She was only 32 years old and one of the characters from my story. The daughter of a famous cardiac surgeon. God, such morose irony. She started restricting when she was only 7! So much pressure. Too much for her to handle. A brilliant girl - an honors student, member of MENSA, champion show horse jumper and the mother of a beautiful 8 year old boy. The light of her life.
And what a sense of humor. She had me and all of us there in constant stitches. We fed off each other's energy. Laughing, crying, hugging. We were in the facility together for both our children's first day of school. We were filled with guilt and shame and shed many regretful tears together that day. We learned how to knit together. I even went out on pass and bought big fat knitting needles and beautiful soft, fluffy yarn for us both to learn from another sweet girl. And what fun we had, even there - amidst the dark reality of the present moments shared. We were goofy and smart and sad together - sharing the common thread of a life long disease.
Her story with me started when she had a heart attack and was admitted into the ICU at age 32, 5'6" tall and weighing about 90 lbs. There she remained for 6 days, being tube fed and receiving intravenous packs of potassium before they moved her to the EDU. That's when we met. I was admitted two days after her. And that's we became fast friends. She ran a nightclub in my town (small world, eh) and i manage a band. We shared dreams of future playdates with our kids and girls nights out with cosmos, rock and roll and lots of laughs.
A couple of weeks later, I was getting better though, and she was not. We parted ways, temporarily, when i was discharged from inpatient and moved across the hall during the days to do intensive outpatient. We'd blow kisses and send love in little secret waves through the glass panes of the hospital doors. And a few days later she was transferred to a residential facility where they expected her to remain for several months, healing. I spoke to her the day she was transferring. I told her i was worried about her. She was very depressed and losing her will to live. She was angry and frustrated and ashamed that her eating disorder was out of control. I calmed her and told her it was okay and that she'd find her strength to beat this. She had to, it was not optional.
I didn't know then that it would be our last conversation.
i found out last night that my friend died in a hospital near there 6 days later. Another heart attack - fatal this time. Her mind had been taken by the disease long before her body though. But not her soul...her soul ached so much to be a good Mommy. A good daughter and wife and friend. She was so very generous and nurturing and sweet to everyone but herself. And i find it impossible almost to believe she's gone. Only days ago she told me she loved me on the phone. And even though i knew how very very sick she was, i believed i'd see her again. But i won't. ED took her from us and from her son and her family...her father, the heart surgeon.
This isn't part 2 of my story. This is a tragic reality i am trying to process. i feel empty and devastated and scared and so damn angry. It's really, really beyond fucked up.
H - I hope you found peace my beautiful, sweet sister. our time together may have been short, but it was so colorful and intense and passionate. i shall be sure that you did not die in vain. i promise you that.
Sweet dreams lil one...may flights of angels sing thee to thy rest
xoxoxoxoxoxo
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