Henry Faamoana turned 17 on March 11 when he was in the hospital, so his mom brought ice cream and cake. Friends came up, and Henry's mom brought pizza and fried chicken for everyone. The doctors and nurses who kept Henry alive when he nearly died of heart disease and respiratory complications helped celebrate.

No more, says Henry's mom.

Her family has learned a lot since the oldest of her four children has been what she calls "sick."

Now Henry is trying to consume only around 1,000 calories a day. He's trying to stick to three meals a day. In the morning and afternoon, he walks around the family's apartment complex at 9300 South and Redwood Road. Sometimes he makes three laps, sometimes four. Either way feels like a marathon.

During a monthly visit to Primary Children's Medical Center, Henry's doctor is proud of his exercise report. "This is the hardest thing anyone can do," said Jackson during the visit. "It's like climbing Mt. Everest."

That is certainly how it seems to Henry.

Jackson is working to get the young man into what he calls "energy balance" — so what he consumes in food and calories equals or is less than what he burns off. "It's very hard to do," Jackson says. Because it's difficult to move when a person gets big, their joints hurt and breathing is hard.

Henry began gaining weight at age 8 and kept gaining more and more each year. Now Jackson is working just to stem the tide of weight gain. He's been seeing the teen every month.

Henry's mom says she's applying the education she learns from Jackson to the rest of her family. No more white bread for example, Moana Faamoana says. Statistics confirm that if the family can adopt healthy practices, it helps the child succeed, Jackson said.

"It's not only good for him, but it's for my other kids, too," she said at her son's medical appointment. "We all eat too much, but we're trying to do better."

Throughout the country, authorities are trying various strategies against the weight problem — with greater and lesser degrees of success.

Earlier this year, a Massachusetts school district sent students home with letters implying they might be at risk for becoming underweight or overweight after a height-and-weight screening.

Vicki Elliott, whose 4-foot-tall, 66-pound daughter was sent home with a letter warning that she was "at risk of becoming overweight," said the letter singled out children about a sensitive issue, according to an article in the Cape Cod Times.

It's none of the school's business, the mother said. "She probably can eat healthier, but that's for the doctor and me to decide, not the school nurse," Elliott said.

School officials said healthier children learn better and they meant the letter as an education tool, not an insult.

But that type of strategy probably wouldn't fly in Utah.