Weigh-in results

Hoorah...
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A GAIN of 0.2 kg

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Unfortunately it's not the lb per week that we require but considering that there are plenty of scenarios that haven't been exactly like the normal routine it's pretty good. I'm off 'gallivanting' so Lizzie's got to cope with one or two lunches by herself this week and so far (I hope) has only had minor slippage with one sandwich as apposed to 1.5 sarnies on one of the days. But she still made the sandwich home alone, all progress!
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What's more, I believe this is the first time (ever?) that Lizzie's gained weight two weeks in a row whilst out of hospital so huge pat on back.
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Apologies for lack of regular postings this week... I'm trying to type on a German keyboard where the 'y's are swapped with the 'z's, the apostrophe is in a totally illogical place and the whole thing is dotted with landmines of ö, ü, ä, ß, amongst other things. Next bumper load on Tuesday, barring any catastrophes (broken limbs etc.)
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And finally, I'm afraid there isn't an e-mail going out to the mailing list this week as my computer with all the addresses on has been left at home. But don't panic, you are all still included on it!
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Thanks again everyone for your continued support, sponsorship and comments! Remember, many of you still owe money for the last gain so get cracking with payments at www.justgiving.com/lizziegrimaldi
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Love Hannah

Lizzie's diary, 26th February 2008

Diary entry: 26th February
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Great. What a relief - a gain this week. Maybe not enough (0.2kg) but a gain nonetheless. You see, I knew I was back on track. It's so ratifying to see my efforts translated into pounds.
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"It's a very odd thing
As odd as can be
That whatever Lizzie G eats
Turns into Lizzie G"
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Good timing as I'm off to Cotswold House this afternoon.

Lizzie's diary, 25th February 2008

Diary entry: 25th February
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I feel terribly alone. Barry has gone back to London after enduring lunch with me, and with no Hannah or Nikky here for comfort, I'm a bit lost. I know what I have to do but somehow trying to fill the time until you have to eat again is not easy without having someone to help take your mind off it. The Clinutren is getting harder and harder to swallow. I know it's the dreaded weigh-in tomorrow, and I am also going to see Nicky Boughton so I guess it is hardly surprising that I'm a bit wound up.
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Lunch is a bit angst-ridden. When I know I am under scrutiny, behaviours try to creep in. Come back Hannah - all is forgiven!
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I tried to keep calm (I've bought shares in Rescue Remedy). I'm, trying to get back to eating normally, part of which is being able to have lunch together. Life appears on hold rather than moving forward (albeit at a snail's pace) and getting over this. Unfortunately this rather painful and unpalatable process has to be endured.

Lizzie's diary, 24th February 2008

Diary entry: 24th February 2008
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Just when I thought it was safe.
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Why do emotions have to be so flipping emotional? Apropos of absolutely nothing, I needed to scream and yell and generally behave like a raving lunatic. Poor Barry was unfortunate enough to be caught in the firing line. But luckily he had the sense to make himself scarce until it had blown over.
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Q: Why are men like mascara?
A: They run at the slightest display of emotion.
Boom boom.
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So what was I going to write? I was never a Bluebird. Our loss.
Back to life. Reality calls.
Oh yes, I'm my own worst enemy. That was it.
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Bit too random all of that. A stream of semi-consciousness. But you try writing when you are tired and emotional. It's that word again.

Lizzie's diary, 22nd February 2008

Diary entry: 22nd February
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It's very difficult to write down everything that is happening when it seems to be happening so quickly.
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It is very scary not having Hannah here. She is such a grounding element in all this. So, I don't know, real. Normal. Without her I feel slightly adrift. Like I have to make all the decisions.

