Venturing Adventure

The stars stretch northward from my gaze as I lay on my back beneath them. Consumed by their expanse on this straggling last day of summer the green metal bench is only slightly chilled under my back. To the south are the frilly borders of the slowly burning treetops that build the natural wall between the fresh air park and the highway. East of me is the Inst Center, home sweet home at the moment, and wast is the top of the tall wire fence surrounding the yard. The others are still strolling slowly, pacing the perimeter, but I feel like I have walked enough today. Its finally a time that I can kick off from all the bustle and open up to reflection. I am here, now, and this is what I see. With so much going on its rare to get a clear view in the city.

Its been a long day but a good one. Abound with adventure things didn’t entirely pan out as I had expected but the time had was no less exciting and new. To start there was the very first makeshift art therapy group. If you go by the true bare bones definitive it was actually more of a themed art collective since I had to leave before any therapy really came into play. The project I had come up with involved glue, large heavy paper, scissors, and the immense amount of old magazines we have piling up everywhere. Because of the scissors we had to request the watchful eye of a staff member but Victoria was happy to do it. The instructions were self-interpretive and basically called for the creation of words and pictures to create a self-portrait.

Not everyone on the unit participated but the six who did later reflected on how much they enjoyed it. I had to leave at 11:00 to begin the day’s pass outing but they were all still working diligently even as I stepped out the door. I would have liked to look at everyone’s creations in the end but it just didn’t happen this morning. Actually, that sort of brings up a wall for me. O one hand I would love to hear how people would interpret their self-portraits but, on the other, even though I was asked to lead this group, I don’t want anyone to feel like I am overstepping my bounds by acting like a teacher. I don’t want to be resented. All in all though I have been told by each who attended that it was an enjoyable success. I have been assigned to head up the same alloted time with a new project next week.

As the morning wore on our pre-lunch departure time gained bearing. First things first, upon leaving the building Benji, Amy, and I happily pardoned the Starbucks that had successfully positioned itself kitty corner to the subway entrance. As good as Starbucks coffee is though I am truly seeing its money-consuming potential. I will have to remember to ask Molly which sidewalk cart she frequents in the mornings. Apparently, whatever shes getting as her coffee fix is just as good, if not better, than Starbucks and its only costs the same $.75 as it does in our regular 6th floor cafe.

After we had armed ourselves with caffeine and ice water the three of us trek towards the underground. The subway station’s lower platform has the heat of a snake pit but we are lucky. The train that is meant to carry us to the Washington Square Park Soho area of Manhattan pulls within a minute of our descent into the dank. We board the A-train express and begin to 40 minute bullet shot to the day’s unfolding agenda.

I’ll Pass

Its another weekend and I am so close to getting 4a and passes I can practically taste it. What happens is that you have to hit your 90% two times, for me that would be Monday and Wednesday, and then at team meeting on Thursday I will get the official “go ahead”. I already have this coming weekend booked as far as places I want to go and I can barely contain the anxious excitement that makes me jittery at the thought of exploring. The city is laid out before me and all I have left is the green light of health.

The deal with passes is that you write one out on a formatted sheet of paper and drop it in the request box so the staff can review it at one of the 2 team meetings held during the week. The yellow sheet of paper that gets filled out is very specific, especially when it comes to eating meals out. You have to not only be exact about what you are going to go do while out but also how you will get there. They need specific departure and return times and, most importantly, where we plan on eating. All passes span across the time of at least one of the daily meals and sometimes, at the end, two meals  and/or an overnight out. Many people live or have family in the area and the “practice” of returning home can be very beneficial.

The most important part of a written pass is the part of the meal. On the unit we have a thick alphabetized binder of menus from around the city. For a pass we not only have to write down where we are eating but also what we plan on ordering down to drinks and sauces used. Beyond that we even have to write down a backup plan in case what we want to order isn’t available. One of the biggest inspections a pass gets in the review process is Sally, the unit’s dietitian, approving of our meal construction. As of late I have been perusing the menus and just jotting down some combinations that work, trying to model a plate of food out based off the components that come on our tray here. Tomorrow I will be going over my choices with Sally because she actually won’t be here for my first 2 weeks on passes.

I can feel the excitement for this taste of newly acquired recovery strength building as I write. My plans for this coming Saturday start off around 1 pm. Just after lunch on the unit I’ll be off to navigate the subway down to Sullivan Street where I have a 2:00 hair appointment scheduled at Mudhoney. Heather recommended the place and, after checking it out online, it looks like its right up my alley. After that is a bit of window shopping in the area and then dinner and an evening movie with actual movie popcorn. I can only imagine how tired I’ll be returning back by 8 pm for snack.

