Juggling Life

Eating Disorder Chronicles: College Looming

MidLyfeMama  left the following comment on my Frazzled post. Her comment is one of the reasons I blog this--other people have powerful life experiences they are willing to share. That helps.

You really do have a lot going on! I need to express a concern that is formed only from what I read here, and not from actually living your life and being involved with SB on a day to day basis so I acknowledge that I am working with limited information. That being said, I have been working with college students for over 20 years now, and I know the challenges that going to college presents to students even under the most ideal circumstances, but I have been witness to the particular challenges faced by students with eating disorders. Some students respond very well to the independence and newly found control they have at college, others spiral right back into old habits and end up in a very bad place with regard to their mental state and ED. One student in particular I found heart breaking. She ended up taking a leave twice over the span of two years to go back into treatment and ultimately withdrew because she simply could not manage college and dealing with her ED at the same time. My concern with SB is that there is this pressure to achieve her goal weight and make progress in time to go to college and that the launch into her college life will come so soon after getting a handle on her ED. I am sure it is something you are talking about, but I needed to say it. I am amazed at both her strength and fortitude but also yours.

Social Butterfly going to college in late August is important to her and her doing so is a communal goal for her, for us and for her treatment team. That said, the only way she is going to leave home for college is to be fully healthy and to have a treatment plan in place in Flagstaff.

Weight restore in the next few weeks, demonstrate an ability to maintain weight, and work toward making solid choices about eating and exercise independently--that's my definition of healthy. Then we need to find a therapist in Flagstaff as well as well as communicate with the student health center for weekly weigh-ins. All of the above is Plan A.

You know me though, and I would never just have a Plan A. Plan B, if the pieces of Plan A are not all in place, is a deferral for a semester or even a year. I would not consider this a failure in any way, just a responsible way to ensure SB has the positive college experience she wants.

I am always about the endgame. The endgame is for SB to be a happy, healthy successful adult able to negotiate life's challenge positively. Whether or not that happens on an arbitrary timeline is not a priority for me.

Thanks for asking and for your input, MidLyfeMama.

 

 

White Privilege Means Not Having to Worry about Someone Shooting your Son for WWB*

There is a common misconception that eating disorders are the providence of upper middle-class white girls. Do you know why that is?

 

Because the sad truth is that, by and large, upper middle-class white girls are the ones that get treatment.

 

Yes, white privilege (and socioeconomic) privilege is alive and well in America.

 

White privilege is in the forefront of my mind as I agonize over the horrifying death of Trayvon Martin. If you want to hear an excellent recap of the incident, this audio recording from Blacking It Up is really worth listening to. It's long, but I listened to it while commuting.

Thanks to Christina for linking it on her Facebook page; she also has a great post up on her blog.

I've written about this before, but whenever another mother suggests to me that we live in a post-racial America or that racism doesn't exist, I always ask, "What did you teach your son to do when being pulled over by the police?"

Like me, most mothers tell their sons to be polite and cooperate with the police officer. We also presume that if they are pulled over it will be due to them violating some law. I've not met a suburban, white mother yet who truly fears that her son will be shot by the police during a routine traffic stop.

I've yet to meet a black mother who doesn't have an entirely different set of edicts for a son who is pulled over by the police. Black boys are taught never to reach for their wallet or registration until the officer is already at the window and has full view of their hands. They must ask permission for every move they make or risk being killed--and even then, it could still happen.

Don't even think about asking, "What have I done, officer?" if you are a young black man. Being beyond polite is a matter of life and death.

What was Trayvon's mother supposed to tell him, though? "Son, don't walk down the street of your own neighborhood, ever. And if you do have to walk down the street and a crazed man starts stalking you, don't run away. You're better off to take your chances with possibly getting beaten or killed by a criminal then you are to run and be shot and killed for sure."

I sure hope nobody says "post-racial America" to me anytime soon. They might just be taking their life in their hands.

 

 

*Walking while black.