Lizzie's diary, 21st February 2008

Diary entry: 21st February
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So. Our last lunch before Hannah goes off gallivanting in Austria for ten days. How do I feel? (Sorry, just need to slam this window of opportunity shut before the anorexic gremlin doing cartwheels of glee outside it has a chance to wheedle its way in.)
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I'll miss her (I'm sure the feeling is not mutual) She is an enormous support to me and I couldn't have come this far without her. She has a very old head on her young shoulders and really knows her own mind. (Funny, both those things were written in my school reports when I was 12.) You don't argue with Hannah. Well not unless you value your head. I'll just have to imagine her reaction (the ubiquitous eyeroll - must think up an emoticon for that) whenever I feel myself teetering on the brink of behaviourism.
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I don't feel ready to be left on my own and I need to institute a pro tempore support system to prevent myself succumbing to the temptation to restrict which is still frightening pervasive. Had a little wibble as it was coming up to lunchtime. No-one around to invigilate. What to do? What to do?
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Decided to risk interrupting Hannah's holiday and texted for help. Luckily she was on hand so could talk me through making the sandwich. Now all I have to do is eat it.
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I'm pretty proud of myself actually. Sitting on my own and eating a proper sandwich. I concede it was one rather than one and a half, but still I gave myself a bloody good pat on the back. Well done! (I'm allowed to say that).

Lizzie's diary, 20th February 2008

Diary entry: 20th February
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I am totally overwhelmed and humbled by the kindness of strangers (and of those who are not so strange). In particular one comment brought tears to my eyes. For someone who doesn't know me to say they are listening with compassion rather than chagrin, that they are not rolling their eyes any more than if their daughter was sick from chemo, is such a comfort when I am feeling misunderstood. So thankyou, whoever you may be. Another really helpful suggestion was to put a warm pad on my stomach to help digestion - it actually works (even better if the warm pad is a wheat-filled sheep - thankyou Nanny!)
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I hope my digestive system is getting a bit more used to working again - it doesn't seem to be complaining quite so much (touch wood) although whether that is due to the constant supply of peppermint tea and rescue remedy who knows? I don't care, as long as it keeps improving.
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According to Brillat-Savarin, "Digestion, of all the bodily functions, is the one which exercises the greatest influence on the mental state of the individual"
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Gerry posited that it is unlikely that I am absorbing as much as I should be and he could be right. All too often (and sorry to be so scatological) things are still as they went in (if-you-understand-me-sort-of-business).
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Changing the subject rapidly.
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I've just looked back through some of the comments and realized that they are a huge part of this. To have such support from friends and anonymouses (anonymice?) is invaluable. I am learning so much, not just about myself and how I deal with stuff, but how other people are. That it is ok to just be. That one of the most important things in life is to make other people feel good - but genuinely. Without an agenda. Just because you want to. Altruism. It is not all about how hard you work, how much you earn and how much you have. The extraneous material accoutrements of life are baubles (albeit very pretty baubles) and hollow baubles at that.
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"A fully gorged belly never produced a sprightly mind", so don't expect too much of me. Just back from lunch chez Shergolds and I am well and truly stuffed. Why is it that just when I think I am coping with quantities, I find myself completely floored? I kept thinking I was hallucinating and that I'd been given a magical plate that kept replenishing itself. Luckily I've got a massage booked this afternoon, so hopefully that'll take my mind off my stomach for a while.
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Well I've been pummeled to within an inch of my life. I feel like I've been put through a mangle. It was great though, I must remember to do it more often.
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Still stuffed from that humungous lunch. And it's almost dinner time. So on with the Sisyphean task in hand.

Lizzie's diary, 19th February 2008

Diary entry: 19th February
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Very disappointed. Not just in the lack of weight gain, but in myself. I should have been stronger. Stronger to overcome all the hurdles that presented themselves. Unfortunately it just comes down to me, I have to be the one to do something - if I don't do it, it doesn't get done. I'm really surprised just how I feel about this - I would have thought I would have been relieved that I hadn't gained weight for the 2nd week but I wasn't. If only I had been able to keep the momentum up rather than succumb to the temptation offered to me by my over-kind husband.
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After the messed up few days, I'm finding it hard to switch straight back into it. I haven't gone back to square one by any means, but I couldn't add in another snack as we had planned. But I'm back on the right tracks again and I am not going to be pushed off them again.

Weigh-in results and sponsorship update

Chaps and chappesses,

There is good and bad news this week. We'll start with the bad news...

