not feel anything at all.  Nothing.  The demonstrating doctor said that is the way it works — no pain.

 Leaving my unfolded laundry behind, I raced to my office and initiated a Google search.  Aha.  Zerona is even FDA approved.  And, painless.  Two good things.  But, as I know, if something sounds too good to be true, it probably is.  What was the hitch?  Was there one?

 (Stay tuned for Susan’s search for fat loss continues.)

Writing is Like an Egg

July 15, 2013

What?  Yeah, it’s a strange comparison, but bear with me.  Without the outer shell of an egg, you’d have an ooey, gooey mess.  So the shell is the foundation.  Letters make the words, string together the words and you get sentences and lastly you need grammar, and sentence structure to get your point across.  These make all the necessary components to create the poem, the essay or the story.   Of course, there are exceptions.   Cormac McCarthy – the author of The Road – he doesn’t use periods.  He breaks the rules and he’s a darn good writer. So there is a way to crack the shell, where the egg will stay intact, as long as you don’t rupture the membrane.  But cracking an egg takes skill.  You have to have just the right touch.  And in order to experiment, you must first know what makes the shell sturdy and what lies inside to know just how much tapping you can do without breaking the whole thing into that ooey, gooey mess.

If we were to do a cross section of our egg, we would find under our shell, the egg white.  The egg white represents our characters and voice.  We need a narrator at the very least and sometimes dozens of characters. They can be people or animals or even objects.  You can have a robot tell your story, right?  Now, the great thing about egg whites is how versatile they are.  The start out being opaque, but throw them in a frying pan and what happens?  They thicken.  They change color.   Even if you don’t cook them you can all kinds of seasonings.  You can even whisk them and fill them full of air. 

So now you’ve got the shell – a foundation of words and sentences, you’ve got your egg white which represents the vehicle for the story, and then at the very core of the egg is the yolk.  The yolk is the plot and the story arc.  At the core, the plot is the reason for writing.   Something happens and the person or someone the person knows is changed by the event.   So now you see, writing really is like an egg.   The only question is do you want to scramble, boil or poach your story.

Searching for Fat Reduction

July 9, 2013

I’m fat.  Well, I’m not Jabba the Hutt, blobby fat.  There is so much more of me than there used to be.  In fact, when I look at my high school pictures, I’m not entirely sure the photos are of me.

I’ve been on every diet there is.  Yep, I loose a few pounds with diets and exercise programs.  Apparently I don’t loose them well enough.  The pounds hunt me down and find me—again and again.  The most maddening thing is when I mention the word “diet” at home, my darlin’ Bruce automatically drops five pounds.

What makes women, mature women, fat, no matter how hard they try to take off weight?  Is there some yet unidentified enzyme, protein, or hormone that older women produce which demands and requires us to store fat?  Is fat production part of a basic survival technique thrust upon us by a quirk of nature?

What if my grown children, long since tired of my whinings about weight, abduct me and drag my fat self up to Alaska?  There my kids would deposit me onto an ice—floe and shove me out into the ocean.  I could live for a long time, they reason, on my abundant adipose tissue.  In the event I encounter a Japanese ship in the middle of the Pacific, I could wave a banner saying, “I know how to cook blubber.”  With such a find, the whaling vessel would have no choice but to take me aboard.  The sailors should be tired of whale sushi anyway, and ready for some hot meals.  Eating blubber, for me, would have its drawbacks.  After all, it is fat.

Isn’t there some way for women to loose wait and keep it off?  I wonder.

[Stay tuned for Susan’s continued quest to abolish her unwanted fat.]