My 600-lb Life Season 7, Episode 10: Trans fat is unhealthy

Destinee is definitely one of the most confused, delusional, lazy people who has ever waddled into the My 600-lb Life world.

You thought you loathed Maja on My 600-lb Life? Well, the sob story from Destinee is a trifecta. Mommy dearest got pregnant at 16-years old, and had a litter of children. Destinee says part of the family was racist. Later placed in foster care, food started to become an escape since there were multiple kids in the house. Then shoplifting (cake) led to Destinee’s mother being arrested.

Then Destinee’s father shunned the family, which led to rejection. Emerging from the closet followed. Wigs and makeup after that. Then a declaration of being gay/transgender. THEN Destinee’s brother died, which led to mental institutionalization. Basically, the only thing that doesn’t confuse Destinee is the buffet.

Home Life

From bed to shower, Destinee slowly loses the ability to be independent. The camera focuses entirely too long on the front-butt covering the mystery meat underneath. The shower is barely able to contain the girth, and dripping wet in a towel that inadequately covers everything, Destinee moves to the bed.

The Average Meal

It’s a good thing Destinee’s morbidly obese sister is in town to provide food. A breakfast bar full of bacon fills a bowl that has scrambled eggs several inches deep. The second meal of the day, whatever it is, involves macaroni and cheese. The initial step in the recipe is to scoop butter out of the container with an oar.

Getting to Dr. Now

Despite living in Louisiana and only having a four-hour drive, Destinee says it’s going to be brutal. Fifteen minutes are the normal max. Along for the drive is Destinee’s mother Rachel Dolezal, and one of the peanut M&Ms dressed in spandex.

Dr. Now’s initial evaluation

Initial weigh in: 668.5, and Destinee is content with being in the 600s. Dr. Now is a straight savage, saying Destinee doesn’t really want to lose weight. Excuse after excuse after excuse comes out, and Dr. Now suggests none of it has anything to do with the mechanics of the bicep muscle lifting a fork to the mouth.

The familiar recipe emerges. Dr. Now calls out the enablers and recommends the high protein, no carb, 1200 calorie diet. Eighty pounds in the next two months. And if anyone ever needed psychotherapy more than this train-wreck, Dr. Now has yet to see it. He recommends it ASAFP.

The follow-up appointments & therapy

Month 2: The diet is being followed. Allegedly. Exercise is occurring, thanks to daily walks with yet another obese friend. Destinee doesn’t want to lose fat in the breasts (eye roll).

Month 3: Weigh in: 644.4. Not even remotely close. Dr. Now lectures them about stress and being an adult. Too little progress shown; too much skin in a sheer miniskirt that looks like one of those magician curtains used to hide assistants. Eighty pounds in two months is the ultimatum. Again. BTW – No psychotherapy up to this point.

Month 4: The best way to make Dr. Now mad? Drive to Houston solo and live down there by yourself. Side note: Destinee can’t afford any clothes that remotely fit, but has driven an extended cab truck and a sports car in the past two months. Got them nails did, too.

The apartment is unacceptable, apparently because of scuffs on the walls and some dirty cabinets. Surprising since the carpets in Destiney’s old mobile home definitely had stains, and appeared to also have animal feces sprinkled about.

Month 5: Last month was a waste with all the stress of the unacceptable apartment. Apparently, stress is lowering not only Destinee’s voice, but also the heaps of salad dressing onto the lettuce. A one month reprieve is requested before the next doctor visit.

Month 6: Weigh in: 627.7. That’s 17-lbs in three months. Destinee hopes the focus will be on stomach pain rather than weight loss. Suspected muscle spasms or gas. Maybe slight abdominal pain. Dr. Now focuses back on weight loss and the lack of seriousness. Psychotherapy is FINALLY going to happen.

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At therapy Lola placates Destinee over and over again. For some reason, the answer is never, “Hey, how about eating right, exercising, and effing listening to Dr. Now!?” Introspection in the parking garage is followed by the sound of the Dodge Charger’s shocks squealing in agony.

Month 7: Destinee visits Anthony’s grave. RIP Anthony. That’s followed by a nauseating burlesque dancing class. Destinee feels like a sexy woman, neither of which is true.

Month 8: Accompanying Destinee to the checkup with Dr. Now is Santana, a friend in Houston. Weigh in: 565.9. Still didn’t meet the goal. Dr. Now’s a pushover; he approves the weight loss surgery. Santana starts crying emotionally, and it’s just like the ocean under the moon.

Month 10: Weigh in: 502. It’s still not 80-lbs in two months. Surgery removes what appears to be Dumbo’s trunk, but it’s really the majority of Destinee’s stomach.

Month 11: Weight: 467. Oh no. Destinee is wearing a midriff bearing shirt, and it looks like a busted open can of Pillsbury Grands! Biscuits.

Month 12: Weight: 440. Destinee got a job delivering food. That’s like putting an alcoholic in a liquor store. To clarify, food deliveries in a Charger, which should be a net gain of somewhere around $0.37 per hour.

An inspirational message and music, reaching absolutely nobody, ends the episode. Watching Destinee go through the My 600-lb Life journey was a lot like her initial drive to Houston: much, much longer than necessary, and very uncomfortable.

My 600-lb Life airs Wednesdays on TLC.