 

 

 

Eating Disorder Chronicles: Eating with an Anorexic

A meal with an anorexic is likely not a pleasant experience for either you or the anorexic. They are terrified  of food. After a few days, I'm picking up the lingo. There are "safe" foods. There are "challenge" or "fear" foods. In the program, an anorexic that doesn't clean his/her plate has to Boost, which is to drink an Ensure-like supplement. Boosting regularly will get you a higher level of care.

Social Butterfly's program is 9-3 six days a week, except for Wednesday which is also family therapy from 3-4:30. SB will also see an individual therapist once a week and will be followed by a psychiatrist. They also have a schoolteacher.

Back to my beginning: A meal with an anorexic is likely not a pleasant experience for either you or the anorexic. They are terrified  of food. I am lucky, SB is doing so well in the program eating a variety of foods that I am able to stick with the safer foods. I have left the potato chips and doughnuts to the professionals and I've stuck to a lot of chicken and brown rice, beans, corn tortillas and avocado. She has always loved avocados and they are a healthy source of the fat she needs in her diet. She doesn't love avocados anymore, but she is eating them.

The terror.

Imagine how you would feel if a spider was right in front of you and you couldn't away from it. Really picture what it would look like, what it would feel like (stomach churning?) and how your heart would pound. Imgagine the anxiety building and building unabated until it was terror.

That (from what I can see) is what an anorexic feels like about their food. Treatment means confronting this five to six times a day with three meals and two or more snacks. And the calories! In order to gain weight anorexics need to eat more calories than it would take you or I to gain the same amount of weight, so it's a lot of food. When they say they are stuffed, they are right. I am putting on weight just from eating with her! The nutritionist says that's common.

But we do it, she and I, every day we confront the terror--and guess what? She is getting better already. While the beginning of the week the meals required cajoling, negotiating and threatening--as well as a preternatural calm that is not my default setting--on my end, the last two nights have been pleasant. She's not thrilled to eat the food, but she doesn't have a choice--not if she wants to get better, and she does want to get better.

We have had a great first week, with progress made already. I had not even realized how much her "light" had dimmed until she laughed with abandon tonight and I realize I haven't heard that in too long.

Also? I learned a cool thing in Dialectical Behavior Therapy--it's called "Wise Mind" and I think I'll post about it tomorrow.

 

The Blink of an Eye

It came out of nowhere. It happened in the blink of an eye. I never saw it coming.

Cliches all.

All true.

All things I've thought or said in regard to recent events involving Social Butterfly.

A month ago, in Flagstaff, SB had a Subway sandwich for dinner Friday night and at lunch on Saturday she had a few of the sweet potato fries I'd ordered for the table. Yesterday, when it was suggested she needed to drink Gatorade to combat the recent dehydration that led to her fainting twice and being rehydrated in the E.R. this past Sunday, she cried. And said no.

On Saturday she begins a day treatment program at UCSD Eating Disorders Clinic. SB has given me permission to share our story on this blog; maybe it will help someone else. Over the next few posts I will share more. There's just too much for one post.

I want to start with this though--if, like me, everything you know about eating disorders you learned from a Lifetime TV movie or an ABC Afterschool Special, then you know nothing.

I also want to begin this story by counting my blessings.

• I am grateful that we recognized what was happening early--she will be in treatment just a month after the disorder took hold.
• I am grateful for a pediatrician who is sensible, warm and informed.
• I am grateful for an eating disorder clinic in my own backyard that is so well-respected people come from all over the United States for treatment.
• I am grateful that the probably outcome for patients who receive early intervention is a full and complete recovery without relapse.
• I am grateful that on January 17, 2012 the UCSD Eating Disorder clinic finished negotiating a contract with our insurance provider, Aetna, that makes them in-network and means our copay is $25 per day.
• I am grateful for an employer who said, "Do what you need to do" when I let them know what was happening with my daughter.
• I am grateful to my daughter's employer who agreed to accomodate her schedule even though she hasn't even started working for them yet (Saturday afternoon is her first shift).
• I am grateful that my husband, my daughter and I are all on the same team.
• I am especially grateful for the text from Danger Boy (home on spring break) that suggested I buy some bagel bites to pique her interest in eating. Not going to work, but it was a sweet thought!
• I am grateful that I have a blog friend that knows me and my family so well through this blog that she was moved to point out that all the recent photos of SB's gorgeous baked goods might be a sign of an eating disorder. They are.
• I am grateful that at 5'10 and 122 lbs. SB is thin, on the verge of dangerously so, but is not yet, and will not become, anorexic.*
• I am grateful that we have plenty of time before SB leaves for college in August to ensure that she is healthy when she begins that adventure.

