I'm just going to add this little short autobiography about me, and then it's on with the story.
My story is much like Meg's, except I didn't get down so low on my weight. I have cut on and off (off now... :D) for about 7 years. I'm 16, soon to be 17. I have wasted over 1/3 of my life coping like this. I'm not complaining... not by a long shot. I just wish someone caught on earlier (I was caught when I was 13), so maybe it wouldn't escalate to such a terrible degree. I'm still in therapy, but I'm happy to report that I have eaten 'normally' for about 1 year, and I haven't cut in almost 5 months.
My ED didn't get so out of hand, and actually, I was bulimic, not anorexic, but many of the same emotions and feelings are prevalent and present for both horrible disorder. I hope that if you have an ED or a self-injury problem that you seek help as soon as possible.
God Bless, and enjoy this chapter.
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I remember the first time I met Jesse; youthful exuberance bubbling out of him. He was eager at first---he is still eager, but it is a bit more controlled now. From the first time I met him, I could see intensity like I've only seen a few times before driving him to succeed.
A sort of self-worthlessness has driven Jesse from the first time I met him; a desire to please someone. I later found out whom he had to please. His mother.
She is a formidable force, a bit egotistical, not very warm, but she is a decent person. She does care about Jesse a great deal, even though she rarely shows it.
Jesse one time confided in me that he once attempted suicide. I know all types of people attempt it, but I guess I didn't peg Jesse as the type. I should know better than to try to peg people in squares or circles.
~~*~~
I met Meg for the first time about 3 months ago. I didn't know about her problems before I met her, but by the time we were ready to part ways, I had a great suspicion that she had some sort of self-destructive behavior. I just didn't think self-injury and an eating disorder.
When she was brought in here a couple of hours ago, she was nearly dead. She barely had a pulse or was breathing, but Narcan and other drugs helped bring her back physically.
It will be harder to bring her back emotionally and spiritually.
I saw her arms and legs today. I've seen gruesome murder scenes, and they didn't have the same intensity of effect on me as that sight did. I guess it is in part because this is self-inflicted. Jesse sent for Plastics to stitch the big cuts up. He wants to minimize scarring.
I don't understand. I don't understand how someone could be in so much pain; he or she has to express it by not eating and cutting his or her skin. I just don't understand.
I know all about self-injury statistics. How it is estimated that up to 3 million Americans do this. How 80% of them are young women. How they are crying out for help.
I can't understand why, though.
I hope I will never understand why.
She weights about 90 pounds. The low end of good on the BMI scale is 20, 19 at the least. Meg's BMI is 14. Her electrolytes are out of whack, her hematocrit is 26. She has an NG tube, now used primarily for continuing charcoal and antidote, both, which, I've heard, taste awful. Later, it might be used for nutrients if she doesn't eat. I don't like forcing people to eat, but I took an oath to Do No Harm.
I wish the lines were clearer in what harm was. Is it more harm to force someone to eat when he or she doesn't want to. Or to let him or her starve and be "happy". At least for a short time, anyways.
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Jesse must be beating himself up. I know he has the tendency to go over all of the "What if's" over and over and over in his head.
He can go to the brink like this.
I find him in the hallway outside of the ER cubical where we worked on Meg. His head is down, and he looks tense. I go to talk to him. It might help him.
"You couldn't have prevented this," I say. He looks up with a bit of awe crossing his features, as if I have read his thoughts. I haven't. Lucky guess.
He looks back down. "I don't know. Maybe I could have. I just feel really bad."
"Maybe you can talk to her when she wakes up. She should be up in a few hours," I remind him.
He looks a bit grateful at me. He tries to smile, and is only partially successful. "Thanks," he says, sincerely.
"I know."
I do know now.
~~*~~
It is policy here at the hospital that if anyone is a danger to him or herself, we'll put them in restraints. I don't like this policy, because it can lead to people being very frightened when they wake up. It could be for the best, but I think that in most instances, it can lead to more harm than good.
Jesse said that Meg seemed frightened when she woke up.
I guess I would be too.
The road to recovery will be hard for Meg. The basic plan for Meg is that she'll spend a couple of weeks at the psych ward here at the hospital. If she is stable (eating regularly and not cutting), she'll be moved to a Vista Dal Sar, a residential treatment facility specializing in teens who have impulse control disorders; ie, shoplifting, self-injury, eating disorder, drug-addicts, etc.
I wish her luck for the following months, and I know that if she gets to liking herself again, she'll be a productive member of society.
~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~
*Note. I have based the name (and later the place) Vista Dal Sar on a treatment facility called Vista Del Mar that's in southern California. I have recently seen a documentary about self-injury that was on Discovery Health Channel (I know that US gets it. Not too sure about UK or other countries.) It featured this treatment facility.
Since I haven't been there, I'm going to base the fictious residential treatment facility (RTF) on my experiences in hospitals, artistic license, and what I can read from other sites on the Internet about other facilities.
I will make every attempt to make my RTF as true to life as I can.
Thank you
