Today I saved my grandpa from grandma's fatlogic!! Here are some basic infos necessary to understand the story. The story itself starts in the fourth paragraph, so impatient readers might skip, but before you leave any comment, READ THE DISCLAIMER in the third paragraph. Thank you! I'm currently single and living alone in the attic of my grandparents house. Yes, in short I'm a kind of basement dwelling loser, but this story is not so much about me, but on fat enablers and their delusions, in the person of my grandma. What you need to know is that don't be grandparents: Both are in their eighties, fat for at least the last 30 years (30-35 BMI range). My grandma is still able to to do most basic household chores, but surely not getting any younger, and I will gladly vacuum clean, clear cobwebs etc, whatever she needs done and feels to tired to to do. Important for this story is the fact that I always get sent to their army of doctors to pick up prescriptions and fill them in for them. My grandpa fell off the roof almost 30 years ago, he was 3 mm short of becoming a paraplegic. But still his obesity and old injuries have finally caught up to him, and the last couple of years he has been practically bound to a wheelchair, plus a victim to multiple falls where I or other relatives would need to lift him up again (90 kg – 200 lbs!). This has happened more often than usual the last week, giving us all a hard time, and understandably driving my grandma, who does most of the necessary nursing, bonkers. Two important notes: Feel free to hate upon my grandma, who would smilingly buy me tons of candy and junk food when I was a small kid and encourage me to eat (“Eat, eat, and become a big and strong man!”). She is also the delusional culprit of this story. I just want to add for reasons of fairness, that when she was a child, she suffered through a civil war, where the hole village had been starving. That had seriously fucked up her habits about eating, she's kind of person who N-E-V-E-R throw away food, not even moldy hard bread.  But P-L-E-A-S-E don't express any hatred towards my grandpa, even though he is fat. Not only for reasons of decency – hell, I'm worried sick too about his current situation, needing medical intervention so often, but luckily avoiding hospital so far – but also because I can't think of a person who has been so kind and helpful, simply “good” his whole life and has never expressed any hatred himself towards anybody, never that I saw him, never that I heard anyone tell about him. I'd rather cut off both my legs than feeling hate for him, he never treated me with food as a kid, but rather, back when he wasn't disabled, showed me how tools and machinery like a meat grinder were used, repaired, maintained etc., so real, useful affection, unlike that very unhealthy one my grandma had been showing me.  --Now I can finally tell the story of what happened today-- My grandma had asked me in the morning to pick up a prescription and fill it in, nothing unusual about that, daily routine for me. But what flabbergasted me was what she told that prescription was: Astronaut food!! With other words, a drinkable solution rich in nutrients and calories, which is supposed to nourish patients with wasting syndrome like many cancer patients for example. The reasoning behind it being that with it you can do your best to nourish a population which has legit, medical anorexia and need to make every sip, every bite they can keep down worth it. Thank god - and I'm an atheist btw. - my grandpa is far removed from such a situation, his problem is that he is getting weaker, or maybe simply only dizzier, likely through not drinking enough water.  So of fucking course I called out my grandma on it, because I knew calories are among the last things my grandpa needs in his current situation. He has been stable at his current weight the last decade, no fucking single sign of even a simple, healthy weight loss. And then a diarrhea of fat logic gushed from my grandma's mouth all over the flat: ”Your grandpa is so weak and he doesn't eat at all, he needs astronaut food so his legs will become strong enough to support him! I shit you not! She was really reasoning with the fatlogic of stupid wanna-be-hunks who think they'll become Hulks by simply eating and drinking all protein bars and shakes – workout, whats that? Oh, and she urged me to pick up that astronaut food, talking of it like it was some sort of miracle cure etc. and of course ”It's doctor's orders after all!” Yeah, “he hasn't eaten anything”, that is one of her stock phrases, the truth is, he has been holding a 30+ BMI now for more than five years during which “he never ate” according to grandma. He does eat well as you can imagine, it just doesn't look like much to grandma, because most stuff he eats is junk food like pound cake and snacks chips and fruit while watching TV. Plus my grandma has not even a concept of “portion size” so naturally he'll leave big amounts of food brought to him.  Instead of simply declining to pick up the recipe, I decided to go and try talk to the doctor, because I wanted to meet that kind of doctor who'd prescribe a solution meant for starving and wasting cancer patients to an obese senior who hasn't dropped a pound in years and would greatly profit from losing health-wise. So I went to the counter and as it was approaching noon, the receptionist told me to take a seat in the waiting room and wait a bit. Ten minutes later she invited me into her office and I was glad that she did at least care enough to grant me that discussion. So I explained to her what I have told you now, and she totally agreed on every topic I brought up. Asked why she had handed out the prescription in the first place, she explained that not being his regular doctor, she came in during an emergency (my grandpa had fallen once again and I had been away, but luckily he recovered and doesn't need hospitalization yet) and was bombarded with the same line of bull I have told you by my very upset granny. Not knowing my family she believed that bull and so gave in and basically gave that prescription just because my grandma was pestering her like a small child waiting in the check-out line. I thanked her very much for giving me that detailed explanation, and I calmly told my grandma why I did not fill in the prescription and why astronaut food would be a very bad idea. You could really see how her stupid instincts confusing love with overfeeding kept rebelling and made smoke come out of her ears, but in the end her brain capitulated to the idea that I was by far the more educated person that she needed to somehow “trust”. So, my very own and personal fat people story. I think my grandma and the way she thinks might be a good example for a subset of delusional fats and or enablers, that you may either encounter in real life, on TV like My 600 lb life or on the internet. This type of abuser has never learned to show affection any other way than treating the love object with convenient food. They are to deluded and uneducated to recognize that in truth their affection has for a long time only been hurting their respective objects. A stereotypical example might be the old lady from a random TV show on pets who has a pet Chihuahua weighing as much as a Mastiff and spoiled rotten on top of that.