But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Prolonged QT, Doesn't Stop the Binge Yet another thing to set my mom off. Thursday was EKG day. My doctor here faxed to to my endocrinologist at Stanford, who turned it over to cardiology. It is 7:00pm on Thursday night. I am playing PacMan and waiting for my friend to call. The phone rings... "Hey Gwen, this is Laurie. Cardiology just reviewed your EKG and it came back as abnormal. Your QT line is prolonged. You have to get into a pediatric cardiologist as soon as possible. I am going to try and set it up. In the meantime, I need you to take really good care of your diabetes." "I know Laurie, but it is so hard. I hate this." "Gwen, I don't want you to have no heart rate. Do you realize that is what you are doing? You are at severe risk for a heart attack. Cardiology isn't insisting that you go in the hospital right away, but you do need to come down here immediately. Can I speak to your mom?" She talks with my mom. My mom gets off and yells at me. "Great Gwen, now they want to evaluate our whole family history. We have to make an 800 mile round trip this week, and they never even put you in the hospital." "Mom, people don't live their lives in hospitals." "Gwen, you need it. Do you see? You are killing yourself! Don't you get it? You are dying!" "Mom, no I'm not. If I was truly dying I would be in the hospital right now." "Gwen, no you wouldnt! They said it isn't healthy for you to spend your life in hospitals so they won't admit you. Also, the insurance is reviewing everything and no one will pay!" I leave and binge. Fuck it all. I eat a whole bag of chips, a jar of guacomole, a bag of Oreos, one pound of cheese, a box of Cocoa Pebbles, three cereal bars, and a liter of milk. I am as bloated as a pregnant woman. I weigh myself. 107.5. I go in my room and try and throw up in my trash. I make a gagging sound. Afraid to wake anyone, I decide to skip my insulin and fall into a restless sleep. I wake up at 4:00am completely nauseated. I put on my slippers, grab a towel, and head to the backyard. I jam three fingers down my throat and punch myself in the stomach. A wave of chips and dip come up. Thick puke spews out of me like there is no future for any of us. With each wave of vomit I begin to feel better. My stomach deflates back to its normal size. The pile of puke is the thickest and biggest I have ever seen. I walk back into the house. I drink a liter of soda and weigh myself. 96.5. Not bad. I crawl back in bed, exhausted. "I will fast tomorrow" I tell myself... Yea right. Binge city the moment I wake up. I have no control. Bulimia will be the death of me.
7:47 p.m. - 2003-03-08 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------- |
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