In Times of War

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Maria, what’s with the sudden change of heart?”

“What do you mean?”

   “I mean, you ate something last night and you kept it down.” Doctor Tennant sits on the edge of my bed. I had forgotten about that. I felt so guilty about it. I didn’t want to think about it at all. I had done it not so as not to hurt Leo’s feelings, and because David had asked me to, and also because I couldn’t become a nurse in the Army without getting Doctor Tennant to think that I was cured. I just had to be well enough for him to discharge me and give me a clean bill of health, and then not eat much after that.

“Yes, and…”

“What made you suddenly made you decide to eat?” I shrug like I don’t know.

“I guess I just didn’t want to hurt Leo’s feelings.”

“You know that it’s a good thing that you ate, right?”

“Maybe from your perspective.” I mutter under my breath, but obviously it wasn’t soft enough. He puts his fingers on my wrist, checking my pulse.

   “Not just mine, Maria. You’re better this morning, anyone can see that. You woke up before noon, your heart rate is close to normal, and you overall look better.” I roll my eyes. “Alright, I can see you don’t want to believe me, but it’s true. Now, a little birdie told me that you received a letter from Tony yesterday. Would that have anything to do with you eating?”

   I shrug. I really don’t want to talk about this. I want to be out of here by my birthday so I can help people. “I don’t know, maybe. Look, I just want to get out of here as soon as possible. So, can you do us both a favor and just discharge me right now?”

   “Maria, I’ve been your doctor since before you could talk, I’m not going to just discharge you unless I’m absolutely positive that you’re alright and that you’re not going to relapse. The first step is getting you to gain weight.  Now, come on, it’s time for your weigh in.” They’d told me I’d have to weigh in every week to see if I was gaining weight.

   “Okay, just give me a minute to brush my hair, please.” As soon as he leave I rush to the sink and drink as much water as I can while making my hair look like I’d brushed it. If they wanted me to gain weight, then I’d make it look like I was. When he comes back I walk with him to the scale. I stand on it while he adjusts the weights and such. He smiles in a confused way when he becomes satisfied.

   He jots something down on his clipboard than tells me my new weight. I’ve lost seven pounds in the last week, including the weight added by the water. He takes me back to my room and leaves me with a peanut butter sandwich on a plate. I want to vomit, throw it away, anything besides eat it.

   “Come on, Maria. You can do this. This is how you get out. Come one, get over yourself.” I talk myself into eating some of the sandwich. I start by eating the crusts, and then I tear the sandwich into small pieces. I eat two of the tiny pieces, but I can’t force myself to eat anymore. I open the window and throw the remaining pieces of the sandwich, a good amount, out it. I close the window and manage to sit back on the bed with the empty plate just as Doctor Tennant walks back in.

“Really, Maria, this is a dramatic change, almost too dramatic. What did Tony say to you to get you to eat again?” He seems astonished, but suspicious as well.

“Nothing, maybe I just want to get better.” I lie.

“Well, that’s great to hear. I’ll be back later to check on you.”

   “Okay, bye!” I say with way too much fake enthusiasm. He raises an eyebrow and looks at me like I’m crazy, but he leaves. I struggle to keep the food down. By most people’s standards what I had eaten was hardly a small snack, but to me it felt like a Thanksgiving feast. I wanted to vomit it all up, but I forced myself not to. I had to gain weight if I wanted to get out of this white-washed prison. I fully intended to lose every ounce of it again as soon as they let me out.

   There isn’t really anything that happens except my mother comes with a book. I literally tackled her when she appeared with The Hobbit, my favorite book. She was so excited that I had eaten something she started crying. It was the first time in a week she had not been sad and depressed. It made me happy to see her so happy. I wanted her to be that happy all the time, but I really didn’t want to eat more than I absolutely had to.

   She babbled on and on the whole time she was visiting. She was so happy over a cookie and a partially eaten sandwich. Of course, they thought I’d eaten the whole sandwich. It still seemed like a lot to get excited about. I definitely wasn’t excited. I felt like the guilt was going to swallow me whole if I didn’t get rid of the food now. My brain knew it was too late, that I’d already digested it, but I could still feel the heaviness in my stomach. Whether that heaviness was the food, or guilt it was hard to tell.

   My body felt good, though. I had energy, my stomach was full, and I felt like I could do anything. But that was all physical. Mentally I couldn’t possibly have felt worse. I was disgusted with myself, disgusted at the weight I had gained. Despite how awful I felt, I smiled because my mother was happy. She was no longer beating herself up about me. She was convinced that it was her fault that I wasn’t eating, that it was because of something she did. Doctor Tennant had also said that disorders like this were often hereditary. While my mother was never anorexic, her sister was and she was convinced that because Eleanor had it that she had somehow passed it on to me. It’s possible, apparently, but I don’t think that’s it. I don’t even want to think that I have a disorder. Nothing’s wrong with me, I just want to look pretty. And pretty is skinny.

“Maria… Maria…”  My mama’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts.

“Hmm?” She takes one of my hands, and I’m nervous.

“Maria, I want you to promise me that this isn’t just to get out of the hospital. Tell me that this is because you honestly want to get better.”

“Of course,” not, but hey, it’s what she wants to hear.

“You promise?”

   “Uh huh.” I nod so it felt less like lying because I didn’t actually say ‘yes’. She was so happy that she started babbling again. She babbled until the clock showed eight o’ clock and she left for home. I was kind of glad she was gone because she wasn’t talking my ear off anymore and she wasn’t trying to make me feel good about eating. Eating wasn’t good.

Or was it?