No gain this week sadly. Many distractions and a long weekend with Barry rather than with constant nagging from Hannah the Horrid has upset the routine slightly, but what we mustn't do is assume that the only way to keep at this challenge is to completely avoid the more difficult obstacles. Lizzie's got to learn from this and know that if it's possible to gain weight (to all intents and purposes) by herself, then there's no reason why she can't stick to exactly the same routine with another body in the house. We've discussed the strong temptations both to 'invite' problems and also to use those problems as excuses to not stick at the routine. Overall, provided Lizzie learns from this (and improves this week and not in 6 months time!) then it's been a worthwhile experience.

And the good news...

You all owe money to the Hospice of St. Francis!!!

The deal was that any weight gain had to be maintained for one week before it counted as a proper gain... and now for the first time, here we are with pounds for pounds! The total amount raised for this first pound is approximately:

£2100

Congratulations to Lizzie and to every supporter that has helped her on the way. I know you'll all be very disappointed is there isn't an improvement next week but we'll be working on it. Please visit the webpage www.justgiving.com/lizziegrimaldi and donate your Pounds for Pounds figure, and remember to tick the box that enables the tax relief, it really does make a difference.

As is mentioned in the diary, I am going away on Friday for 10 days and although I'll be in touch with Lizzie, there will be changes to incorporate into the routine. But she CAN do it, and had better do it otherwise 'Hannah the Horrid' will return 'Hannah the Hideously Horrendous' on the 3rd March!

As always, please e-mail hannah@hannahshergold.com if you'd like to be added to the mailing list which will let you know when the blog is updated. If you'd like to sponsor Lizzie then please have a look at the November post entitled 'The Donation System' and follow the instructions.

Thanks everyone, keep those comments coming in!

H

Lizzie's diary, 19th February 2008

Diary entry: 19th February

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I suppose I should be grateful for small mercies - at least I avoided the cliche of losing all the weight I gained last week, but it would have been so nice to have another equivalent gain this week. What it has proved is just how important sticking to the routine is - I have to get firmly back on track this week. I cannot allow myself (or anyone else) to deviate from my road back to health, however tempting it may be. Ok, i risk upsetting Barry, but I'm sure he is big enough to shoulder it - as long as he can see it is for the best (Fortifresh).

Lizzie's diary, 18th February 2008

Diary entry: 18th February

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Apologies for the hiatus. So much to say but so few words. Who is going to invent a pause button for life?
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I’m a bit worried. Hannah is going away at the end of this week and I’m not sure how I am going to cope without the nagging! Although I completely understand that she has her own life, I do need her. I need her support at the moment; I’m not ready to take over yet. It would be very easy to reassure her that I’m doing fine on my own, but I would be lying. I can’t pretend. This is too important to risk just because I’m scared of appearing needy and demanding. Although I think I can do it on my own, I’m not sure. It is now “lunchtime”. Barry has gone back to London and I haven’t heard from Hannah since I texted her yesterday. What should I do? Call her and tell her how let down and disappointed I’m feeling? Make myself a sandwich and try to eat it on my own? I’ve got to do it sometime. I’m just not ready yet. I’m not sure I can. I just hope she contacts me.

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I decided that rather than get into a state waiting to see if she was going to, I would give her a little nudge in the form of an “are you ok?” text. Whether or not she had intended to come became irrelevant – she did, and we had lunch. Sorted.

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I’m in a bit of a quandary. I’m nervous about getting weighed tomorrow. What happens if I haven’t gained as much weight this week? Maybe I should put it off until Wednesday. Although the week started off really well, the weekend wasn’t as good as it could have been. I really tried to stick to what I knew I had to do, but it was not wholly successful. But on the other hand, it might have been. That is the problem, I don’t know. Whereas I should be able to calculate what I have done and make a reasonable judgment as to how much I will have gained, I can’t. And it is my own fault for allowing myself to upset the routine. So do I stick to Tuesday weighing or do I give myself a day to get back into the swing of things?