*Somebody rightly asked me to clarify what that means--while she has an eating disorder she does not meet the clinical definition of being an anorexic because of her BMI and that she has not ceased menstruating.

 

 

Unbloggable Exposed: The Wait-and-See

I had an interaction with a co-worker yesterday that seemed to go fine at the time, but boy-howdy did I read that wrong.

Part of the conversation was me trying to place a student for the co-worker. I started with "male." Nothing. I added "tall." Nothing. I added "thinning hair." Still nothing. I added "gay." Still nothing, so I figured it wasn't going to happen and we moved on to another topic.

It may be pertinent to this anecdote that this particular guy is openly-gay and we were talking about his desire to work at a pharmacy that specializes in H.I.V. meds; a perfect niche for him as he is also openly H.I.V. positive. Also? I adore him and I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm swell as well.

Later in the day I was the recipient of an email severely chastising me for speaking about a student in a disrespectful and derogatory fashion. I was very upset for a variety of reasons. One: that someone would think I was anti-gay. Two: the email went to several people. Three: that I was an idiot for having been so tone-deaf that I didn't realize that there are people that might consider the descriptor "gay" to be deragotory.

The outcome of this was that the co-worker and I discussed this incident with our supervisor and we both acknowledged our role in the brouhaha--me for not being more politically correct with someone I didn't know very well and who didn't know me, her for not stopping the conversation and expressing her concern.

It all ended on quite a high note and what had started out as a potentially bad day ended up as a great day.

It turns out PTA politics are not quite same as office politics. Live and learn!

 

 

Turnabout is Fair Play

I was watching The View the other day (I TiVo it and just watch Hot Topics) and Elisabeth Hasselback was up in arms because President Obama had suggested, at the National Prayer Breakfast, that Jesus would support raising taxes on the rich.

Elisabeth was FLABBERGASTED and OUTRAGED that the President would DARE to bring religion into the political realm.

This was the part where I stood in front of the TV in my bedroom, hairbrush in hand, screaming "Are you f****ing KIDDING me?!"

Luckily, I can always count on Joy Behar to be just as outraged as I am. She did not disappoint. For years I have been wondering when the Democrats were going to wise up and quit letting the Republicans have the corner on the God/Jesus angle. In addition, I pretty much agree with him. "For me as a Christian, it also coincides with Jesus's teaching that for unto whom much is given, much shall be required," Obama said, quoting the Gospel of Luke.

If the above didn't have me riled enough, I was listening to NPR the morning after Rick Santorum won all the "beauty pageants" and other primary contests and they played the snippet where he promised that if elected he would "return your freedom to you."

This time I was alone in my car when I screamed "Are you f***ing kidding me?!

Why is it that his idea of freedom is predicated on denying freedoms to others? How does being anti-gay marriage and anti-choice promote freedom? It seems to me (and granted I am using logic and reason in my thought process, so that might be the problem) that the aforementioned are antithetical to freedom.

It's going to be a looooong election year, methinks.

 

What IS Hard?

Like many liberal Democrats I can't tear my eyes away from the Republican nominating race. As much as I would have loved to see Newt be the nominee, it would appear that cooler heads have prevailed and the non-certifiably crazy Mitt Romney will prevail. Why the Republicans chose to pay no-nevermind to the reasonable Jon Huntsman, I do not know.

Back to Mitt . . .

