Today was Simply Amazing

My whole family is reunited, at last. Best early Christmas present that anyone could ask for. It just wrapped up my incredible weekend at home so nicely. Everything was perfect.

Family photo in front of the Coca Cola Christmas Truck

I love my family. I'm so glad that we're all together for the holidays, even if I'm stuck in the hospital per se. It can only go uphill.

I Wish Numbers Didn't Exist

Numbers; Figures; Digits; Integer.

Whatever you call it, it doesn't matter - all they do is haunt me, plague me, torture me. Numbers inform us of our weight, the calorie content of food, the weight of food....With numbers, everything has an absolute value. These figures rotate around my head all day, especially my weight. I know that it shouldn't bother me but that's the thing with eating disorders, our weight determines the outcome of the day - of whether it will be a good or a bad body image day, or generally. I'm trying so hard to get away from this mindset. I don't want my day to be dictated by godforsaken numbers. 

I want to be able to wake up and not care what the scale says. 
I don't want my weight to determine my mental wellbeing for the day.
I want to be able to look in the mirror and like what I see regardless of the numbers.
I want to be able to forget about the numbers for an entire day.
I want to be able to live freely - without being bound to these digits that only affect me negatively.

I wish there was only mirrors, not scales. When I look in the mirror, I see myself and my body for what it really is - skin and bones. Although I've already gained 11 kilograms since the beginning of my stay, I still have a long way to go in terms of my weight; and I know that. But seeing the scale go up terrifies me to death, yet I know that looking in the mirror, I desperately need it to. And I know that. It's just easier to accept when looking at my reflection rather than focusing on those numbers.

Gaining Their Trust Slowly But Surely

The last three weekends, I had night-leave from Saturday to Sunday; yet I still needed to be here for a certain period of time. I was only allowed to leave Saturday after lunch as long as I was back for lunch the following day. Up until now, the doctors did not want me to have to deal with so many meals outside of the hospital just yet; as they thought it would be too overwhelming. They were right. It takes a lot of time and patience to get used to eating at home again; or better yet, not in the hospital - regardless of where I eat.

I have consecutively shown them that I can manage fine by eating meals outside as my weight has been progressively going up. Therefore, today at the doctors round, without my having to ask or argue whatsoever, the head doctor simply said that I would have a night-leave pass like everyone else this time - as it is the next step in my recovery process. I am allowed to leave tomorrow (Saturday) after breakfast and only have to return again on Sunday at 8 pm.

What I'll be doing exactly is still out in the open; I might be here for lunch, I might not. Who cares. 

All I care about is the fact that I have proven not only to myself but to the doctors as well, that everything is going uphill.

Not What I Expected

Excuse the lack of posts lately, I just haven't been feeling too great. Especially after yesterday's doctors visit. I was told that I can't go home for a few days over the holidays; I need to stay here, at the hospital. I thought that I would at least be able to leave for a few days. I'm sick of constantly being in the hospital and living in these surroundings - it's been bugging me a lot because let's face it, I've been stationed here since the end of August - that's almost four months. I simply wanted to spend just a few days at home with my whole family.

I keep telling myself that the doctor's are conscious of their decision and know what is best for me and my recovery. Maybe I'm not ready yet, who knows? Maybe they don't want my progress to be hindered in any way and are trying to protect me from my inner demons like this. What I am allowed to have is several night outings not only from Saturday to Sunday but during the week as well. The therapy will be limited as well, as it is the holiday season soon so most days I would also be able to spend the entire day outside and solely come back here to the station to sleep.

It's not ideal but it'll have to do. I have to start wrapping my head around the idea; I can't keep denying that I will get a longer leave. 

Although it's pretty much all clear as to what I will be allowed to do during the holiday season, I am asking tomorrow at the doctors round what exactly it entails for me. I want to know the specifics so that I can mentally prepare myself better for my stay.

Uncertain

Uncertainty is definitely the word of the day. I'm uneasy and I don't like it; it agitates me, I get anxious and then I'm incapable of being myself as my whole thought process revolves around this sense of uneasiness regarding my stay here at the hospital.

I had a plan concerning the next two to three months of my life. I thought that I would be dismissed next Wednesday, December 19, along with half of the station, so that I could spend the holidays at home with my family - with my loved ones - and then return at the beginning of January for another few weeks before fully separating from the hospital again.

