Author's Note: Here's what you've all been waiting for so badly...
[] mean a character is thinking something.
* means emphasis on a word(s).
Quest for Perfection
| Chapter Five: The Diagnosis |
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Swirl, swirl, twist, twist. Chipped paint here, chipped paint there. I think the painter missed a few spots. There was a white ceiling with patterns on it that danced together in a somewhat mesmerizing motion. Then, there was tannish blotches here and there, which the stupid painter neglected.
[That paint job sucks.] I thought to myself.
There I was, sitting in the waiting room of Doctor Kendell's office on a Saturday morning, about to discover how badly I messed my body up... and what was I doing? Scrutinizing the painted ceiling. What else was I supposed to do? I guess in certain situations, when a person is nervous about something, they manage to find entertainment quality in even the slightest things. In my case, it was the ceiling. Mom didn't seem to be doing anything to keep herself entertained, though. I glanced over at her a few times to see her biting her lips, biting her knuckles, and just looking more terrified than a deer caught in headlights. I think she was more scared than me. Can you believe that? Well, I'll tell you, I was extremely frightened at that point. I wondered what was in store for me; what the future held. Did I even have a future? I didn't think so. I thought I was going to be intangled in this dangerous web of confusion and pain for the rest of my days... and I didn't think I had many of those left. It was sort of like I was a criminal on death row who was about to be given a lethal injection.
"Elizabeth McGuire?" Doctor Kendell said, stepping out of his office.
"Right here," Mom answered, pointing at me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He poked. He thumped. He touched me with cold metal objects. I was sitting on that bed type thing in my underwear, practically freezing to death as he examined me.
"Okay," he said, writing something down on his little clipboard, "Could you step on the scale for me?"
"O... ka... y," I shivered, slowly getting off the bed and making my way over to the scale.
"Go ahead, step on," he instructed, and I did as I was told.
"Alright," he said, moving the metal things back and forth to different digits. Finally, he stopped. And I had my breath, preparing myself to hear the one thing that had held the most significance in my life for the past month; My weight.
"Eighty two," he said, writing it down.
[Whoa! Eighty two? No way! That's not possible.]
"Are you sure?" I asked, still shivering uncontrollably.
He nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. This scale is right - it doesn't lie."
I pursed my lips and wrapped my arms around myself even tighter, desperately trying to warm up. But it was to no avail.
"You can get dressed, Elizabeth. Then I want you to come into my office, okay?"
"Okay," I replied.
He flashed me a sympathetic smile and walked out of the exam room.
"I don't get it," I said to myself quietly as I stepped back into my clothes. "Eighty two is thin, but I don't *feel* thin. What's wrong with me?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Elizabeth, are you aware of your drastic weight loss?"
I was sitting in Doctor Kendell's office in a chair across from his desk. He was staring right at me, and I wanted Mom to be in there with me so badly. But she wasn't allowed because, as Doctor Kendell said, it's his and I's time to talk.
"Well," I responded, "I guess."
"You guess?"
"I don't know. I mean, I know I've lost a lot of weight but I just don't *feel* it. Do you know what I mean?"
"Yes," he said, leaning back in his chair and nodding like a professional, "I understand. How do you feel physically?"
"Exhausted," I shot right out, "*Very* exhausted. And weak, really weak. Lightheaded, nauseous."
"Okay," he said, "How about mentally?"
I shook my head and searched my messed up mind for the proper word to describe how I felt in my screwed up head. I found it after a few moments.
"Numb."
"Numb?"
"Yes, numb."
"How so?"
"I don't know, it's weird. I can't think about anything else but losing weight, you know? Like, I'll be taking a test in school but I won't be focusing on it. Instead, I'll be focusing on my weight. It's strange."
"I see," he said, still nodding. Then he leaned in looked at me sharply. "Do you want to lose anymore weight?"
"No," I explained, "I don't *want* to. But I don't want to gain anymore weight, either."