Then, on Sunday, is the Bust magazine Renegade craft fair in Queens. Handmade goodies with quirky personality? Yes, please! Count me in! So that day I’ll be eating lunch out and I’m pretty sure I will be joined by Benji and Amy.

At this point I’ve got my fingers and toes crossed that everything goes smoothly. If all of it pans out it will be just what I have been waiting for.

Moving on to the next step!

Oh, the Days

I don’t know. Maybe its just one of “those” days, whatever that means. Its a Sunday evening, after dinner, and all is quiet around the unit. We tried for our fresh air break, trekking down to the second floor all bundled in sweaters and hoodies, but it was raining harder outside than what could be determined from the fourth floor window. Opening the heavy double-doored portal to the park our small group was thoroughly chilled by a gust of moisture-permiated cold air. We schlepped back upstairs. So now everyone is doing their own thing as we wait out the remainder of CO. Its pretty astounding actually, and almost a little eerie. It hasn’t been this quiet around here since the rash of new arrivals; back when so many were getting ready to leave and constantly out on passes.

I can hear the staff on duty laughing in one of the back rooms. In half spanish and half english its hard to decipher whats so funny but, at least from what I can gather, its got to do with something on the computer. For however subdued things might seem at the moment though, this morning was the opposite. 10 a.m. and we were promptly out the door. It was 6 of us on level 3 or above, Cora and Jonathan for staff escort, and Brynn who was only on level 2 but had special permission to attend.

Actually, the trip itself was of Brynn’s making. There wasn’t much time so it was more of a speed-shopping trip than anything else but it was all her idea. I was initially surprised because usually the staff doesn’t go out of their written boundaries to grant this sort of thing often. They really try to stay consistent with the rules and privileges that come with level changes so there is no foothold for pointed discrepancies. It was very apparent that Brynn, who only had enough to wear countable on one hand, needed clothes. Because of this Target became the destination of choice and we all hopped on the one train heading northwest.

Although we had to be back by lunch I would say the trip was very successful. Not one of us, including the staff, came back empty-handed and everyone seemed to be in an outwardly good mood on the way home. I don’t know what this new obscure silence is about but it can only last so long. The overall moods of the unit at any one time seem to roll in and out like the tide so I know this will be over eventually. Until then I think I’ll just make the most of the rare peace and quiet.

100% backfire (part II)

The general consensus the group had of the NBC tour itself was that it didn’t lack in room for improvement. At only an hour and 15 minutes in total length it seemed on one hand to be rushed but on the other hand lacking in anything beyond mildly interesting. When we walked into the bottom floor of the skyscraper for our time slotted tour the room we entered would turn out to be the most colorful and eye-catching that we would see that day. It was the over-priced gift shop. After passing through without hesitation we climbed a short spiral staircase whose bordering wall was checkerboarded with screens airing Saturday Night Live skits. Even with no sound the image of Will Farrell in a blond bob wig proved somehow to be just as humorous as it played in view no matter which way you turned your head.

After that we got in line. It was a tight cramped line that seemed to get hotter under the low ceiling lamps by the minute as we waited for just about a half hour. In the meantime we were given clear plastic pass-pockets that went around our necks and held our tour tickets. On one side of the skinny hallway was a wall of glossy photos framed and sporting different celebrities and their signatures, most of whom I didn’t recognize. On the opposite wall glass cases flaunted just a small portion of the NBC memorabilia that was positioned throughout the building.

Eventually the tour got underway and we were led into a small theater for a viewing of “NBC Studios – A Brief History” that lasted about 20 minutes. Subsequently we were subjected to the bizarrely spastic greetings from the two studio interns leading the tour. after embarking on our journey into the depths of the building the 25 of us were piled in and out of the elevators as we saw an empty news studio, the studio that was home to Jimmy Kimmell’s late night show, and a collapsible studio for on of NBC’s sports shows. All of these were fairly dark and none were in use at the time of our appearance so it was described to us what might have been playing on the many TV screens had people actually been at work.

The rest of the time was spent wandering around and looking at various NBC artifacts and memorabilia. There was the varying progression of the peacock logo, a video demo of the SNL make-up team hard at work, and a mock news and weather report involving volunteers from our group. Then, all of a sudden, the tour was over and we were being asked for our plastic necklaces back. The getting off the unit part of it had been fun but, with my disintegrating mood and the lackluster activity, I found myself wishing I had stayed back that day. NBC was an experience and thats really all I can say about that.

