I’m so glad to finally be home. I had to stay longer than normal because I was really dehydrated and they wanted to give me extra fluids.
I was still quite nauseous when I left, so the nurse gave me extra vomit bags.
He called them “vomit dream catchers”. Tasty…
I still feel really sick, though considerably less dizzy. My goal for tonight is to drink water and not take more laxatives.
My doctor was really mad that the eating disorder center keeps pushing my admission date back. (Oh, yeah, I haven’t told you about that yet. I’m not starting PHP next week.) She called them, but the person I’ve been dealing with had already left for the day, so she left her a message saying that I need to be admitted as soon as possible and that she was sending me to the ER again and that they need to call her and explain what’s going on.
I love my doctor.
Ok, I’m going to bed now. Goodnight!
I got up today, did my two-hour workout, came out to the living area, and had a sudden realization: I haven’t taken my medications in at least a week! Crap.
I looked around for them (I keep them all together in a drawstring bag) and couldn’t find them. “Fine,” I thought, “I’ll at least take my diet pills.” The diet pills were sitting on the shelf by the sofa, I noticed. I grabbed them and downed several.
Then, I immediately ate a couple bowls of cereal, which I purged. Which means I purged (and wasted) those diet pills.
This is exactly why I never take my meds. I never seem to find a time where I can take them and keep them down.
So yeah, now my precious diet pills are in the sewer system and my stomach hurts from purging and I’m nauseous from the excessive amount of laxatives I took after purging, and now I’m going to go eat something else. >_<
I keep repeating to myself, “Just one more week, just one more week.”
It’s not exactly a week, it’s more like a week and a half, but that just sounds like too long. So I keep telling myself just to hang on for a week. I can do a week. I can do it.