"Okay," he said, standing up. "I'm going to call your mother in here so she and I can talk. You can stay and listen, if you'd like."
I just nodded. I was too tired to care about anything that was happening.
"Hello, Mrs. McGuire," Doctor Kendell said as Mom entered his office. "Have a seat."
As Mom sat down next to me, she looked at me with very worried eyes and I felt so guilty for putting her through all this.
"Mrs. McGuire," Doctor Kendell said, "I'm afraid Elizabeth has an eating disorder called Anorexia Nervosa. Do you know what that is?"
Mom clapped her hand over her mouth. It looked like someone had just slapped her. I, too, was shocked by this revelation. I knew what anorexia was, but I never even considered the fact that I could possibly have it.
"I take it you know," Doctor Kendell said.
"Yes," Mom said, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Elizabeth's very ill. This may have started out as a simple diet, but it is no longer just that. She has been starving her body for quite sometime. This is a life threatening illness. Elizabeth is underweight, which leaves her at risk for heart failure."
"You mean a heart attack?" Mom asked.
"Yes," he replied.
[A heart attack? No freaking way! I'm too young.]
"But she's only thirteen!"
"That doesn't matter," he explained, "She's underweight and that can cause a heart attack. And that's not the only medical problem she's got. Her self-induced starvation has done other damage to her body and in order to see what type of damage it is, we've got to run tests."
[Oh great, McGuire! That's just great. You've screwed your body up. You stupid loser, can't you do anything right?!]
Mom looked like she was on the verge of tears. "Oh God, I can't believe this. I should have realized that something was wrong!"
"Mrs. McGuire," Doctor Kendell gently said, "It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself."
Mom closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath. Then she opened them and began to speak again. "So what do we do now?
"There is a special unit at Mercy Hospital for people with eating disorders. Elizabeth needs to go there for treatment."
"How long will she be there?" Mom asked.
"That depends," he told her, "It'll take a while. A few months, probably. It's up to Elizabeth to get better. Everything is up to her."
"I'll go," I said.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter six coming soon!
[] mean a character is thinking something.
* means emphasis on a word(s).
Quest for Perfection
| Chapter Five: The Diagnosis |
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Swirl, swirl, twist, twist. Chipped paint here, chipped paint there. I think the painter missed a few spots. There was a white ceiling with patterns on it that danced together in a somewhat mesmerizing motion. Then, there was tannish blotches here and there, which the stupid painter neglected.
[That paint job sucks.] I thought to myself.
There I was, sitting in the waiting room of Doctor Kendell's office on a Saturday morning, about to discover how badly I messed my body up... and what was I doing? Scrutinizing the painted ceiling. What else was I supposed to do? I guess in certain situations, when a person is nervous about something, they manage to find entertainment quality in even the slightest things. In my case, it was the ceiling. Mom didn't seem to be doing anything to keep herself entertained, though. I glanced over at her a few times to see her biting her lips, biting her knuckles, and just looking more terrified than a deer caught in headlights. I think she was more scared than me. Can you believe that? Well, I'll tell you, I was extremely frightened at that point. I wondered what was in store for me; what the future held. Did I even have a future? I didn't think so. I thought I was going to be intangled in this dangerous web of confusion and pain for the rest of my days... and I didn't think I had many of those left. It was sort of like I was a criminal on death row who was about to be given a lethal injection.
"Elizabeth McGuire?" Doctor Kendell said, stepping out of his office.
"Right here," Mom answered, pointing at me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He poked. He thumped. He touched me with cold metal objects. I was sitting on that bed type thing in my underwear, practically freezing to death as he examined me.
"Okay," he said, writing something down on his little clipboard, "Could you step on the scale for me?"
"O... ka... y," I shivered, slowly getting off the bed and making my way over to the scale.
"Go ahead, step on," he instructed, and I did as I was told.
"Alright," he said, moving the metal things back and forth to different digits. Finally, he stopped. And I had my breath, preparing myself to hear the one thing that had held the most significance in my life for the past month; My weight.
