In order to determine my readiness to tolerate the stressors of the brain surgery that would bring my Cushing’s disease under some control, I was asked to meet with a psychiatrist who specialized in treating people with obesity related issues. As I entered the waiting area, I could see two women teetering on the edge of chairs that were far too small for people of their size. A third person, noticeably uncomfortable, managed to squeeze himself into a seat and sat sweating profusely as his girth overflowed the space beneath the armrests. Seeing no suitable chairs, I made a conscious decision to stand until I was called in to see the doctor. Eventually, the door to the inner office opened and a very tall, exceedingly slim man called my name. Although he did not introduce himself, I assumed he was the psychiatrist when he offered me a seat identical to the ones in the waiting area, while he retreated behind the desk and sat in a noticeably large, adjustable and armless chair.