We wound up leaving the studio about an hour ahead of schedule. Four of our group split from us to head off around the city for wherever their various dinner passes were to take them and the rest of us meandered our way back to the subway station. With some time to kill Talia spontaneously took us into a Starbucks along the way to get drinks and relax a little. I stood next to her in line, wallowing in the still undiluted emotions of earlier, when I suddenly had an idea. Turning to Talia I told her that I had been completely beating myself up for the issue with the sandwich. We talked for a minute about how proud I had been of myself for constantly doing 100%. She said she had been too and I ultimately wound up posing a question.

I asked Talia if there was any way I could make up for the uneaten peanut butter and jelly. To my surprise, and extreme thankfulness, she said “yes”. After some deliberation I wound up with a hummus snack plate involving a pita, hummus dip, chicken, and some miscellaneous veggies. Almost as though trying to do it before Talia changed her mind I gobbled up the over-priced mini meal. Talia and the others finished their coffees and sodas and we left to catch the train.

I know talking to Talia and coming up with an alternate plan was the right thing to do. Almost instantly after taking the last bite of pita I felt 10 times better. It was like i was allowed to feel pride in myself again. I felt, in a way, redeemed. Looking back on the whole thing now I can clearly see the challenge in it and am happy with how I handled the situation in the end. I’m not looking forward to more issues like that one but, at least, now I feel more confident in knowing what I will need to do.

100% backfire

There was jelly, peanut butter, humus, and chicken, 2 slices of wheat bread, a pita pocket, sun chips, melon, 2 juices, and 4 chocolate chip cookies. All of this was what my haphazard conglomeration of a lunch consisted of as it spanned the course of the afternoon. It had not been planned that way by any means. The make-up of the chaotic mess was fueled by circumstance and unforseen events but proved, in the end, to just reinforce my idea that everything happens for a reason. Now that I am back, safe and comfortable, at my pseudo “home”, I can safely look back on the whole event and consider it a challenge rather than a setback. I will explain…

Today was the day of the NBC studio tour. We set off for the subway at 11:30 and rode the express train to Rockefeller Center. This time our group consisted of eight patients and two staff members. The one with the plan, the directions, the agenda and the hook-up at NBC was Talia and, when we deboarded the train she led us through the acclaimed plaza.

We had our bag lunches with us and the idea had been that we would find a food court or a lobby with some tables to eat at before we had to be at NBC at 1 pm. The only problem was that there weren’t any areas to sit in that didn’t belong to specific restaurants. The train had dropped us off at the time we should have been starting lunch and, by the time we realized we were wandering in circles and actually found a place to settle down, we only had about 15 minutes to eat. Rockefeller Center is a pretty clean place, for being in the middle of the city, and I would have happily made myself comfortable for lunch sitting on the stone mosaic off to the side.

One of my big issues, along with keeping a schedule, is not having to stuff my face because I’m trying to eat in a hurry. Each lunch bag contained the PB & J sandwich, a bowl of cut melon, the 4 cookies, 2 juices, and bag of sun chips. Its quite a bit to eat in the time we were left with and, for the first time since my arrival at Columbia, I went into the meal with an obstinately bad mood. My anxiety was already heightened by starting the meal late and the confusion about where to eat only added to that. I live by a schedule which is part of how the eating disorder took hold in the first place. Now, I know I am going to have to challenge that rigidness and need for construction, but I just wasn’t ready for what today’s winds blew my way.

I wound up eating sulkily, quietly stewing in my anxiety-ridden annoyance, until Talia declared it time to go. I just left what I didn’t get to in the bag. Talia said I could finish as we walked but my frustration and anger with the situation superseded rationality as I handed her the lunch bag with a firm “no”. As soon as we started making our way to the studio my anger flipped, though, and directed itself at me and my own actions. For the very first time I had not done 100% eating my meal. That status I was so proud of had been broken in just a few minutes time and for that I was furious. The entire time on the rather short NBC tour was spent beneath a fog of failure. I knew I could have done better if I had only tried harder and my mind seemed to not want to let my heart live that fact down.

(I swear this has a happy ending…to be continued…)

Weathering Passes

It looks like rain outside today, even though they aren’t calling for it until tomorrow, but the weather is nice with the gray layer of cloud cover. There is supposed to be a high of 80 but, with the light breeze rolling off the Hudson River, it feels more like a perfectly comfortable low 70’s sort of day. Its quiet around here again with all those eligible out on passes as much as they can be in the weekend down-time.

