"Don't let them do anything to you"

That's the last thing I heard the Rheumatologist say to me as I left his office in tears.  The last thing we talked about was going to see a Neurologist in Edmonton.

The Rheumatologist  looked at my feet, held them, had me point my toes and wiggle them.  Asked about my symptoms with a confused look on my face.  Then started asking about my weight.

I was taken aback.  What would my weight have to do with the spasms in my feet?  I told him about my weight loss history and that this started happening while I was exercising and eating right.  It never happened when I was at my heaviest and eating the worst.  I told him I had gained weight since I had my son, but it had only been a few months since I had him.  He continued on about how I should eat right and exercise and perhaps swimming would be good for me.  "But don't worry about what others think about you in a swim suit."  He said.  He went on and on about how I need to eat right and exercise. It was so condescending, it was like he was angry at me for not losing weight immediately after birth.

I couldn't even respond I was confused.  Why was he saying this?  I had body issues, but I never mentioned them to him.  Why is he commenting on my looks?  Why is he talking about my weight?  Isn't it reasonable that I have gained weight and haven't lost it all just a few months after I had given birth?  Especially considering I can't exercise while my feet are spasming.

He continued on in a condescending tone. "Of course" I could exercise he had said.  He looked flabbergasted when I told him it was difficult.  It was like he was saying "well duh, of course you can! You fat lout."

I tried smiling and agreeing with him and I said, "I guess I'm just always so anxious, I'm scared to exercise."

"I don't care." he retorted.

I quit listening.  My brain was reeling, was I being fat shamed? Because I sure felt ashamed.  I felt stupid that I couldn't lose weight just a short time after giving birth and while I was house bound.  He told me he didn't care, that asshole!

"There's nothing wrong with you."  He said with a sour expression.  I nodded and tried to smile, holding back tears.  This man was condescending and didn't believe a word I said.

"I'm from Africa, wintertime is cold for me too.  I just wear two pairs of socks."  I started to ignore him again, but instead he stood up, shook my hand and said good luck at the Neurologist.  "Don't let them do anything to you."  He turned around and said to me as he was leaving the office.  He said it like an after thought.

I left his office with tears falling down my face.  Another doctor didn't believe me.  Maybe I was being stupid.  Maybe it was all in my head, these spasms.  I must be overreacting.  Not a single doctor, specialist or test had shown anything.  Not even a hint of anything.

In the weeks after this appointment I had so much doubt.  I could feel the spasms come, but maybe it was just in my head? Maybe I just need to "calm down."  That had been suggested to me over and over again.  I had told a loved one about what the Rheumatologist said and they hinted that he was right.  Maybe it was in my head?  Nobody believes me.  Nobody.

A few months later Dan and I traveled to Edmonton to see the Neurologist.  This time I asked Dan to be in the room with me.  I  needed emotional support, and someone to defend me.

This time the appointment seemed to happen around me.  The Neurologist talked to Dan almost more than me.  Asking Dan questions about my body.  Was this happening again?  Was the doctor seeing if Dan believed me?  Or was the doctor asking Dan because he was a man?  The majority of the appointment Dan received the doctors attention, it was bizarre.  But for the first time, a doctor believed what was happening was real and not in my head.  Was this because Dan was there?

"Don't let them do anything to you."  Kept ringing through my head the entire appointment.  I knew they where going to do nerve tests, but I didn't know what exactly.

First I had to put on a gown and lay on my side on the table while the Neurologist slid long thin needles with wires attatched into the muscles in my legs and feet. He would pick a muscle and slide the needle in and wiggle it around.  The machine he was using was making a staticky noise.  He would then ask me to move my leg and flex the muscle.  The static coming from the machine would get noisier the more I moved the muscle, then it would be quiet when I lay still.  It was painful and uncomfortable.  Then he used the needles in my left leg and the pain was almost crippling.  He would slide the needle into my calf and ask me to bring my toes up but I was scared to.  It hurt and it felt like it was going to cramp.  The noises coming from the machine where much different than from the other leg.  There was a consistent "kish kish kish" noise coming through the static when my leg was at rest.  The Neurologist explained that the nerves in my left leg where firing even though there was no need.  He said, "there is a definite nerve issue there."