What absolutely drives me nuts about him is that I think he is 100% disconnected from any sort of awareness or knowledge of how many people make their way through their lives.

The "safety net" comment sent me over the edge. I will tell you that the single mom in my class (whose husband left her and their two kids and isn't paying child support) and is having to take loans to finance her education because she doesn't qualify for grants is not feeling the safety net. Neither is the student whose wife's cervical cancer was just diagnosed because she hasn't had a pap smear in the three years since her husband lost his job and insurance. As another student pointed out, "the very fact that we need a safety net shows that we're walking a high wire."

The other thing (besides the above and the dog on the car roof) that chaps my hide is how he goes on and on about how he knows how to work hard. Bullshit. He knows how to work hard at easy work. That is a totally different thing from working hard at hard work. I feel absolutely justified in saying that because it's true of me as well--and probably some of you, too.

The type of work that upper-middle class, or even middle-class, people do and the hours we invest in that work pale in comparison to what so many struggling Americans go through.

My student that gets up at 4 a.m. to use public transportation that gets her to class at 8 am. and then she stays at school until 4 (class is over at 1) because that's the only way she can have computer access and then turns around and spends another 3 hours getting home to her unheated trailer--while getting top grades--that's hard. By the way, she is 50 years old and her old career was as a pilot. She would readily admit that what she thought was hard in her former life wasn't that hard in retrospect.

I'm not going to apologize for the life I have, but I'm also not going to pretend it's HARD work. I believe that is because I have empathy and I can use that empathy and my imagination to gain an idea of what other's lives are like.

I don't want or expect Mitt Romney to apologize for his life, and there are things he's done that are accomplishments of which he can be proud, but working HARD? I don't think so. And I think it would show some empathy if he was aware of that reality.

 

 

 

 

Cute Hair: What does it really mean?

I've been thinking deep thoughts about aging, looks, women and consumerism. Maybe that's what happens when you hit 47 +3/4 years old. Not bad thoughts, just (possibly) profound ones, pondering a variety of related topics. And what's a blog for if you can't share your deep thoughts?! So, consider this the first in a "series."

I really loved reading all the posts attached to Jen's holiday picture challenge and seeing all the women and reading both what they thought about posting their photos and the comments on their posts.

One type of comment I consistently get when I post photos of myself is complimentary in regards to my hair. Now, this is a huge deal for me because I have terrible hair. Thin and fine and mousy brown (dirty blonde when I was a kid) are the kindest things I can say about my god-given hair. (I'm gearing myself up to post a photo of what I would look like if I did NOTHING to my hair--stay tuned.)

Anyway . . .

I actually like my hair, too. When I leave the house in the morning, wearing work clothes and makeup, I feel confident and like I project a professional image.

That confidence comes with a price tag.

The hair cut/color portion of my confidence costs $140 every six weeks (that includes the tip). Gulp. I am sure that some of you will be aghast at the price, while others will find it reasonable. I'm okay with posting the number because just recently my husband became aware of how much I spend on my hair (note, that this number does not include styling products . . . baby steps). For many years he's had a vague idea that my hair stylist wasn't cheap, but he never knew the actual number. Now he does, and we're still married.

There are whole conversations that might be sparked about the fact that I spend so much on my hair--societal pressure around looks, the patriarchal society in which we live, advertising . . . the list goes on.

I will concede that their are outside pressures affecting my need to have cute hair.

However.

I am a pragmatic person and the above pressures are not the battles over which I choose to get my knickers in a twist. If I want to feel confident and have others perceive me in a positive light, especially in the workplace, my hairdressing bill is the price I must pay, so pay it I do.

The connection between the money I spend on my hair (and on my makeup and my teeth and . . . you get the picture) and larger societal issues is that I truly do not believe I would have the job I have, or have gotten the raise I asked for, if I didn't look good(ish).

Really, this is all part of the bootstrap argument I've previously made. Bootstraps come in many forms and those that don't believe that being white and pretty and being able to afford a haircut that makes me feel confident and professional make it easier to accomplish my goals are just not living in the real world.