Yet after the talk I had today with my assigned doctor and mom, everything is out in the open. The doctor said that she didn't foresee this 'break' you could call it for my stay here. She believes that it would be detrimental and only hinder my progress. My mom, on the other hand, has mixed feelings - she isn't sure herself. With reference to my short 'break', my doctor reasoned that I could maybe leave for a few days over Christmas - three or so - and then return; if that is at all possible. Either way, what I can definitely have during the holidays if I stay in the hospital is daily outings from dusk till dawn - or longer, because it gets dark so early, haha, that I just have to return before night time draws upon us. 

We had a very long, deep talk; almost an hour - which, in my opinion, is an extremely tedious time frame for just one issue. We did not arrive at any conclusions, leaving me with this feeling of uncertainty that I dread. I understand her reasoning and the points that she made, yet it is difficult to completely switch my thoughts regarding the subject in such a quick interval as I had wholeheartedly believed that I would be spending the holidays at home, and not in the hospital. It's hard and I don't know what to believe anymore; I am torn between two extremes, in a way.

Tomorrow this will be discussed further with the head doctor, my assigned doctor and myself. I'm scared of the outcome; scared of the unknown. Hopefully I won't be too disappointed with the end result. We'll see.

Reflecting On My Progress Since My Arrival

Tonight I went to visit someone who has become a good friend - let's refer to her as A - of mine down at the intensive station together with my mom. Unlike my mom, I have kept up with regular stop-bys at the intensive station, where I myself lay until October 31, to catch up with A. My mom hadn't been down there since the day of my dismissal at the end of October when I was transferred to my current station, 6B. I could see it in my mom's eyes that it was very strange for her to be back at the intensive station; even if it was just to see someone else. All the memories that surfaced in her mind regarding my state when I was there, my progress, simply everything that was somehow connected to my stay there must have been overwhelming for her.

Incidentally, that deja vu effect - or the reflecting on the past - didn't stop at that. Together with A, we talked about how far I have come since my arrival at the intensive station. My mom recounted a few incidents for me that occurred within the first week that I have absolutely no recollection of. I was in such bad shape physically when I was admitted - I wasn't in a coma per se, but I don't recall the first week at all; nothing, nada. 

Additionally:

• All my organs were failing
• I needed to have countless infusions a day
• My blood count was horrendous, requiring me to get blood transfusions and injections because my white blood cells ceased to exist and there was a severe shortage of red blood cells. 
• My weight was dangerously low, resulting in a BMI of around 10.3.
• I was unable to move.
• All my joints ached.
• I was fed over the nasogastric tube.
• I did not consume proper meals.

The list goes on.

Reflecting on my progress, on my journey, and seeing how far I have come and what I have been able to accomplish leaves me feeling good.

The conversation about what I have been through since arriving at the intensive station with my mom and A was hard for me - hearing what I put myself and my body through - yet rewarding at the same time.

Cold Weather - Time to Snuggle Up

As Christmas comes rolling around the corner, the weather's adapting to the predetermined Christmas conditions - lots and lots of snow. In a way, having a layer of snow cover the entire city is magical as everyone dreams of having a white Christmas.

Yet with the snow comes the cold, icy weather. Having frosty weather conditions and temperatures ranging from -8 to -2 C currently enables the snow to remain, yet it is uncomfortable for us. Being outside becomes a fight against time; the longer you endure in the bitterly cold, the warmer you should be dressed.

For me, being outside is both an enjoyment and a plague. I love winter, and the cold - especially when I'm outside at a Christmas market with friends. Yet being outside when it has these below zero temperatures is also bad for me as my body requires more energy to stay warm.

Whenever I go outside now, I wear layer upon layer upon layer. Today, for instance, I wore two pairs of tights underneath the thickest pair of sweatpants that I own while I wore five layers on top - not including my warm, fuzzy winter jacket. I am all bundled up and ready to face the cold like this. Yet not for too long because I need to make sure that I still consume enough calories on a daily basis that will enable me to continue gaining weight. I don't want to prolong my weight gain and by wearing lots of layers whenever I am outside for even the tiniest amount, I am hoping that will help.

So in a way, the cold weather is both a curse and an enjoyment for me.