Lizzie's diary, 15th February 2008

Diary entry: 15th February

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I’m torn between liking having the energy to do more and wanting to do more, and hating the feelings of fatness. Everything feels tight and my face is all puffy. I know it is to be expected and I just have to put up with it. I just must not give in to the temptation to cut back and try to regain control of everything. Remember how bad it feels. This may not feel nice, but at least it is different – nothing worse that stagnating in familiar Stygian waters. Better the devil I don’t know in this case.

Lizzie's diary, 13th February 2008

Diary entry: 13th February

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I wonder. Is it possible that I really am going to be able to get through this and lead a “normal” life? It’s a beautiful day – brilliant blue sky and sunshine. The sheep and horses are in the field and there’s a carpet of snowdrops in the garden. So to take my mind off dietary things, I walked into the village to post B’s Valentine’s card. I met a lovely lady who keeps chickens who gave me a couple of her eggs (her chicken’s eggs, obviously) “for my lunch”. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wouldn’t be having them (egg sandwiches anyone? Brings back olfactory memories of school packed lunches and the embarrassment as you lifted the lid of your lunchbox and it was egg). But we will have them sometime. It was so…normal! That’s what people do. When I got back, I had a phone interview with “Moncrieff” of Ireland’s Newstalk radio. Despite predictable nerves, it was fine and he was lovely (with an accent to die for). I’ve asked them if they might make a donation to the charity so watch this space…
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Strange feelings. Saying goodbye to what I had become used to and trying to recognize whether these feelings are those of normality. I have to accept that these unfamiliar feeling have to be endured. I cannot know whether they are right or not, so I have no choice but to “sit with them” (ghastly expression, reminds me of Pinny of the Priory). Just get on with something else and perhaps the uncomfortable-ness of it all will go away. I know stuff happens during this gaining weight period, that my emotions will go haywire, that I’ll fight it, try to get out of it, feel huge, worry about how much and how quickly things are happening etc etc and as long as I recognize, acknowledge and accept that it is text book stuff, I can keep moving forward. I must not get hung up on it. Just sometimes I need to talk it through with someone who is not going to react with an eyeroll, a “typical ‘behaviour’” comment or with anger. So perhaps this diary is a good outlet for my deranged thoughts. No-one else is going to listen without prejudice. Whether or not it is “real”, I do feel full, fat etc etc – solid more than anything else and it is an uncomfortable alien feeling. But it is no worse than feeling detached, starved, empty, fractious and all the other things that restricting engenders. Or is it? Is this definitely the way I want to go?

Lizzie's diary, 12th February 2008

Diary entry: 12th February

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Hallelujah!

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Thank heavens for that. A rise of 0.6kg to 37.7kg. What a relief – something to show for all the effort. Now will they all believe me? All I have to do now is resist the temptation to ease off. I need to do this every week.

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What has surprised me most is how genuinely pleased I am.
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I think we could do with some advice on how to proceed. It would just be too predictable to let myself off the hook and not continue to gain. I am absolutely determined not to lose what I have worked so hard to gain, I mustn't slip backwards. But I am also, understandably, worried that this is too much to have put on in a week and will the weight just go up and up? Hannah is dead set on 3 meals, 3 snacks and 2 Clinutren but that is too much. The most I have managed so far is meals plus 2 Clinutren and 2 snacks but that was just for one day. Going on what Nicky said yesterday, I should be on 2000 calories which pretty much equates to what I feel is achievable and tolerable - meals plus 2 Clinutren and 1 snack (or 1 Clinutren and 2 snacks). Then we can see if that will give us a regular pound per week gain, if not, add another snack. I cannot risk panicking now. I have to do this again next week or i will lose any credibility I have managed to scrape up.

Weigh-in results

At long last...

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A GAIN OF 0.6 kg or 1.3 lbs

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We are currently dancing a ceremonial jig of joy! Quite ungainly but who cares? It would appear that we have finally begun to get the measure of this. After this week we have a little more understanding of what sort of amounts, calorie-wise, must be consumed. And the real battle will be overcoming the mental hurdle to not just maintain, but gain again next week.

