Tim Curry And McDonald's French Fries by Angela Theresa Egic (read e book .TXT) 📖
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my sheet and realized I was completely nude!
I was then so embarrassed and told my mother, "I wish I had remembered to shave my legs!"
In the hospital for three days – Nick, my supposed boyfriend, didn't once come to visit me and I was devastated. The surgeon also said something bizarre during my after surgery evaluation.
"That's strange; her appendix weren't very swelled up for acute appendicitis."
I still felt bizarre after the surgery, but went back to work, weak, depressed and no longer speaking to Nick. Everyone noticed I was too pale and thin. At work, and I hadn't eaten in five days, I was feeling cramps (I had a little tiny surgical site where they removed my appendix). I went up to the bathroom and was feeling more pain than I had the day I passed out. A co-worker came up and asked if I was all right. I told her no and to get the manager. The manager asked if I wanted him to drive me home or back to the hospital. I asked to go home.
At home, still in pain, which was getting very, very severe; I finally hurled and felt 100% better . . . for about ten minutes.
Suddenly, like a freight train hit me right in the abdomen – pained surged through my body and I screamed like a dying animal. My father was lost as to what to do as I screamed – Mom not home and my cousin, Vince in his room. I would learn, much later, Vince called for an ambulance; although he never came out to the living room to tend to me.
As the paramedics arrived, so did my mother; the paramedics came in I begged for a gun to end my misery; I kept trying to force myself to pass out. But, the paramedics wouldn't let me sleep and asked me questions. As they announced my blood pressure at 90 over 60 and going down – an ambulance rushed me to a different hospital, St. Joseph’s. The very hospital I came into this world.
Emergency surgery revealed a ruptured ovarian cyst, which destroyed both the ovary and fallopian tube on one side; so I had everything removed on one side.
We’d learn, then, the appendix was never acute and didn’t need to be removed (too late now, though, it was gone). It had been a cyst the whole time. I had also formed a cyst in one of my breasts. The hospital was afraid to give me another surgery because I was much too thin and anemic and they felt I could die on the table.
Eventually, the cyst was removed and my weight went down some more. I ended up in the hospital for another month and diagnosed with "malnutrition" (because anorexia wasn't famous enough yet). I looked like one of those starving orphans in the third world nations! I was fully emaciated and my body was eating my muscles in my legs. My once plump cheeks were sunken in and my veins, which they were feeding me through via tubes . . . kept collapsing. They were trying to find veins in my legs and feet!
At this point, there had been no solid food in my mouth or body for over a month. And the two or three times I tried to eat a green bean my throat would close immediately.
Finally, as I lay dying, my wish to "go home to God" coming true, the doctor came in and told my mother and me, "Tell your daughter she's going to die. And Angela, tell your mother what you want to be buried in, because I can't help you anymore!"
He walked out the room, leaving us stunned.
My mother, suddenly calm for the first time in months, said, "Well, Angela, I don't want you to go. And I know this, if you don't eat, you'll never know if you could've met Tim Curry or become a movie star. But, I know for a fact, if you die, you won't do either."
Because I hadn't eaten much for three months in total, but nothing in a month; and girls, with anorexia, you also lose your appetite completely – I did have one, only one, very slight craving . . . McDonald's french fries!!
Against the doctor's orders, my mother brought a bag of McDonald's french fries into my room.
My mother understood me better than the doctor – who said I shouldn’t eat french fries. She brought the fries in her purse. I ate two and a half or three french fries, that’s all I could tolerate. At the weigh-in, the doctor none the wiser about the fries was encouraged that I had gained one ounce my appetite beginning to come back, a little bit. They sent me home to recover.
It did take another year for me to learn to eat normal again, and two years of anemia.
Still, Tim Curry and McDonald's french fries saved my life.
My mother's words made me think, yeah . . . I'd like to meet TC and become a movie star; and I would have to live to do it! Imprint
I was then so embarrassed and told my mother, "I wish I had remembered to shave my legs!"
