Yes, OK. The title is deliberately tantalising, triggering, deceptive or whatever you want to call it. I haven’t lost two dress sizes in 10 days, though what I have lost is becoming significantly harder to hide.
I had another appointment at the GP yesterday. My first visit did not reveal certain behaviours that I thought might be important for the referral to Therapist on Thursday, so in a guilt-ridden fit of truthfulness, I returned to GP to update referral with purging and the possibility that it may, at times, include b.l.o.o.d.
GP of course then wanted to refer me to gastroenterologist for check-up. Would you go? She asked. No. I said. Not right now. Of course, if you have a normal brain, vomiting blood is probably something you’d want checked out. My fear? That gastro doc would say all is fine, you’ve done minimal or no damage. Have a nice day! Wonderful, you think, but instead, my brain would hiss. Ssssseeeee? You have no reassssson to sssssstop. No. Better for now to remain slightly freaked out and hope it is enough to curb or reduce said behaviour.
I left with my newly amended referral and felt very smug as I trotted out to reception, gleeful that I’d gotten away without the worst part of the appointment, the weigh-in. As I was standing at the desk waiting to sign out, the receptionist said “Could you please go back in? The doctor would like to see you again.”
I knocked hesitantly on the door and she said “Yes, please come back in. I forgot to weigh you.” Erk. I stepped on the scales, already knowing what they would say. That’s a lot of weight for four weeks, she said. I just nodded, thinking “It’s not really. I’ve been known to lose more.” 7kgs, 15 and a bit pounds or just over 1 stone, depending on your preferred method of measurement. Not quite two dress sizes, I suppose, but getting close.
I am still in the normal range though (barely), so she just nodded, and said Uh-huh. That is all.
And I left.