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Yesterday's visit to Cotswold House has hopefully given Lizzie even more incentive to stick at this. Much as the work that the staff do there and the care that is provided is second to none, let's face it - it doesn't match up to lunch out on the deck at home! Our target is to gain a minimum of 1 lb per week. That's half what would be expected in hospital so it's certainly achievable. Let's hope the motivation remains... the physical task of eating will only get easier so it's purely a battle of wills between Lizzie and the gremlin.

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To receive updates of recent posts please e-mail hannah@hannahshergold.com and ask to be added to the mailing list. If you would like to sponsor Lizzie please read the November post entitled 'The Donation System' and follow the instructions.

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To all you lovely sponsors... hold your horses!! The deal was that any pounds gained had to be maintained for at least a week before they counted as a proper gain, so keep those comments of encouragement rolling in. Fingers crossed it's beginning to work!

Lizzie's diary, 11th February 2008

Diary entry: 11th February

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I really, really do not want to go to this appointment at Cotswold House but I know I need to, if only to remind myself what I am trying to avoid. Hannah has said she will come with me, although why I should inflict it on her, God only knows. I don't really know how to approach it. Maybe I should stop thinking about it and winding myself up and just get on with something else. Like what? Eating? (again already)

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This is not going well, my stomach is doing somersaults. I've dosed up on the RR but it doesn't seem to be working. Bloody homeopathic crap. Where's the real stuff? Despite having to eat it earlier than either of us wanted, Barry and I had a dejeuner sur l'herbe (somehow a cheese sandwich out on the deck doesn't have the same ring to it) and it was lovely. Sun shining, just talking. And it was really, like, normal.

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Well we went [to Cotswold House] and I don't know what to say really. I get the feeling Hannah has had enough, which is slightly demoralising. I know I can't expect her to be optimistic whatever, but I am starting to feel like she is doing it slightly grudgingly. Which is not to say I blame her. She must feel pretty fed up herself - as though she is the only one who really wants it, and that I am not fully committed. But I am. I have to be now. And I think one thing that has come out of today is that I need to get a wiggle on, dragging it out is going to make it more painful for all involved. If I've got to go through feeling like this (and I do, whether it is here or in hospital) I may as well force myself to feel a bit worse. Is adding two more snacks together going to be worse than one this week and one the next? It is not going to be easier waiting until I am used to it - I probably never will be. Someone likened it to ripping off a plaster. Do you ever remember it being less painful if you picked it off gradually? But we are not really going to know anything until we see what the scales say tomorrow.

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Nikky (Boughton) emphasised that at a BMI of 13, it was nigh on impossible to gain weight as an outpatient and I can understand why. Even if one does manage to gain a decent amount one week, how do you continue to gain and prevent yourself panicking? Also as an outpatient there are too many opportunities to slip into old bad habits. So it is not going to work if I am not 100% committed, if I feel I have the option of bargaining, if I feel I have a choice. I don't. Either I do it completely or I don't. I cannot afford myself the luxury of choice. I have to stick to this regime, to Hannah's regime, unequivocally. I have to trust in her and do as she says. No question. The less I fight, the quicker and easier it will. Shut up and eat up. I'd have to if I was in there.

Lizzie's diary, 9th February 2008

Diary entry: 9th February

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"It seems to me that our 3 basic needs, for food and security and love, are so mixed and mingled and entwined that we cannot straightly think of one without the others. So it happens that when I write of hunger, I am really writing about love and the hunger for it, and warmth and the love of it and the hunger for it; and then the warmth and richness and fine reality of hunger satisfied; and it is all one." (M. F. K. Fisher)