"I'm not crazy!"  I thought.  Finally some evidence! Someone believes me!

The next test I had to lay on my back.  A woman came in with another machine and a wand that looked like a miniature cattle prod.  She would start with small shocks on my hand which would tickle, then slowly amp up the shocks until it was a painful zap and my arm would bounce around the table.  She shocked up from my hand up my arm starting with small shocks and going up to bigger zaps along the way.  Then she did my leg.  The worst was when she zapped behind my knee.  I told her I hated her and to please bring back the man with the needles.

At the end of the appointment the Neurologist was confused and not sure what was going on.  He gave me medication that was used in patients with Parkinson's, ordered blood tests and a Spinal MRI and sent me on my way.  I tried the medication for a few months but it made the left side of my body twitch when I was at rest.  It was so bad that I sometimes had trouble grabbing things and I was afraid I would accidentally jerk the wheel while driving.  It made everything worse so I stopped it.

On the drive home from Edmonton I sat in the passenger seat and cried.  Did nobody have an answer?  Why wasn't I being treated with compassion?  Why didn't anyone have any empathy?  This was difficult dammit!  I listed in my head all of the doctors, specialists and tests I had had.  They meant nothing.  I had been looking for an answer for over a year and nobody takes me seriously unless my husband is in the room with me.

My appointment was in March and my family doctor still hasn't received the consult letter from the Neurologist so I can't get my spinal MRI until that happens.

All of this leaves me to wonder.  Would I get better care, or more sympathy if I was thin?  Or a man?

Relapse

Every few weeks I still get a request from someone.  To either offer up advice, or to please continue writing in my blog.  I'll be honest, I think about this blog daily.  But mostly I think about how ashamed I am.  Some days I feel like a giant fraud.  Why?  Because of a reason that's actually really stupid.  I gained weight.

I had a very rough winter and spring.  I had postpartum depression, and because of the unknown nerve issues in my feet I didn't leave my house for weeks at a time.  These two things together created a volatile mental state and I relapsed.

The good news is, is that I am slogging through the muck, but now I have help.  I have decided to go to counselling and now the shame isn't so big and I don't feel like a fraud 100% of the time.

One thing I have learned is that if you have an eating disorder of any kind, seeing weight loss photos and hearing about calories and weight loss or gain can be triggering for some.  So I have decided to remove the photos from the sidebar.  I have also decided that I will try to avoid talking about calories, weight gain or loss in number form.

I know that when you are in the weight loss mindset you know all about calories.  You count them, you feel good when you stay within calorie range for weight loss, and you know how to exercise to eat up extra calories.  Through counselling we discussed no longer counting calories and instead being free of calorie counting all together and eating intuitively.  To be honest this thought scares me.  How do I know how "good" I'm doing?  How do I know if I will lose weight?  I need to see numbers written down in my notebook; those numbers when added up must equal under a certain range for me to feel good and secure.

Aha.  That's it right there.  Using calorie counting to make me feel good about myself.

 When I binge eat, I eat to have control over my emotions.  I eat to feel good.  So when I was losing weight I instead used calorie counting to feel good about myself.  I just transferred my coping mechanism from one thing to another.  Some might say that it's a good thing. "At least you're losing weight".  I can hear the comments rolling in already.  But if it's a good thing then I wouldn't have relapsed.  If it was a good thing then I wouldn't see calories as "good" or "bad".  Instead they're just numbers, and it's just food.  What I need to work on is the problem that lead me to having a coping mechanism in the first place.  If I chose to calorie count later, then I will.  But until then I will not use it to make myself feel better about myself.  I have to do the dirty work and find out why I binge eat in the first place.

So now you will see that this blog is now about my journey through binge eating, and not a journey through weight loss.  I may post photos, but I will avoid "before & after" photos simply because they are triggering for some, and really unnecessary.  My journey is to be healthy in both body and mind, not just to be a certain size.  (okay, I don't totally believe that yet.  But I hope I do one day).

To update very quickly.. William is now 11 months old!  He is crawling everywhere, walking along things and today he started standing without holding onto anything!  We are already planning for his birthday!  My how time flies.