I Used To Be

Chapter 11, Part 2

            The next thing I felt was warm arms around me. I smelled her, that patchouli mix, her shampoo, something minty, I could even smell the makeup on her face. Everything was okay. I had that same feeling I had that night at her house. Like nothing could possibly ever be wrong, no matter how wrong everything actually was.

Heart attack. I'd had an actual fucking heart attack. And then a seizure. Hence the restraints.

"That's not possible. I'm 17 years old."

"Actually," said the big sweet nurse, "Both of these things are fairly common in patients with anorexia nervosa." I could hear Mom quietly sobbing.

I don't know how Isabelle convinced the nurse to let her get in bed with me, but somehow, she was still there. The restraints were gone and Isabelle had maneuvered under all the tubes so that I was curled into her chest and her arms were around me. The nurse didn't seem freaked out by this, and Mom was clearly preoccupied.

"But I don't have . . ."

"Yes you do, honey. You have a pretty severe case of it actually. You're very, very lucky to be alive. We almost lost you a few times. And you're lucky to have your mom and your friend here who care about you. We're gonna get you the help you need, sweetheart. But right now, just rest. I'll let your friend here stay with you a while. She seems to be helping to stabilize your vitals, actually."

Anorexia nervosa. Wow. I had finally done it. I was finally one of them. I couldn't wait to log onto PAM and start a thread about this: hospitalizations, heart attacks, seizures; had anyone else on the site actually been through this? I always assumed everyone there was so much thinner than me; how had this happened? And what did she mean "get you the help you need"? I couldn't handle any of this. I curled into Isabelle and closed my eyes. I don't know if the nurse kept talking to me or not.

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