Laughter Fills the Air

Unike yesterday, I can honestly say that I can fall asleep happy and in good thoughts tonight. Although the day had its ups and downs, like it does for everyone, the last hour made up for it. 

I spent this past hour laughing with others from the station; just laughing and having a splendid time. Laughing has always been the best medicine; and will always be, in my opinion. We had our girl session right in front of the nurses' quarters where we 'camped out' in a sense as all of us sat on the floor. When others from the station saw us sitting there, we simply told them that we were having a late night picnic, haha. 

The conversations we had were priceless. None of us were able to stop giggling and cracking up. Let me just say that it was an intense ab workout - for all of us present. I haven't enjoyed myself this much in a long time. Our harmonious laughter filled the station as it was impossible for us to keep quiet. To me, laughter symbolizes so many positive things - freedom, enjoyment, being content, etc. Laughter is something that I crave for when I laugh, I know that I am having a good time as no thoughts are plaguing me. 

First Night at Home Since August

Last weekend, I was given the option of going on night-leave and so I, credulous me, thought that it would be no different this time - that the choice of going on night-leave would be there. Well, I was wrong. This week was eventful to say the least. From the station lockdown on Wednesday to the consumption of both additional eadible calories and liquid calories on top of my meal plan and my first real dining out experience for the past 1.5 years, it's safe to say that a lot has happened with regards to my recovery in the past few days.

On Friday, during the doctor's round, the head doctor presented his case regarding his decision not to give me the option of night-leave and my world shattered into a million little pieces, just like a mirror does when it is dropped. Then again, broken pieces of glass are supposed to give you luck - just a thought. He wanted to give me two day passes that are valid for the entire day, which means that I had the possibility to eat lunch outside in a restaurant or at home on both Saturday and Sunday. His reason behind this, and I quote, "we do not want to rush into anything like last time and take on too much at once." 

Anger-ridden me, because of the situation and his belief, started to argue with him. For 10 minutes I sat there and pleaded my case, trying to successfully convince him and the rest of the team that night-leave would be good for me. With the day passes, I would have two meals in total that wouldn't be at the hospital; I used that as my main point. Thankfully, we came to a consensus - that I would be allowed to go home on Saturday after lunch as long as I returned for lunch on Sunday; which also comes down to having two meals outside. I was overjoyed and full of excitement and my mood altered immediately to a much healthier state.

...I just woke up from my first night at home of sleeping in my bed, with my sheets, in my room. Might I just say that I haven't slept this good since going to the hospital at the end of August - this night was pure bliss.

An amazing good night's sleep after an extraordinary afternoon and evening at home was simply beyond my wildest expectations of what would occur. Yesterday afternoon was spent with my mom and together with her, I organized my room and tried to tidy up my closet - which we achieved. The night was spent with my best friend, who came to look at our newly furnished and bought apartment, and we had a lovely time together - catching up and watching movies.

Having gone on night-leave was definitely the right option for me, as it has given me the incentive to try even harder in terms of my recovery because I want to lead a normal life again. And having a taste of that for the first time was, like I said, beyond my wildest expectations.

Italian, Anyone?

For the last 1.5 years, I have not ordered a proper meal at a restaurant.

For the last 1.5 years, I have always stuck to ordering soups or the lowest calorie options when dining out.

For the last 1.5 years, I have dreaded restaurants - all the people and social stress, the overwhelming array of meals and trying to decipher which one is safest to consume.

For the last 1.5 years, I have not been myself when being at a restaurant as my thoughts simply revolved solely around the meal.

All that changed tonight.

I went to dinner being myself for the first time in god knows how long. I met up with two of my best friends at 6 pm at my favorite restaurant in Vienna, which coincidentally, is an Italian restaurant that belongs to my great cousin. The food there is to die for and I had always loved going there; so I thought, why not start there? And so it was.

Looking at the menu, I instantly knew I wanted a pizza. I ordered a pizza funghi and didn't have second thoughts. I knew there'd be a lot of cheese on it and that the pizza would be made from white flour and not whole wheat flour, but did that stop me from eating the whole lot (except for the crust, because I've never been a fan of that)? No. That's right, I ate the entire pizza.

While elegantly dining out and enjoying our food, I did not second guess myself at all. I held normal, everyday conversations with my friends and there was no time for negative thoughts.  It was amazing; the whole experience.