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I do not like this feeling at all. I need to be able to talk it through with someone. I hate feeling full, it troubles me but I have no idea why. I know it is the right thing but it is very hard to cope with on your own. There is no-one I can talk to about it. Hannah's attitude (understandably) is just f*****g do it. I can sense the eye roll when I tell her how full I am, that I can't eat any more, that I feel sick, fat, whatever. And yes, it does sound psychotic sometimes. But this is an illness and although I am trying to get through it, I'm finding it hard to unravel all these knotted skeins of neuroses alone. I think I need to be talking to someone while I gain the weight. How do I stop myself panicking. How do I know when it is enough. How do I trust that what Hannah tells me I should be eating is right? Of course it is predictable that I will think it is too much, but what if it really is and totally unreasonable? I just about managed yesterday's quotient (less 1 snack) but I am not doing quite so well today. H said I'd better get on with it or I'll never get through it by bedtime. True, but doesn't really help on the angst front. I've had to invest in some Rescue Remedy (although I'd probably do just as well with an aliquot of Calvados) to try to calm myself down. But I still feel like a bloody munchkin. Pilsbury doughman. With currants for eyes. Will I ever feel hungry again?

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There is a Hawaiian saying that you shouldn't eat until you are full but eat until you are tired. Well I'm tired now. Jaw ache. I've hit a bit of a brick wall in terms of capacity today. Which is a shame, because yesterday was really good. But I couldn't cram any more in today, so am two snacks down. I just had to let it filter down a bit. I don't know whether it was panic, physical satiation or a bit of both but I had to ease off a touch. Still, I've done really well on the meals and Clinutren so it is not all doom and gloom.

Lizzie's diary, 8th February 2008

Diary entry: 8th February

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This is it, no more increases. No more until we know how this is working. I can't keep eating more and more. Every day Hannah tries to introduce yet another snack, but this is where I draw the line. Let me get used to this for now.

Lizzie's diary, 6th February 2008

Diary entry: 6th February

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Today has got to be the day I do something. I have to. I can't have another day like yesterday. Anything is going to be better than that chasm of despair I found myself in. Please try it. For Hannah, for the hospice, for your friends, for Mim, for Barry. For yourself. Stop thinking and start doing. And try to keep breathing, it helps.

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Why do i just want to scream? I'm like a raving lunatic sometimes. Irrational, illogical, irascible and irritable. Or like Regan O'Neill. Now undo the straps.

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Why do I want to fight what is good for me? I was determined today was going to be pivotal and it is. Testament to that is that at the time of writing, I am sipping Clinutren Number 2 (Grapefruit flavour since you ask) No half measures. If nothing changes this week, it's not going to. Yes I'll kick and scream at every new mountain of food I have to scale (although it would be easier for all involved if I got on with it quietly). I will feel better but I'm bound to feel worse first. There is no other way out. I've burnt my bridges now I've got to lie in them.

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There, as if by magic, the Clinutren is finished. Mind over matter. My face feels like it is burning up - cheeks have gone all pink. This will pass. Keep breathing, it's ok. Makes a change, feeling too hot. I don't like it though. I thought these things were supposed to be easily assimilated. Could have fooled me.

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There have been a few comments about the lack of weight gain and the pros and cons of hospital admission. All of them helpful especially from those who have been through this either themselves or with a daughter. Obviously Hannah and I have discussed it and know that if nothing changes this week she is throwing in the towel and I'll admit defeat. I have to remind myself that defeat isn't the worst of failures, the true failure is not to have tried. And have we tried! And I'm still trying (yes, I know, very trying. Ha ha) But failure can be turned into success if you learn from it. Picasso said that action is the foundational key to all success, so its a good job I have started doing something.

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I found myself asking myself why I was scared of enjoying my dinner. It was actually quite nice for a change (I have developed a habit of ruining whatever I make and then having to force myself to eat it, however dried out & desiccated it has become). But rather than enjoying it, I almost had to invent ways not to. Bizarre. I gave myself a good talking to (first sign of madness, talking to yourself. Muttering) and forced myself to return to the feelings of 'yes - this tastes nice'. Plus it's good for you, it's the right thing to do etc. etc. And I got on with it. Was I worried by the fact that, 2 Clinutrens down, I should be too full to merit enjoyment - I shouldn't be "hungry" for more. Or if I finish it I will be so full. It's not that hard so stop making it. The Clinutren did go down. You didn't cease digesting - the feeling did wear off. And you've really achieved something today. Don't spoil it now. And don't you dare be tempted to not do the same tomorrow.

