Magic Pills

Tom of The Stuttering Brain has posted some information about a new drug called Pagaclone which is going to be used to treat stuttering. Hm. Very interesting stuff. I remember the grand question in every stuttering therapy or support group of which I have been a member: "If you could take a magic pill that would stop your stuttering, would you do it?" And there was always someone who claimed to be so self-accepting that he would say oh no, stuttering is part of who I am, etc., etc. Stupid. I mean, the pill is magic. Who the hell says no to a magic pill?

However, Pagaclone is not magic, but a real drug manufactured by a pharmaceutical company. Therefore, Tom wisely has reservations about it, which he lists. Naturally, he is concerned with side effects. He says he would not want to gain weight in exchange for fluency.

And that, of course, got me thinking. About fat, and stuttering, and magic pills.

At first, I thought, "What?!?! A few pounds of extra weight is a small price to pay for fluency!" But then when I thought about it, I wondered if I would really say the same thing. Can I really afford to gain any more weight? I guess it would depend on how much extra weight we're talking about. Five pounds? Yeah, I'd do it. Thirty? Oh, boy. I think I've reached my limit, thanks. I can't afford new clothes, and since the health/fat relationship does exist, regardless of inconclusive evidence and exaggerated media reports about cause and effect (Read The Obesity Myth / The Diet Myth before you decide I'm off my rocker.), I'll keep stuttering along, thanks. As they always say, the devil you know is better than the devil you don't know.

But another related question is if I could give up one or the other, fat or stuttering, which would it be? I think I would say stuttering. I mean, it is a disorder, whereas the majority of fat-related problems are just prejudice. Sure, I'd love to be thin -- saying I wouldn't prefer a more socially acceptable body is just nuts. But I'd really love to be fluent -- there are lots of things I'd love to do that stuttering prevents me from doing (ASL interpreting in a courtroom or hospital, for instance -- I don't trust my speech in such important settings; some public speaking gigs; leaving voice mail messages that say more than, "Hi, this is -- this is -- is -- this is -- Mmmmm-- This -- is -- iiiiiiis -- iiiiiis -- th -- th -- this is --SHIT!").

At the same time, I can pass sometimes as fluent, lots of times even, if I'm in a fairly fluent period of my life as I am now. While those nasty blocks can be downright crippling, during a fluent period, stuttering is nothing more than an occasional nuisance. Fat, on the other hand, isn't something I can pretend I'm not when I go out. Everyone who sees me knows I'm fat. The only place I could "pass" as thin would be on the Internet . . . unless I were stupid enough to admit to being fat on my blog. Hey, wait a minute. Dammit. And I told you I stuttered, too, didn't I? What the hell is wrong with me? That's it. I'm starting a new blog right now in which I talk about nothing but my enormous boobs, my knack for creating really cool birthday party invitations, and my impeccable (Ha! Get it?) chicken imitation.

But I digress. I think what I was talking about was that I'm fat and I stutter, and somehow it mostly doesn't bother me all that much, even though I keep talking about it, like all the time. The stuttering bothers me less than the fat, really, because I accepted being a stutterer a very, very long time ago. Sure, it doesn't always make things easy, but I don't have any grand illusions of becoming a fluent person. It was much more recently, however, that I gave up the dream of being thin and decided I'd settle for as healthy as I can be instead.

If I were shown two little magic pills, one to cure fat, one to cure stuttering, and told I could choose one and only one, what would I say? I'd open my mouth wide, stick out my tongue, and say, "Ah ga ca!"

Then I'd close my mouth and repeat myself so it didn't sound like dentist-office talk. And I'd say, "Surprise me!"