And to finish off this amazing blog post, might I just say that the pizza was delicious and exceeded my expectations. I'm so proud of what I've achieved today.

Rough First Times

Today was uneventful for a for a Monday to say the least. Usually, mondays are the busiest days as it is right after the weekend - all the doctor's need catching up with the helpers; the psychologists are back; physiotherapy starts up again; ergotherapy begins as well. Stressful, to say the least. There is people running around everywhere the whole morning until visiting hours begin at 2 pm. Doctors, nurses, helpers, patients just hustling about one another in the corridor and dodging between each other in the rooms; it reminds me of Shibuya and the crossing, the whole disorder that it entailed - with people walking and crossing the street wherever they pleased.

As I said, at 2 pm it quietens down as visiting hours start. Everything dies down: all the chaos, the stress, the noise level - all of it. It's okay during the day as it is bright out and the sun is still able to radiate through my brightly decorated windows to keep me positive. But it's a whole different story for the evening visiting hours from 5 to 8 pm. It's already dark out; the hospital lights make you dreary and sleepy; and the thoughts get stronger and louder, just like a lion cub does as it grows older.

So far, I've always had someone be here with me for the nightly visiting hours because of those reasons, so that I would be distracted and feel more at home; it also showed that I have support and encouragement from others. But tonight is different. Tonight is the first night that no one came. A dear family friend had planned to come but tragic events came in the way and it didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. The notice I was given was too short notice to find someone else to come, so I had to figure out how to keep myself sane and positive. And so far, I've succeeded.

Today, I have made 30 origami cranes, 3 window color paintings, written a story, read in my book, made a friendship bracelet, etc. I've been occupying myself productively. Looking at the list just now, I realize that everything is something creative. I've come to love being creative and producing things while being here. It's something I hope to keep up with once I am well and healthy again.

I am able to survive tonight, by myself. I can do this. I have come so far - this is no setback for me. I won't let those thoughts get the best of me, I will get the best of them by staying positive and doing everything I possibly can to occupy myself. Starting with a movie, yup, that sounds good.

Goodbye Bedrest

Laughter, chatter, gossip - the exchanges and sounds of other people. That's what filled the air here today, at least for me as I was finally put off of bedrest! I no longer need to sit in my bed minute after minute and bore myself to death. 

Although it doesn't seem like much, since I am only allowed to walk around in the station itself, the only room I can really go into besides the one I'm residing in is the TV room that, at the same time, is the smoker room also. Even though it's a plain room - the wall has a craack and is mustard yellow, there is no windows and it generally is a mess - there is life inside. 

Today, I was in there with two other patients, one of whom has become a dear friend of mine, and another friend that came to visit us. And we were able to really talk, like women do when they meet up for the cup of coffee at starbucks in the mornings. I was finally able to talk with friends and I wasn't stuck sitting on my bed, or in my room for the matter of fact. I wasn't reminded of my illness. I felt normal. I'm learning how to feel and be normal again, and that's all that matters. I just need to remember that.

Weight gain is a slow process, and it takes time. I need to patient. I've been here the longest out of all eight patients, since September 7, and will still be here for a while because of my weight. I haven't gained a lot, which comes to show how messed up my bodily functions have become because of what I put my body through. I had to learn the hard way and now I just need to remain tolerant and not give up. I got this.

Encouragement and Support

Today’s been a rough day to say the least - one of the worst for sure - like one of those school days everyone dreads, where the time just does not seem to pass, and you are stuck there for ages, robbing you all of your energy and zest for life. I am emotionally drained, incredibly anxious and am most likely getting a virus.

The day started out amazing, but now, at night time, I’m not in a good and positive mindset at all because I am genuinely scared of the night nurse, whom I have never seen here this past month, and am probably getting an infection as the evening ritual of checking one’s blood pressure, temperature, pulse, etc revealed that I have acquired a mild fever. In most cases, it means nothing, something that you simply have for a day or two because you over-exhausted yourself and need to rest. But for me, in my condition, it’s not good. I already receive antibiotic medication twice daily, which is generally used to lower one’s temperature. But now, with 37.4 C and all other symptoms, I am scared that it will lead to setbacks in my recovery process as my health is still in a critical condition. Panic-stricken, that’s what I am, like the children in the well-known movie Monsters Inc  in which the ‘monsters’ creep into children’s rooms while they are in deep slumber -  dreaming of their fondest moments they have experienced thus far in their short little lives - scaring them to death. I want to get better, to get healthy. I really do not need any more complications. Tomorrow, the doctor’s will be informed and hopefully I’ll receive excellent news, that it is simply my body adjusting and that it is normal to happen; like a student eagerly running home with the biggest grin on his face, showing his parents a report card with the best grades possible. We’ll see. And I promise that to who ever reads my daily thoughts and vents, I will inform you. I’m hoping for the best.

