DATE: Sunday, May 25, 1997                  TAG: 9705230072

SECTION: DAILY BREAK             PAGE: E11  EDITION: FINAL 

COLUMN: IMPERFECT NAVIGATOR

SOURCE: ALEXANDRIA BERGER

                                            LENGTH:   70 lines

STIGMA, DANGERS OF FAT KEEP US SEARCHING FOR MAGIC CURE

FAT! IT'S AN American obsession.

Each morning, I pop the top on a can of Nestle Sweet Success Dark Chocolate Fudge drink and chug-a-lug the contents. Then, I eat a cup of bran, second only in taste to tree bark.

Four hours later I repeat the process. I've just had my breakfast and lunch. Five hundred calories. Dinner is another 500 calories. No snacks. Has this kept me a lean, mean, thin machine? You're kidding.

As a youngster, my mother, the maven of high fat content and anything blended with butter, reminded me that poor children in the ``Country of the Month'' were starving. Belonging to the ``Clean Plate Club'' was the prized symbol of mother's love. It was the Mother Law.

At college, I lost the need for ``mother food praise'' along with 25 pounds. Seeing my wrist bones for the first time, I thought they were broken.

Then, there was the time my date got stuck in the revolving doors of my New York apartment building. The concierge called, saying there was a man downstairs who'd ``eaten San Francisco.'' It took two hours to extricate him. He was humiliated.

So why am I telling you this? Because being fat is no laughing matter. For some, it's a grave disability. Drink this. Eat this. Buy this machine. Take these natural substances. Change your body's metabolism. Have this part of your stomach stapled. Use this drug. Hypnotize. Exercise. We guarantee you'll lose weight or your money back.

Billboards, magazine ads, packaging, TV talk shows. Doctors speaking to their peers about the latest treatments for obesity. Support group meeting weekly. It doesn't stop. Susan Powter, TV's weight-loss hawker, screams ``You've got to move. You've got to eat. You've got to breathe. Every day.'' Like we didn't know that not breathing is bad. In 100 percent of cases not breathing can be fatal.

Still, they come. Looking for the magic bullet . . . the secrets of the ``blessed thin.''

The reality is if you're fat, you're ostracized. And if you're in a wheelchair, disabled or on bloating medication, you're at an added disadvantage.

According to an editorial by Dr. JoAnn Manson in a 1996 edition of the New England Journal of Medicine, ``obesity is recognized as a chronic disease that requires long-term treatment. Obesity is the second leading cause of preventable death in the United States, and the major risk factor for heart disease, diabetes, hypertension and some cancers.''

Think of yourself as a fruit. If you're shaped like a pear you're at less risk of contracting those diseases. If you're shaped like an apple with your fat around the middle, you're in trouble.

However, the latest scientific research shows if you're overweight it's not entirely your fault. It's genetics gone awry. You may have sick genes. But, soon, you too will be thin. Have faith. Science is going to fix that.

Currently on the market are dexfenfluramine, certain antidepressants, natural substances and over-the-counter Dexatrim (shown to be effective, based on an FDA review) which promise weight loss. And now there's the soon-to-be approved Hoffmann-LaRoche drug Xenical (pronounced zen-i-cal), which asserts we'll be able to lose 10 percent of our body weight in one year. This drug is intended for people about 20 percent or more over their healthy body weight.

The catch with all of these new drugs is they're for life. Because these substances normalize the brain's chemistry controlling hunger and satisfaction, you regain the weight if you stop taking them. The name of the game is pay up or pork up.

In the meantime, think this way: eating fat is fattening. Obese people appear to burn fat slower than thin people.

Until scientists can manipulate my genes, pass the potatoes. Hold the butter. I gained five pounds on dexfenfluramine. MEMO: Write to Alexandria Berger, c/o The Virginian-Pilot, 150 W.

Brambleton Avenue, Norfolk, Va. 23510.

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