"Eighty two," he said, writing it down.
[Whoa! Eighty two? No way! That's not possible.]
"Are you sure?" I asked, still shivering uncontrollably.
He nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. This scale is right - it doesn't lie."
I pursed my lips and wrapped my arms around myself even tighter, desperately trying to warm up. But it was to no avail.
"You can get dressed, Elizabeth. Then I want you to come into my office, okay?"
"Okay," I replied.
He flashed me a sympathetic smile and walked out of the exam room.
"I don't get it," I said to myself quietly as I stepped back into my clothes. "Eighty two is thin, but I don't *feel* thin. What's wrong with me?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Elizabeth, are you aware of your drastic weight loss?"
I was sitting in Doctor Kendell's office in a chair across from his desk. He was staring right at me, and I wanted Mom to be in there with me so badly. But she wasn't allowed because, as Doctor Kendell said, it's his and I's time to talk.
"Well," I responded, "I guess."
"You guess?"
"I don't know. I mean, I know I've lost a lot of weight but I just don't *feel* it. Do you know what I mean?"
"Yes," he said, leaning back in his chair and nodding like a professional, "I understand. How do you feel physically?"
"Exhausted," I shot right out, "*Very* exhausted. And weak, really weak. Lightheaded, nauseous."
"Okay," he said, "How about mentally?"
I shook my head and searched my messed up mind for the proper word to describe how I felt in my screwed up head. I found it after a few moments.
"Numb."
"Numb?"
"Yes, numb."
"How so?"
"I don't know, it's weird. I can't think about anything else but losing weight, you know? Like, I'll be taking a test in school but I won't be focusing on it. Instead, I'll be focusing on my weight. It's strange."
"I see," he said, still nodding. Then he leaned in looked at me sharply. "Do you want to lose anymore weight?"
"No," I explained, "I don't *want* to. But I don't want to gain anymore weight, either."
"Okay," he said, standing up. "I'm going to call your mother in here so she and I can talk. You can stay and listen, if you'd like."
I just nodded. I was too tired to care about anything that was happening.
"Hello, Mrs. McGuire," Doctor Kendell said as Mom entered his office. "Have a seat."
As Mom sat down next to me, she looked at me with very worried eyes and I felt so guilty for putting her through all this.
"Mrs. McGuire," Doctor Kendell said, "I'm afraid Elizabeth has an eating disorder called Anorexia Nervosa. Do you know what that is?"
Mom clapped her hand over her mouth. It looked like someone had just slapped her. I, too, was shocked by this revelation. I knew what anorexia was, but I never even considered the fact that I could possibly have it.
"I take it you know," Doctor Kendell said.
"Yes," Mom said, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Elizabeth's very ill. This may have started out as a simple diet, but it is no longer just that. She has been starving her body for quite sometime. This is a life threatening illness. Elizabeth is underweight, which leaves her at risk for heart failure."
"You mean a heart attack?" Mom asked.
"Yes," he replied.
[A heart attack? No freaking way! I'm too young.]
"But she's only thirteen!"
"That doesn't matter," he explained, "She's underweight and that can cause a heart attack. And that's not the only medical problem she's got. Her self-induced starvation has done other damage to her body and in order to see what type of damage it is, we've got to run tests."
[Oh great, McGuire! That's just great. You've screwed your body up. You stupid loser, can't you do anything right?!]
Mom looked like she was on the verge of tears. "Oh God, I can't believe this. I should have realized that something was wrong!"
"Mrs. McGuire," Doctor Kendell gently said, "It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself."
Mom closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath. Then she opened them and began to speak again. "So what do we do now?
"There is a special unit at Mercy Hospital for people with eating disorders. Elizabeth needs to go there for treatment."
"How long will she be there?" Mom asked.
"That depends," he told her, "It'll take a while. A few months, probably. It's up to Elizabeth to get better. Everything is up to her."
"I'll go," I said.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter six coming soon!