For two days, I tried to eat anything and everything…
…desperate for something that didn’t make me feel like crap.
Everything I ingested had the same result. It satisfied me temporarily…
…but eventually hit my stomach like a diesel truck.
Then I was hungry all over again.
I was getting scared, so I went to see my friend, Lizzie, at the clinic. The receptionist, Gemma, greeted me with the usual cheerfulness as soon as I walked in…
I’d been coming to the clinic for a while and I was usually pretty friendly with the staff, but today I just wanted to be seen by Lizzie and find out what was wrong with me. I had no desire to engage in small talk.
She wasn’t about to completely give up though…she insisted on trying to chat me up while searching for my appointment in the computer.
I interrupted in a tone that showed every bit of my impatience…
I could tell that Gemma was completely thrown off. She was used to me being bubbly and outgoing. I knew I was in the wrong and I felt bad, but something in me wouldn’t even let me apologize. It all made seeing Lizzie that much more urgent. I needed her to tell me what the hell was wrong with me.
Completely rattled…with her hands trembling, Gemma put all of her efforts into searching for my appointment. Finally, she said what I was waiting to hear…
“You can just-”
I hated myself for the way I was acting, but I felt helpless to fix it. To avoid even looking at Gemma, I focused on the TV instead.
Normally, I could just tell Gemma and she’d happily change the channel to something more preferable. But after the way I just behaved…I’m sure I ruined any friendly feelings she once had for me.
Sitting there watching the people on TV prepare 5-star restaurant caliber salads, delectable seafood dishes with only the freshest ingredients, and desserts with ingredients so rare that they bordered on being delicacies was too much for me. I’d never been so hungry in my life. I turned away…praying that the nurse would hurry up and call me to go to the back.
The doors finally opened and an unfamiliar face stepped out into the waiting room. Apparently, Lizzie had a new nurse.
“Vahlah Die-aal-lo…c’mon back.”
I followed the nurse through the doors…avoiding even glancing Gemma’s way as I passed.
I could easily imagine what was going through her mind that day. I could almost hear all of the ‘bitches’ she was calling me in her head. Surely she figured that I had lost it. Hell, I was thinking the same thing myself.
The nurse introduced himself as Bernie. He took my weight and checked my blood pressure. According to him…it was all normal. He led me to an examination room and told me to have a seat. Then he asked me a few additional questions about my symptoms.
I told him about the hunger and intense nausea and pain that followed. He wrote it down in my chart, then turned to leave.
Nurse Bernie left me alone. I sat there in the examination room thinking about all the things that could possibly be wrong with me…
And worse yet…all the ways that I could possibly be dying. Not surprisingly…starvation was at the top of my mental list of 100 ways to die.
