Hello FPS! This isn't.... well, this isn't the type of story I originally planned on writing and putting here but what can you do? This is actually fairly serious compared to the only other story here I've transcribed for you guys, and sadly it's about a member of my family who I love very much. I may not like her, but I love her.

I present to you the tale of my Nana. This is definitely going to be a multi part series, because I've been bottling all this up for a very long time (2 years to be precise). These are probably going to long, but don't worry I'll make sure to TL;DR the end(s). There isn't much fatlogic here (although there is some peppered here and there in planned future installments), but there is a base overview of hammy behavior and a bit of an intro. If this breaks a rule, tell me and I'll shut it down or edit accordingly.

So, I come from a family of fat people. Not hamplanets (at least... none of the relatives I've met are), just run of the mill countryfolk who are fat. We all eat a lot, we're well aware that we're fat, and some of us are working to change that (myself, my mother, and my grandfather are all working on weight loss). Three things run in my family: diabetes (both types), bad eyesight (usually unrelated to said diabetes) and gnarly injuries. None of us are lucky.

Unfortunately, there's “Been an awesome new trend for all the ladies in the family!” in my mother's words. That trend is strokes. My mother's had one (and pulled through just fine- she's perfectly functioning now! Go Mom!) and my Nana had one that was quite literally identical to the one my mother had. Same spot, same physical impairments, everything. The difference is my mother pulled through while my Nana is still in a wheelchair.

My Nana was always a sweet woman. She still is- she's a honey ham, if you will. She used to work at an old folks' home until one day she slipped on a saran wrapped sausage patty and fucked her knee up almost irreparably. You think I'm kidding, but that's actually how it happened. One of the other kitchen staff dropped it and she was unfortunate enough to slip on it and land hard. She went through a surgery or two, and then wound up retiring at the ripe old age of... about 56. I think. She started putting on weight post knee surgery. Seriously, dinner for her was a giant fucking bowl of Captain Crunch (about.... a half a box I'd say). That mixed with uncontrolled type 2 diabetes didn't go well for her.

Back in 2014, Nana had a stroke. This shook all of us to the core (well- all three of us [not counting her]. Mom, me, Nana, and Papa are all incredibly close) and it was a very bad time. My Uncle Johnny flew up here from New York the very night it happened. None of us even left that hospital- we were there night and day as Nana got better and better. We all took turns sleeping Papa's truck and Nana's room (at least when we were finally allowed in). I never got much sleep while we were there.

Eventually when she was cleared for release, we selected an assisted living facility for her (she was OK with this). But, of course, that went down the shitter when she basically got the living shit abused out of her at that facility. They almost killed her 3 times (twice by OD'ing her on medication and once by hitting her in the back of the head) and we just brought her home.

Everything went swimmingly until Uncle Johnny left and went back to his wife and kids in New York. Then things... kind of took a turn for the worse.

I can't deny that strokes change people (I mean... I've seen it twice)... but this was a deliberate change for Nana. Her personality/cognitive abilities were not impaired at all when she was at the hospital/assisted living facility/her home when my Uncle was here. When Uncle Johnny left, she started to act much more different.

She slowly started acting much more out of it and while she had developed a social filter, she stopped using it. She now has to be the center of attention all the time, for anything and everything. She now sits in her wheelchair all day, makes no effort to move or use her paralyzed side, and constantly eats. This goes beyond the typical grandma-offering-food thing. She is literally eating junk food or requesting food/coffee all day.

She consumes Splenda like an a resident of Florida in the 80s consumes cocaine. I'll never forget how to make her coffee- 2 large spoonfuls of powdered french vanilla creamer and 10 heaping spoonfuls of Splenda. I took a sip once and I think my kidneys started screaming.

If Nana doesn't get her food/coffee, she will not let you sit down until she gets it (even if she just had a meal). She'll ask and ask and ask until you cave and give it to her. And oftentimes she'll turn down perfectly respectable homemade meals in favor of junk food (like... shitty off brand cookies or squeezy cheese and club crackers). I actually have an incident I want to tell you all about where this was a very important thing, but that's for another day.

She's also become incredibly passive aggressive and purposefully tries to provoke reactions (I manage to counter this one by being incredibly sarcastic when she asks something that she already knows) and this drives us all up the wall.

On top of it all, if you offer Nana any sort of criticism (constructive criticisms, mind you) she will immediately use one of three phrases:

"Is it because of my weight?"

”Why are you being mean to me!?”

“When are you gonna stop treating me like this!?”

We've tried and tried to get her to do things. We make her go to physical therapy. We make sure she eats healthy and try desperately to control her diabetes (although she already has a nasty case of corpse feet so something tells me her legs won't be long for this world in that wheelchair).

The sad truth of it all is she likes being taken care of. She loves being coddled and looked after. She burns through PCAs (personal care assistants) like brush fire takes away plants. It's a sad fact and we all know it but none of us can even say anything to her because she simply does not care and will just spout off one of the above phrases and ignore us.

She's really good at only hearing what she wants to hear. She runs everybody ragged for more because she wants something- we quite literally wipe her ass for her. We cannot do any more for her that isn't already done. She doesn't want a PCA or devoted family member, she wants a slave.

She's content, doesn't want to change, and it breaks my heart.

TL;DR a stroke turned my once nice-fat-lady Nana into a ham. A brief overview of her is contained within the long winded above paragraphs.

I'm sorry I went on for so long. This was all very cathartic to write out, and again I'm sorry there technically isn't any fatlogic here because I know in most stories it's the bread and butter of it all. I'm gonna go pass out now because I had a long day, but there'll be more to come (unfortunately).