I am not going to say that cute hair is MORE important than a strong work ethic or intelligence, but I am going to say that it matters.

This post invites conversation on many points (from the important to the ridiculous) and I'd love to hear your thoughts on any or all of them. Am I an idiot for spending so much money on my hair?  Does your significant other know the price tag on your haircut (or clothes or manicures or . . . you get the picture)? ? Do you agree that looks can be an important component in being able to achieve one's goals?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jenn's Contribution to Jen's Photo Post (with a twist)

Jen on the Edge challenged her readers to take photos of themselves over the holidays. It is important to note that she did NOT say "take photos of the rest of the family so that you never have to be in any photos yourself because you're not as thin/young/beautiful as you'd like to be."

Out of the trio of the above excuses (not thin/young/beautiful enough) for remaining behind the lens, rather than in front of it, the "not thin" one is my bugaboo. I really don't mind (so far) getting older and I actually think I'm pretty (enough), but I haven't been as thin as I'd prefer to be since I was 107 lbs. for a couple of months in 1984; I wasn't really eating then, which is not a successful long-term weight management technique, so those days are long gone.

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind though, has always been the knowledge that someday I would want photographic evidence that I was part of my own life--which means I do have plenty of pictures of me with my kids and my friends--not quite as many with my husband because somebody has to hold the camera, but enough.

One thing most of the pictures of me have in common is that they're pretty flattering. A well-placed child can hide quite a bit and since I have four . . .! I tend to exercise a lot of editorial control and with the advent of digital, well, there's really no reason for a "bad" photo to exist.

Back in July of 2008, I wrote this post (which I would love you to click through to read because it is one of my favorites) about photos and vanity. It's about a photo that was a bit of a life-changer for me.

 On to the holiday photo . . .

I didn't take one.

In my defense, I didn't really take any photos at Christmas. My oldest daughter wasn't home and my husband was sick on Christmas day. My home-from-college sons were gone a lot and time just got away from me.

However . . .

This last weekend my Mr. Fix-it, Social Butterfly and I went down to the beach one afternoon and I took my camera. I made sure I was not just on the shooting end of the camera, but in the viewfinder as well.

The result is two of my favorite photos ever, with two of my favorite people.

I wasn't planning on being in front of a camera when I put on yoga pants and a t-shirt in the morning, and I don't really have the type of hair that is improved by being windblown, but I've learned to relax a little on those things.

I think I might be growing up.

 

 

Many hands . . .

Thanksgiving is my family's favorite holiday; maybe it's tied with Christmas, but it's definitely up there. One of the reasons is the food (as detailed in this post). I would put my Thanksgiving dinner up against anyone's for deliciousness of the traditional variety (except I would never do sweet potatoes with the marshmallows on top; this year I did Mark Bittman's Mashed Sweet Potato Brulee-- they were delish [and the oven fire that started when I didn't check the brulee is the stuff of family legend--I scraped it off and tried again; it worked]).

Thanksgiving becomes even more special once the whole family doesn't live in the same house. For us, it is soooooo not about Black Friday. It truly is about togetherness.

The day before Thanksgiving was unusual in that it is the first time I've ever worked the day before the big day and our meal requires a solid day of prep work. Grownup Girl and Grownup Guy were more than up to the task of getting everything going and Social Butterfly and MVP (okay, more SB than MVP) did the bidding of the head chefs.

When you work together, listening to music and talking, a day's full of cooking isn't drudgery, but fun.

Also fun?

The impromptu dinner party we had when a couple of GuGirl's friends from high school came by (one accompanied by a boyfriend and two children) and we served everyone drinks, threw together a dinner for the little ones and reallocated a Thanksgiving pie for dessert. Good times.

I hear so many people women complain about how much work and stress the holidays are and it really saddens me. Everyone in my family helps and that makes all the difference. Some things just aren't meant to be do-it-yourself and I think the holidays belong on the list.

How was your day and who pitched in to make it come together?