We Interrupt This Program…

…for a couple of random updates and thoughts: – First and foremost, the surgical procedure was short and simple, and now my ankle has no choice but to heal. The doctor put me in a hard cast this time so that there would be less chance for reinfection. So now I’m once again hopping about on crutches, but hopefully for the last time. – The allergic reaction also appears to have calmed down. It still hurts to run my skin under hot water, but I ate grapes without dying, so I suppose that’s a good sign. – Most importantly, I am absolutely flabbergasted by the response to my blog. It’s funny: when I started writing a few months ago, I was just planning to share this new way of eating and living that had helped start to free me from my ED, and it’s become so much more. As I started to explain why I first ate red meat after 13 years, I fell down the rabbit hole that was my introduction to ED, and in the process, was forced to face some of my hardest truths–truths from which I’d hidden for a very long time. And that inspired me to go out and seek help. But nothing has helped so much as your support, and your willingness to share your own stories. And I can only hope that, as I get through my story and start sharing solutions, that you will continue to share your stories with me. I can only hope that this blog becomes a place for recovery–not just for myself, but for all of you...

A Spiritual Bucket List

I’m going in for a minor surgical procedure in a few hours (and let’s hope this is the last one), and I’m feeling reflective. I’m scared to go back to the doctor, but I know that this is the last time I will have to deal with this. I’m looking at this whole year-plus long ankle debacle as a message from the universe: I’ve spent the last 10 years fighting for control over my body, and I’m finally coming to realize that it’s not mine to control. I assumed that I had the right to do whatever I wanted to it, but it turns out that I’m lucky to have been given permission to use it as I have. And, like a rowdy, disrespectful hotel guest, I’m responsible for any damages that I leave behind. Looking down at my mottled and swollen skin (by-products of the past week’s allergic reaction), my atrophied calf, my bruised and scarred ankle…I’m realizing that I have no choice but to accept the body that I’m living in and to use it only to make a better life for myself. I read an amazing quote in Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters by Courtney Martin, one that I’m making my mantra: “I will meet my body where it is.” In order to do that, though, I have to grow. I have to come to terms with the “me” who is not my body. It’s scary, uncharted grown up territory, but it’s time: I’m approaching 26, which always seemed like such a foreign, grown up land to the younger and more naive me, but here it is–and I’ve made it here...

A Brief Update

For those of you who were concerned and/or wondering why I fell off the planet for two days, I wanted to give you a brief update: You know how doctors always ask you if you are allergic to any medications? Well, I’ve never had the occasion to answer in the affirmative. Until now. The problem with medical allergies is that you usually don’t find out you’re allergic until you end up in the hospital. So, I was supposed to have a brief procedure on my right ankle due to a post-op infection on Thursday (tomorrow). I’ve been on antibiotics for a similar infection twice in the last year, so instead of going with the recommended Keflex antibiotic, the doc prescribed Bactrim (since there’s a chance of the bacteria having built up a resistance to the Keflex). Bactrim is a sulfa drug. And, apparently, I am allergic to sulfa drugs. Here’s how I found out: I had been taking Bactrim for 5 of the prescribed 10 days when I noticed a couple of hives on my leg. I saw the doctor the next day for a regularly scheduled checkup, but the hives had already gone away. The doc said not to worry about it. So I didn’t. On day 10 (now 4 days ago), I woke up at 6:30 in the morning with what looked like maybe a spider bite on my right elbow. Within an hour, we determined that said spider bite was the first of many hives that would crawl up my right (and soon left) arm. The hives got progressively worse through Sunday, spreading to my legs and feet....

New Challenges

Despite the heat of the dog days, August ushered in a much more tolerable end to an intolerable summer. Although my ankle was still sore, my relationship with my body was still impaired, and I had not yet gotten a promotion, the stars started to align for healing in all of these areas. Or so it seemed, anyway. In August I was asked to co-facilitate my first new hire training seminar. I had, in the past, been invited to mentor new hires, but I had never been able to directly influence their learning (and their induction to the kool-aid culture) as I would facilitating. It was a huge honor–made grander by the fact that I was asked to facilitate by my mentor. If he had the confidence in me to handle such a huge responsibility, then I knew I could muster the confidence in myself. I was beside myself with excitement, especially because I really do love that company, and I was getting paid to spend three days doing nothing but sharing that love with others. It was pretty much a win-win. The seminar itself was a smashing success. No, I wasn’t perfect–and yes, I still had a lot to learn as a facilitator. However: what I did learn–about facilitation, about myself, about learning styles, and the like–was hugely important to me, and I was happy to use my mistakes as an opportunity to grow. I was ready to grow. I needed to grow. The summer had been, if anything, a chance for me to start seeing how the seeds of ED had been sown among the seeds of...