Lizzie's diary, 5th February 2008

Diary entry: 5th February
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Today is going to go down as an all time low. However bad you think you're going to feel, it can't be as bad as this. Do something.
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'If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude. Don't complain.' Maya Angelou.

Lizzie's diary, 5th February 2008

Diary entry: 5th February

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I was right, I hadn't done enough. My weight was exactly the same. Boring. As Barry quite rightly said - people are just going to lose interest. Actually, I'm losing interest, got to do something dramatic this week or I'll be accused of procrastinating again.

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"It is the unknown that excites the ardour of scholars, who, in the known alone, would shrivel up with boredome" Wallace Stevens.

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Mim is right - I look ghastly. My face, which had always belied the fact that the rest of me is emaciated, is starting to look haggard. My eyes are sunken and embedded dark circles, and my mouth looks too big. Garry once said he thought I'd "had some work done". No - if the rest of your head resembles something from the Jivaro Clan, it's inevitable your features appear out of proportion. I need to do something, and fast. Carpe diem and all that.

Lizzie's diary, 4th February 2008

Diary entry: 4th February

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Maybe I should concentrate on the positives. The trouble is, that if I do I'm in danger of kidding myself that I'm doing alright and I'm not sure I am. I haven't done enough this week. I've failed on the Clinutren front and have done nothing to make up for that. I've disappointed myself and I think Hannah must be a bit pee-ed off. There I go again - started off wanting to write about positives and instead I've gone on about what I haven't done.

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Perhaps that is because there hasn't been much progress this week. Although there has - I know I keep harking back to lunch, but I am really chuffed. I'm pleasantly surprised by how quickly my body has accommodated it. I actually found myself quite enjoying it today. Barry was ever so sweet and volunteered to buy fresh bread (along with milk - but more of that anon) so we had rather yummy smoked salmon sandwiches together. A slight change from him having to sit opposite me eating a braeburn cut into eighths for months on end. This week I'm going to try having a milky drink before I go to bed which is something we had to do in the Priory. It's an obvious thing to do (shame I hate milk) - not only does it have a chance to reach those places it needs to without being burned off, it has the added bonus of inducing a honey-heavy dew of slumber.

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During my incarceration I patented "Chorlicks" - a carefully guarded secret blend of hot chocolate and horlicks. (Another of my inventions was "flutter" which was immediately banned as behavioural. Which led me to question of where one draws the line between preference and behaviour. I disliked their slightly rancid tasting individual pats of salted butter and found the prescribed volume of flora rather copious. By using half of each I got the lesser of the two evils. But despite them being equivalent in terms of calories, I was not allowed to have it. It nearly led to my discharge. Ok, looking back, it does seem pretty bonkers, but it mattered at the time. Maybe you had to be there.)

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Anyway back to Chorlicks. I'm just a bit worried that I'll still be too full after dinner, but I guess there's a pretty simple solution - eat earlier (durr). It'll feel uncomfortable for a bit, but whats a bit of discomfort in the grand scheme of things?

Lizzie's diary, 2nd February 2008

Diary entry: 2nd February

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I have this strange dichotomy. Part of me wants more care, part wants less. Part of me can't understand how little he wants to know about what is going on and part of me totally understands it. But unfortunately this is going on and until it is endured and resolved, it is not just going to disappear. However much we pretend, however long we go and play games, it's still here until we make it go away. I cannot get away from the fact that I have to eat more, I have to tolerate the feeling of eating more than I want, of having to finish everything and have dessert. I'm scared that I'm still tempted to duck out and not have what I probably should. I know how much I should be eating, I'm not stupid. Just scared. I'm scared of completely committing and scared of not committing. If I don't go the whole hog (oink) then I'm just prolonging it. And if I do commit? Then what? What exactly is it that scares me? Is it as simple as fear of the unknown? And why is that worse than the known? Try it, you might like it. And if you don't, don't keep doing it. Oh I don't know.