Passes are something you can request when you have reached the 90% mark of your personal ideal body weight. They come with moving up to level 4 and each one has to be specifically written out and approved. The request form includes the times of departure and return, exactly where in the city you’ll be going, how you’ll get there, and a basic play-by-play of what you’ll be doing. Generally on a pass you will eat one or two meals while out and this is where the bulging, over-stuffed, menu folder for the until comes in handy. It is required that you write down each item that you plan to order for your meal along with a backup plan in case the restaurant of choice is out of something. Unforseen snags in this method of recovery practice are always possible but the staff works with those going out to prepare as best they can for anything from the realm of the unknown.

Much of going out on passes involves the honor system. Thats why frequently patients, who don’t fully trust themselves to make the right decisions when the moment arrives, go on passes in pairs. The company is nice and you also have that unspoken safety net of someone being able to hold you accountable for your actions. Elle and Benji left only a few minutes ago to embark on just such a pass. neither of them are from Ney York and have no family in the area so the choice is to either brave the city alone or try and hack it as a duo. Today’s afternoon agenda for them includes a few hours spent at the Natural History Museum, with a strict exhibit schedule due to it’s vastness, and then dinner on the town.

Elle has been doing passes for about 2 weeks and Benji just a few days. In the beginning the outings are done a few times one-on-one with a staff member for a sort of practice and this can be just about anyone of the patient’s choosing. Both Elle and Benji went to breakfast with their personal therapists in the past week and came beck from the challenges with a noticeable amount of gained confidence. I have thought about it a little, as to who on staff I might like to go eat with, and the Griz is looking like a good candidate as well as either Talia or Gina.

It will be a while still though before I have to make a decision on that since I still have at least 15 pounds to go before I reach my 90%. I hope that when the time comes for me to try making my way around the city with some of my fellow patients there are still some left on the unit to join me. At the rate the exit door is revolving compared to the spider webs collecting on the admittance entrance I may well be left to make due on my own. Whatever happens though I know it will be an adventure!

The weight of progression

I am sitting in the dimly lit dining room where the tables have been pushed against the wall and yoga mats laid around the floor. Stress and coping group is rolling right along as the Friday afternoon sun leaks in through the slatted blinds. We do different things each week in this group but it’s mostly meditation and guided imagery oriented. If we aren’t into that sort of thing we have the option to read, journal, or do something else deemed suitably soothing quietly while the meditation tape plays in the background.

Elle is asleep with her Star Trek novel open in her lap on the couch next to me and I look up from my writing as her breathing becomes audible. On the other side of her, in a chair, Benji struggles to keep the comic book he’s reading from falling to the floor as his own eyes threaten to give in to the atmosphere of this makeshift sanctuary. The others lay on the mats more or less following the direction of the recorded voice that urges calming exercises between interludes of piano music and nature sounds. If proposed, I’d definitely place a wager that more than one of them is asleep as well.

Its one of the more stressful days due to some clashes between patients and staff earlier and the weekend weights taken this morning. The rule is that, once each of us enters the official weight gain phase of treatment, we have to gain a minimum of 3/4 of a pound each time the numbers are taken. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are the stressful days as, at 6:30 am on the dot, we line up outside the exam room for the scale’s verdict. These days it’s a difficult balance that shakes everyone’s ease. It’s hard for most to watch the scale go up no matter what the amount is but, at the same time, we want that 3/4 difference because if we don’t make it we will be RTU until the next weights check.

RTU stands for “Restricted To Unit” and basically means that we are confined here no matter what our status level is. For me that would mean no fresh air breaks, which I value pretty darn highly due to it being the only outdoors life I have right now. For Elle, who is on level 3, to be RTU would mean the loss not only of fresh air breaks but also of any other outside privilege. At level 3 we have the eligibility to go on staff-accompanied outings to places outside the building. sometimes its to the store down the street for supplies. Sometimes its a trip out to eat with one of the staff members for practice. Then, occasionally, its doing something that involves delving deeper into the city like going clothes shopping or getting a haircut.

To have that freedom and then lose it, for any amount of time, can be a depression-inducing blow. RTU is meant to limit the amount of physical activity a person does so they can gain the intended amount of weight by the next official day. However, these days can be mood lowering on the other hand too because a lot of girls here are still terrified of the scale moving at all. They may be eating more but they are still giving their eating disorder sanctuary in their back pockets and letting it have its way from there.

Regardless of the confusion and sense of upheaval most of us feel regarding the weights vs. RTU issue, I believe they have a really good system here. They know what they are doing, as far as the program structure goes, and what a lot of it comes down to is acceptance. There is no other choice beyond that of accepting your body, accepting the weight gain, and accepting that you will have to live with your new self for at least 4 weeks once you are in the weight maintainance phase and doing a bulk of the research participation. I don’t know the exact numbers but, from what I’ve heard, Columbia has a higher long-term success rate than many other in-patient programs, and that’s some news I can definitely accept.