In the hospital for three days – Nick, my supposed boyfriend, didn't once come to visit me and I was devastated. The surgeon also said something bizarre during my after surgery evaluation.
"That's strange; her appendix weren't very swelled up for acute appendicitis."
I still felt bizarre after the surgery, but went back to work, weak, depressed and no longer speaking to Nick. Everyone noticed I was too pale and thin. At work, and I hadn't eaten in five days, I was feeling cramps (I had a little tiny surgical site where they removed my appendix). I went up to the bathroom and was feeling more pain than I had the day I passed out. A co-worker came up and asked if I was all right. I told her no and to get the manager. The manager asked if I wanted him to drive me home or back to the hospital. I asked to go home.
At home, still in pain, which was getting very, very severe; I finally hurled and felt 100% better . . . for about ten minutes.
Suddenly, like a freight train hit me right in the abdomen – pained surged through my body and I screamed like a dying animal. My father was lost as to what to do as I screamed – Mom not home and my cousin, Vince in his room. I would learn, much later, Vince called for an ambulance; although he never came out to the living room to tend to me.
As the paramedics arrived, so did my mother; the paramedics came in I begged for a gun to end my misery; I kept trying to force myself to pass out. But, the paramedics wouldn't let me sleep and asked me questions. As they announced my blood pressure at 90 over 60 and going down – an ambulance rushed me to a different hospital, St. Joseph’s. The very hospital I came into this world.
Emergency surgery revealed a ruptured ovarian cyst, which destroyed both the ovary and fallopian tube on one side; so I had everything removed on one side.
We’d learn, then, the appendix was never acute and didn’t need to be removed (too late now, though, it was gone). It had been a cyst the whole time. I had also formed a cyst in one of my breasts. The hospital was afraid to give me another surgery because I was much too thin and anemic and they felt I could die on the table.
Eventually, the cyst was removed and my weight went down some more. I ended up in the hospital for another month and diagnosed with "malnutrition" (because anorexia wasn't famous enough yet). I looked like one of those starving orphans in the third world nations! I was fully emaciated and my body was eating my muscles in my legs. My once plump cheeks were sunken in and my veins, which they were feeding me through via tubes . . . kept collapsing. They were trying to find veins in my legs and feet!
At this point, there had been no solid food in my mouth or body for over a month. And the two or three times I tried to eat a green bean my throat would close immediately.
Finally, as I lay dying, my wish to "go home to God" coming true, the doctor came in and told my mother and me, "Tell your daughter she's going to die. And Angela, tell your mother what you want to be buried in, because I can't help you anymore!"
He walked out the room, leaving us stunned.
My mother, suddenly calm for the first time in months, said, "Well, Angela, I don't want you to go. And I know this, if you don't eat, you'll never know if you could've met Tim Curry or become a movie star. But, I know for a fact, if you die, you won't do either."
Because I hadn't eaten much for three months in total, but nothing in a month; and girls, with anorexia, you also lose your appetite completely – I did have one, only one, very slight craving . . . McDonald's french fries!!
Against the doctor's orders, my mother brought a bag of McDonald's french fries into my room.
My mother understood me better than the doctor – who said I shouldn’t eat french fries. She brought the fries in her purse. I ate two and a half or three french fries, that’s all I could tolerate. At the weigh-in, the doctor none the wiser about the fries was encouraged that I had gained one ounce my appetite beginning to come back, a little bit. They sent me home to recover.
It did take another year for me to learn to eat normal again, and two years of anemia.
Still, Tim Curry and McDonald's french fries saved my life.
My mother's words made me think, yeah . . . I'd like to meet TC and become a movie star; and I would have to live to do it! Imprint
Text: ©2012 Angela Theresa Egic
Publication Date: 01-30-2012
All Rights Reserved
Dedication:
To all those who have big dreams.
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