Thursday 16th July 2015. As written on the first page
of my diary, ‘The Beginning of the Rest of my Life.’ This was the day that I
was voluntarily admitted into Rharian Fields in Grimsby. I walked in believing
that I was going to be walking back out after 2 weeks. Little did I know that
this was going to be the hardest, rewarding and life changing 4 months of my
life. Unpacking my bags and watching mum make my bed whilst I wait to have my
first blood test, I glanced around the room. No lock on the door, emergency
call buttons on the wall, and a wheelchair that waited at the entrance of my
room to be used as a means of mobility around the unit for the next two weeks. Even then,
I couldn’t quite comprehend the situation that I had found myself in. The
treatment began; I was placed onto a re-feeding meal plan, having daily one-to-ones
and attending educational groups. These were things that I should have been
able to access in the community, however they are not available in the East
Riding, so hospital was my only option.
Here is an account of what I had to endure throughout my time in
hospital:
·
Medical assessments- blood pressure, temperature and pulse
monitoring twice daily for two weeks.
·
Blood tests taken daily and at 2:00am on the first night,
for 10 days.
·
Blood sugar levels tested 4-6 times daily for several
days, possibly up to 2 weeks. I was nearly admitted to A&E on the first
night because my sugar levels where critically low but I was not displaying any
symptoms at all which the nurses where concerned about.
·
I was on 4 types of medication to improve the health of my
brain and strengthen my bones. I also had to ingest glucose tablets, sometimes
4 a day to stabilise my blood sugars.
·
I was in a wheelchair for 2 weeks because my BMI was so
low and my body couldn’t cope, even though mentally I was still being driven to
walk around.
·
Regular eating of large meals at extremely regimented
times, including snacks and puddings.
·
Living with 4 other people that were also suffering with
eating disorders and engaging in damaging behaviours.
·
Had to ask to get a drink, because everything had to be
monitored and observed.
·
Weekly reviews to ask if you could have time out of
hospital or even if you could start portioning your own meals, including if you
could make a hot drink.
·
Could start having snacks out and going home after 7
weeks.
As you
can imagine, this was incredibly difficult to cope with, and being faced with
‘fear foods’ at every single meal and trying to stomach the amount that you are
being given to eat was excruciating; for both mind and body. I cried at
practically every meal because the anorexic voice was screaming at everything
that I was doing. After a while you start to accept that it isn’t you that is
putting yourself through this, it is everybody else forcing you. This slightly
relieves the anorexic thoughts because you eliminate all responsibility for
what you are eating and the lack of activity that you are doing. So just when
you feel like you are improving, you begin to portion your own meals and pick
your own snacks which places all the responsibility back on you, and the
nightmare strikes up again. It is a huge rollercoaster and something I would
never wish upon anybody. The battle is still there and some days you can feel
as though you are absolutely fine. However, anorexia likes to cling onto your
life and even when I was improving in terms of restoring weight and gaining a
healthier relationship with food, I was constantly reminded of the fact that
the illness isn’t going to go away over night, similarly to how it doesn’t
develop that quickly. Nevertheless, I did find different ways of coping with difficult
experiences in hospital, such as relaxation techniques, having Reiki sessions
with one of the wonderful nursing assistants and doing crafts. I picked up
quite a reputation for completing jigsaws in record time, and as soon as I
finished one, sure enough I would receive another in the post from family
members. I found that doing the jigsaws was a fantastic way to quieten the
negative thoughts that were racing through my mind.
There
was very little that would encourage you to get through a day in hospital,
other than the determination to get better and get out of there! However, as
soon as 7pm arrived and visitors could walk through the door, that was enough
motivation for you to consume that last mouthful. Just the sight of a familiar
face and a realisation that you were going to be able to find out something
that was happening out in the real world was incredibly uplifting. I find that
the best way to describe hospital is like a bubble; you can see and hear everything
that is happening on the outside, but you have no way of getting out to
experience it for yourself. All I can say is that having visitors makes you
remember that there is a life outside of hospital, and that is so motivating
for recovery. When I look back, I do feel guilty about how I utilised some of
these visits. It is awful when you are having a bad day and you know you have
somebody coming to see you, but you are just in such a foul mood and can’t
break yourself out of it. Sometimes I would just sit and cry, or try to do
everything to avoid conversation. As wonderful as it is to hear about things
going on in the ‘outside world’, the fact you are stuck in hospital makes you
become so frustrated because you cannot change the situation you are in.
On the other hand,
one of the many things that I did learn at hospital was that I wasn’t alone. I
wasn’t the only person having to deal with this illness. I made some incredibly
close friendships in hospital, and these are something that I will value for
the rest of my life. Unless you have been in this situation, you will not
understand how having somebody that is willing to listen and converse with you
about your problems, can have such an incredible impact on your emotions.
Whether this person is another patient or one of the nurses/nursing assistants.
I don’t really like calling the clinical staff as their job roles because they
are so much more than that. They become your guardian angels, your support
network, and whilst remaining professional, one of your best friends. They
provide you with a shoulder to cry on, remain calm and rationalise situations
when you are screaming in their face about the way a meal is prepared or
portioned up. They are saintly, and if the world didn’t have people like that
in it, then I would have no hope for anybody. They truly turned my life around,
and I will be forever grateful for that.
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