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If I'm functioning at this weight, do I really need to change? I need to really think about my motivation. Familiarity breeds contempt. No that's not the simile I'm looking for. Maybe familiarity breeds complacency. Well, something is making me think that perhaps I can exist at this weight. But that's all it is, Lizzie. Existing. Not living. I need another kick up the bony backside because I'm in real danger of re-calibrating my normality gauge.

Lizzie's diary, 31st January 2008

Diary entry: 31st January

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Over lunch to day Hannah asked me what my motivation was at the moment. Is it to get better or to stay out of hospital? That's a very good question and has got me thinking about my mindset over the past week or so. I think I had become focused on the deadline we had set ourselves and lost sight of the long-term goal and what it is that I really want from this. Which is to return to a normal life with a normal healthy attitude towards food and weight. Although I am learning that the range of what might be considered "normal" is far broader that I initially thought. Obviously I want to stay out of hospital but that must not be my sole aim. I can't live my life on the edge, constantly staving off disaster. I need to find a weight at which I am happy, but also one that allows me to lose a pound or two without initiating another crisis. What that weight is, only time will tell, and I have a feeling that my attitude will change as the weight comes on, and that I will become more acquiescent. At least I hope so. At the moment, 1.5 stone seems an enormous amount to gain. And 7 stone 4 feels an awful long way off.

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We are conducting an experiment with the Clinutren in an attempt to make it more palatable. So we are trying orange sorbet and vanilla ice-cream. Could be the next big thing. Perhaps we could have a cappucino of Clinutren or a Clinutren "foam".

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I am SO cold. Just shivering. I thought eating was supposed to warm you up but I get terribly, terribly cold. I mean I've just had a hot dinner - salmon, potatoes and brocolli and I'm sitting here under a throw with my thermals and cashmere bedsocks, sporting a rather fetching pair of blue lips, a frostbitten nose and suffering from icecream head. I don't think I'll be sampling the sorbet tonight.

Lizzie's diary, 30th January 2008

Diary entry: 30th January

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Why do I manage to make a hash of everything, I manage to do and say just the wrong thing, when things are going right. When I think I can relax and get on with a situation , I'm wrong. When I think I can rely on someone, I can't. I mustn't say what I feel without it being judged - I have to remember to engage brain before opening mouth. But then it is my choice to expose myself in this way so I have to accept that my immediate reactions are not going to be palatable to everyone, particularly not to me. If I can read back on them and condemn them, feel ashamed and wish they could be unsaid/unfelt/unthought, then it is hardly surprising that others would be more judgemental. So what should I do? Should I pretend that I don't feel like that? Then I would be fake and a hypocrite. Which is worse? I just need to accept that it is normal, real and human. Not necessarily nice and certainly not an attractive quality and one of which I am proud. But real. And all I can do is acknowledge it, try not to do it again and move on. And quit festering.

Lizzie's diary, 29th January 2008

Diary entry: 29th January

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I hate Tuesdays. The day to take stock and plan for the week ahead. I had to be honest with Hannah regarding the past week's Clinutren intake and admit that I had never realised the goal of 1.5 per day. She has also, quite rightly, questioned dinner portions. Her idea of a salmon fillet is rather different from mine. Last night she bought me a couple of pieces from the fishman. God knows what steroids this fish had been on but they were HUGE. So we subjected them to a weighing "sesh" (why should I be the only one to have to endure it) and the scales fell from my eyes. My idea of normal is evidently pretty skewed so I am going to have to resort to weighing things to ensure I am getting as much as I think I am. A further reality check came in the form of the humble potato which (Hannah pointed out) like man, was not meant to dwell alone. But I appreciate the potato only as a protection against famine, except for that, I know of nothing more eminently tasteless.

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“How much cheese is a handful? How much more or less is a cupful? What is the capacity of a glass, a tumbler, or a soup ladle? What is the difference between a suspicion and a pinch? How much more is a good pinch? How much wine is a little, how many olives a few? When a book says a tin of chopped almonds or pomegranate juice what are you supposed to understand by that?” (Elizabeth David)

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But seriously, I do have a real problem with portion control. Is it never more than you can lift or no bigger than your head?