It's fine. I'm fine. (pt. 2)
Okay, into the nitty gritty! [this one's going to be a long haul]
Like I said, my mom and I went down to this place called the Upstate New York Eating Disorder Service (had to look it up just now). I really had no idea at the time what I was even going to- all I knew is that my mom had made an appointment at this place that could potentially help with my breathing problems.
During that appointment, I had metabolic testing done and met with a dietician who had me fill out a questionnaire on eating habits and lifestyle. I remember we went over it in our meeting and she pointed out how the habits I had were heavily disordered and are frequently exhibited by people with anorexia. The ones I remember from the sheet are: chewing gum, having an eating schedule, eating a high volume of low-calorie foods to get full, calorie counting, having rules about things I "needed" to do before I ate and restricting foods- basically anything I had determined too high in calories- including meat, bread, dairy milk, salad dressings/things with oils, nuts etc.
Along with the questionnaire was a sheet that asked me to circle any symptoms I had experienced or currently was experiencing and, again, it was almost all circled. Examples of these included: frequent diarrhea, trouble breathing, sensitive to heat/cold, sores on hands (from nutrient deficiency), discoloration of fingers and toes (from poor circulation), blond hairs all over skin, no period, almost constant fatigue, frequently nauseous, and yellowing skin.
After we went over the sheets, she basically told me that I needed to do a 180. She said all these symptoms are signs of major concern. She wrote out a meal plan that she told me to follow and said that I also needed to stop exercising. She gave me the choice of being part of the in-patient program or being part of the intensive outpatient; I chose the latter. After all, there was no way I was going to actually stop exercising completely.
From there, it is blurry. I can't remember what led to the facility telling me I needed to get blood work done, but that is what they told me so my mom and I went to the hospital nearby. We spent over 2 1/2 hours there as they struggled, I struggled, and my mom struggled. They struggled to get enough blood out of me to run the tests. I struggled because I was, and still am, very scared of needles and blood and this was the first time I had ever had my blood drawn. So, as you can probably imagine, my mom struggled watching me become out of it as the hospital staff nonchalantly poked and prodded.
[Of course, I hadn't eaten anything yet that day because I don't eat breakfast and the timing of lunch varied depending on when I got my base activity requirements out of the way.]
Once I recovered from fainting in the exam chair and could stand without feeling like I was going to faint again, my mom and I headed outside and started walking toward Wegmans to get the new grocery items prescribed by the dietician. You may question why, after just recovering from fainting, I would be walking. To that I would remind you to look at what the dietician had told me earlier.
I remember going into the store and being severely stressed and overwhelmed as I looked at the list of all the items I was supposed to start eating that I had made 'off-limits' for several years. My mom, who was scared for me, tried to help but each item she tried to convince me of felt like she was just forcing me to get these things so that I would become fat.
Trust issues? Nah, I'm fine.
While in Wegmans, we received the call that my test results were very concerning; I think they went over some of the key stats over the phone but I don't remember. All I know is that they told me I needed to report to the ER immediately for more testing. At this point I was so scared and panicked I fully broke down in the store sobbing and shaking. So when my mom told me we were going to go to the ER near our house - an hour and a half away- instead of the one five minutes away, I did not question it. I needed that extra time to process.
That car ride was tough. Neither of us knew what to say. My mom called up her friend who we would ask medical questions. I was hoping she would put me at ease, but she also expressed concern and was not sure what could come out of the further testing. After that I just shut down. My mom sang along to worship music, her go-to method of processing, while I used my go-to method (outside of exercise), internalizing.
When we reach the Cortland ER, the memories are in bits and pieces. With it being May 2021, there were a lot of people in the waiting room - either solely with COVID-19 or also with a pre-existing condition that put them at higher risk. All I know is for some reason, I did not have to wait. I'm not sure if it was God or if it was that bad or both.
They brought me back into a room and did more poking and prodding. Since I had my blood drawn already earlier that day, my right arm was 'tapped out'; no more blood was coming out of the vein. They moved to the left and also had to try several times before getting enough blood to run the labs. Sometime after this, they came back and said that I needed to have a transfusion done. I needed elements of someone else's blood in my body because mine was too far gone.
Hemoglobin of 5. That's the number that stuck with me. Normal range is 13-15; 0 is death. I had equally concerning levels of white blood cells, red blood cells, platelets, vitamin B12, and iron but couldn't remember the numbers. So after over 5 years, today was the first time that I actually went into my online health portal. I wanted to find any test results collected during my hospitalization. Turns out the clinical notes and summaries, which detail all tests and results gathered during that time, have been available since May 21, 2021.
This helped me to fill in the missing pieces of my memory. In addition to blood work, I had an X-ray, EKG, and urine test done. Thankfully, these came back normal. However, due to my other very low values, they ordered a 2 unit transfusion of red and white blood cells.
IV's are the worst in my opinion. A thing that has to stay in me and send fluids around, ew gross. And they take too long, especially for someone who hadn't eaten all day and wasn't allowed to eat while this was being administered so as to not throw off the results. I remember that when it was finally over, all I wanted were pretzel sticks.
Apparently, there were none in the whole hospital so my mom got me the closest thing she could find: Snyder's Honey Mustard and Onion pieces. Even at this point, it took a lot of internal convincing for me to eat them because they are much higher in calories than your average pretzel stick and are very addicting- a quality I avoided in foods since it made it harder to limit how many I ate. It's cringey to write knowing what I had just endured but it's the reality.
Even after the transfusion, my levels were still borderline and the hospital was considering another transfusion. I expressed my strong desire against that and they offered an alternative for the time being of getting a vitamin B12 booster shot, prescribing me high doses of oral iron, vitamin B12 and folate, and monitoring my levels. I agreed to that and after the overnight in the hospital I was eager to get out of there. Upon being discharged they had given me an information packet and looking back at it now, it focused on iron deficiency anemia and labeled that as my diagnosis. They listed eating disorder and vitamin B12 deficiency as 'managed'.
The discharge instructions advised that I follow up with my PCP, gave loose guidelines on balanced diet, namely to manage the iron and vitamin B12 deficiency, provided a list of generic family counselors in the area, and sent me on my way.
Of course the hospital clearly isn't entirely to blame but it certainly didn't set me up for any long-term success.
Fresh out of the hospital and eager to burn off the bite of bread I had that morning, I was on my way.
~Another day, another slay~
Lydia
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