I genuinely hope that by journalling and writing down my thoughts, that I can clear my mind and get rid of that wretch up there that is so dominating right now it is almost unbearable; just like having a big, strong, muscular and tough looking man bawl at you, and scrutinize you only with foul language without stopping. It’s horrible, trust me.

This morning I was finally able to take a shower and now my hair is finally bearable again - conditioned, taken care of, the whole lot. It honestly felt like I was sitting at the hairdresser, getting my hair pampered by getting the best hair cure treatment known to man. Realistically, I know I didn’t, but boy it felt good to finally be able to wash and condition my hair again. There’s even better news: I walked the ten meters to the shower by myself, without the help of a nurse - completely wobbly on my feet - but still. And that’s all because of starting physiotherapy yesterday. It seems like a miracle to me - like witnessing a shooting star soar through the horizon in a flash before it disappears before your eyes - being able to not need someone else's support to walk a short distance in such a teeny span of time. But I did it, I managed.

Then, at the daily round of the nursing team and doctors that occurs everyday at 10 am sharp, like clock work, I was informed that my meal plan would change abruptly. I would now have 1/2 of the typical portions for breakfast, lunch and dinner as well as being fed over the tube, still. Pure horror. Not only that, but I wasn’t told in advance, so I couldn’t mentally prepare myself and try to rationalize with my mind that it is what’s best for me, for my health, and that the experts know what they are doing. And guess what? I managed most my meals today  - with all the help, support and encouragement that I have from everyone around me.

Although regular patients here at the hospital, are able to chose from three different selections for all three meals, I was simply given three today, robbing me of my freedom in a sense. But again, I managed. I was so anxious, so afraid of the food - the voice in my head was screaming like it hadn’t in ages - because it wasn’t things I wouldn’t have chosen to consume. Noodles; I don’t remember the last time I had noodles - it seems like a decade ago - as they became a fear food for me that I avoided at all costs during the depths of my eating disorder; but I achieved to eat almost the complete half portion successfully. At lunch, the psychologist sat with me: comforting me, reassuring me that it is necessary for my body, my health - to try and eat as much as possible from the portion I was served - and was able to distract me from those horrid thoughts nested up there like a bird, still making itself feel at home. But slowly and surely, the voice is diminishing. At dinner, my mother was with me, and she basically did the same as the psychologist. In regards to eating, today was a success I must admit, most definitely.

And then it clicked. I realized how many people are here for me, supporting me through these hard times that I have to endure at the moment. I receive so much encouragement from everyone around me that it astounds me; I am speechless -  just like a woman that finds out she is pregnant and will start a family with her beloved.

So I dedicate this bog post to everyone who is there for me, supporting me in whatever way they can - whether that is by simply reading my blog, messaging me over facebook or another site, as there are so many nowadays that one really can’t keep track, to visiting me and sitting beside me while I eat. So thank you. I never realized how many people cared about me; but I realize now that I am surrounded by loved ones who would do anything for me. Take my parents for instance, they alternately travel halfway across the world from Tokyo to Vienna to ensure that I am never alone. Not to mention all the visitors I receive, bringing me small little gifts - to be honest, it feels like christmas whenever I receive a lucky charm, a card, a drawing, etc; whatever, as everything, no matter what it is, is a sign of love. And that, that alone, knowing that I have so many people rooting for me, gives me the strength to pursue with my recovery.

My window shelf, displaying things brought by people who have visited me thus far 

A lion I was given by elementary school friends that has the saying "Get Better" on it's scarf that I received today, that will now occupy my bed for the remainder of my stay here.

The hospital book that I started in which everyone that visits creates a page of their own,, writing words of solace and encouragement; that I will then forever keep.

Thank you everyone, for all the support. It means the world to me and helps me continue to fight.