Friday, February 13, 1998
"...after school I sat around with Rhiannon for a little while before leaving around ten till three to meet my mom in the parking lot. She drove me to the doctor's, where we sat in the waiting room for close to an hour after Brook's mom (she works there) checked me in. A nurse eventually called my name after I tried flipping through a two year old issue of Good Housekeeping. First thing she did was weigh and measure me: I am 5'10" and 115˝ pounds. She led us down a short hall (I tripped once or twice, my foot had fallen asleep while sitting) to a room. She took my blood pressure, 84 over something. Then the doctor walked in after I had spent five minutes or so looking at a little modle of an ear and listening to my mom complain about my weight. She told the doctor about how I had been sick a lot lately and the loss of weight. He seemed rather bored when saying I had to read into becoming a vegetarian to get enough vitamins and stuff, and that I shouldn't lose any more weight. He kept asking me how I felt about my appearance. As if I would tell a total stranger my thoughts on that sort of thing...later I went over to Stacy's house with Darci and Jessica. I brought them all candy but didn't eat any myself. They all ordered pizza but I said I already ate..."
I wasn't allowed to go back to school after that, because my parents had no way to be sure I was eating when they couldn't supervise me.
Tuesday, February 17, 1998
"...today was the worst I've had in a long time. Woke up a little late just because, then forced myself to drink half a glass of ˝% milk. It tasted wonderful though, and I felt horrible for putting all that fat and all those calories into my body. But I know the doctor said I needed more calcium, and after reading the label on the vitamins I took, I decided milk was the only way to go. I think I'll make it a tradition, half a glass of milk every Tuesday morning. I think I can live with that if I think of the calcium... lunch: waited in line with Darci, then listened to Steph tell me to eat, when everyone at my table joined the conversation. Later, when walking through the halls as usual, Stacy told me to take care of myself. She really has strong opinions on this. In World Studies, Mr. DeLeón refused to let Sarah take a piece of paper from him to hand to me, saying it was private. This naturally upset her. All the note said was "2:50 doctors appointment, meet mom at the usual spot." Of course I was confused since mom had never mentioned this to me earlier. After school I had enough time to eat my tiny portion of plain lettuce, and listen to the scorn of Emily as she blurted "you can't live on strands of lettuce." Went down the hall towards the bathroom, enjoyed walking slowly by myself. As soon as I returned to the cafeteria, everyone was saying, "Katie, I saw your mom." Sure enough, my mom walked in a minute later. She took me to the doctors where we waited forever. Finally got escorted down the curvy hallways to a cozy little blue room, which I'm sure is just about identicle to any other given room in that hall. Dr. Smith asked me why I was so thin, rather blatently, almost casually, said that I was going to die if I keep eating the way I am. Yeah right, anorexia is a thing for stories and scaring people. He gave me a perscription for 10mg of Prozac, which in and of itself is alarming. Prozac is for psycho depressed old people, or so I heard. Also had an appointment made for me at Pine Rest for tomorrow morning, which was also disturbing, seeing as how that's where all the psycho people taking Prozac go. Scary indeed, in a commical manner. While the secretary lady was talking on the phone to the Pine Rest people, she kept saying, "I want to refer to you a patient with Anorexia." What the heck. If I had Anorexia I'd know it... I refused to eat dinner when I got home. Mom was on the verge of tears, which made me want to cry. I ate a pear, then fed the rest of my dinner to Gus while mom was in the other room..."
On February 23, my birthday strangly enough, I was taken to Forest View Hospital to stay as an inpatient. I was there for a little over two weeks before they decided I was in need of more acute care.
February 27, 1998 at 8:35pm
Today was much better than yesterday. The mornings get slower and harder every day, but that's normal. The days are starting to blend together into a vague memory of passing faces and endless trays of food.
Thursday, March 12, 1998
Today was definitly a change from the life I've been living for the past two weeks. Didn't eat breakfast, I wasn't hungry. Re-packed all of my stuff from Forest View, mostly just rearranged everything to take up less space. Arrived at Linden Oaks Hospital around 12:30 Michigan time. Spent most of the afternoon waiting around. Answered the by now standard list of questions, same old same old. I was put in a wheel chair of all things, mom had to push me around in it. Had an EKG done. Some lady stuck all these little sticky things on my ribs and arms, then hooked them up to a machine. She did the test twice, after staring at the first results with a puzzled expression on her face. She then listened to my heart with a stethescope for a while, and left me hooked up to that machine while she went to show the results to other doctors. I had to remain in my wheel chair after that, not allowed to walk anymore..."
I had to spend two weeks in a wheel chair, not even allowed to stand up because my heart was beating so slowly and the doctors thought I would have a heart attack. I used to think wheel chairs were fun to play around in, but now I refuse to sit in one ever again. I felt like such a child, not being able to go anywhere by myself, always having to ask someone to push me up to the nurses station for one reason or another. The first six months of 1998 were wasted completely in a battle between me and the voice in my head telling me not to eat.
March 18, 1998 at 10:30pm
I have no idea how to express what has been going on for the past few weeks, or months for that matter. It's funny that I never use this damn diary when I need it the most. I cry all the time now at the littlest thing, and today was a perfect example of it. Right now even, I am about to burst into tears at the slightest provocation. I am stuck in a box and I pulled the lid down tight, shutting myself in the dark, cramped space of my own misery. I don't want to go back to the way things used to be, and I'm too scared to even think about the future. Why bother living a life that will never be good enough? Would I really want to die if I was meant to live? Everything seems so trivial, so irrelevant and pointless that it baffles me to think someone would even consider having an opinion on it. Who the hell cares, I know I don't anymore.... Being healthy doesn't matter as long as I have my mind to tell me what to do. Just 15 more pounds and it will all be over... my goal to show who's really gonna have the last laugh and get out of this endless maze before I go crazy.
Anorexia Nervosa kills fifteen percent of its victims and traps almost fifty percent into a vicious, life-long cycle of hospital stays and medical problems. I was lucky to survive.
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