The therapists warned us the disorder gets worse before it starts to get better. The last few days have been difficult. Part of the program (which I think I’m repeating) is to get the patient back on an ordered eating schedule so they are not using food as a soother. For me it’s been like having a very tall 6month old who has a feeding schedule but sometimes doesn’t want to eat what you give them. After avoiding much of her meals on Thursday, she continued this on Friday.
Breakfast made her angry because she couldn’t find anything that she wanted to eat, but really it was about not getting a soda. She settled on one “stupid” yogurt because the “stupid” program won’t let her have soda. For her snack she had a couple graham crackers. When I dropped her off I made sure they knew she was having a rough time. For dinner, I thought it’d be nice if we went up to eat with Natasha as a family. Hmmm. For some reason this brought out the worst in everyone. I wasn’t the driver, but the driver felt the need to get us there in record time, with it being rush hour, and making sure everyone in the car knew how they felt about the other drivers.
We arrived with 1/2 hour to spare. Seemed a nice day to just sit outside and read the paper, so I attempted this. Then the arguing started about texting limits and fat thighs. Seriously?!Everyone got their food and I got Natasha’s tray and set up her meal. She was not thrilled with the grilled chicken sandwich and proceeded to argue with me about the amount of fat on it and how she couldn’t eat it. So she started picking it apart amidst the angry comments. In the meantime one sister is talking about her fat thighs (and I picture myself slapping her, as they do in movies – and then everything makes sense to the person). Another party at our table (whom shall remain nameless) mentions that she just needs to exercise. WOW. But I digress. Back to the chicken fight! After battling for awhile I ask her sister to go get the frozen yogurt for her, something she’s looking forward to. But even that becomes an argument. I’m sure at this point we’ve scared many people:)
Home! I’m exhausted and lie down on the couch and listen to the rest of the fat thighs conversation then hear the elliptical running in the basement. And it’s snack time. I muster up the courage to put on my gloves and get ready for battle, as no one else seems capable of completing this task (I’m a little angry perhaps). Watermelon chunks and graham crackers. Sounds good to me! But she finds a seed in the watermelon. Round 15 has begun. With the graham crackers, she’s found some reason, though i can’t remember, to dislike them and starts rubbing them together to crumble them, a food avoidance technique. If you crumble the crackers you don’t have to eat them, and no one notices, right?
Only three more week to go.