Spam Haiku Story

Must Eat Begin

Anorexia is the wrong path..
to live you must eat,
begin to live again...

This is the most disturbing intervention I've been involved with yet, worse than those holocaust pictures I saw in a book back in high school... She's about five foot eight, maybe five -nine, and she can't weigh more than 65 pounds. My God, how can she even be alive, let alone still alert and arguing with me. My emotions are torn: fear that it's too late to save her, and disgust that they waited so long to seek help..

"Shelley, your parents are only interested in your well being, they trust me, and you should too.. Come with me, I'll take you to a place where you'll be safe and we'll help you get healthy..."

"Fuck you! I'm fine! I don't need your "help"... I know all about you, you're gonna make me eat and get fat again, just like them!"

"Jack, hold onto her for a minute," I say to her father as I get the needle ready.

I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but I guess it's unavoidable.

"You fucking bastard, I hate you!" she says as I plunge it into her arm.

The next day, at the clinic, I check in with the duty nurse on her ward. "How's Shelley doing?"

"She still won't eat, Steve. Maybe if you talk to her..."

As I walk down the hall towards her room I think to myself: How has this world gotten so fucked up? America: the land of abundance and poverty, Obesity and anorexia. Parents so obese they have to shop for food on motorized scooters, with a daughter so obsessed with a body image generated by fashion magazines that she was literally starving herself to death...

"Hi Shelley, how are you feeling?"

"About the same as you'd be if some goons strapped you to a bed and stuck a tube of sugar water in your arm and left you to watch Fox TV all day! You asshole! What gives you the right to keep me here, you wanna make me fat like my Mama so I end up dying of a heat attack? I want out! Now!"

"Sorry Shelley, since you're still a minor your parent's signature gives me the right to keep you here as long as they think is neccessary. And I realize your folks may be killing themselves slowly with overeating, but by not eating at all you're putting yourself on the fast track for the big dirt sandwich that we all get to eat eventually... You need to find a balance for yourself, something betwween too much and not enough... I'll be back to see you later. I have other patients who want to live that I need to check on right now," I tell her as I walk away quickly, not giving her time to respond.

The next morning I check in: "How are you feeling today, Shelley. Hungry yet, or still into killing yourself?"

"If I agree to eat something, will you take this needle out of me so I can get up and walk around?"

"It depends on how long it takes you to recover, how much you can eat. It may take a few days of getting used to solid food before you have enough strength to get out of bed."

"Bullshit! I'm strong enough! I can get out of this bed right now if I want to!" she says.

"Be my guest," I say, as I loosen the straps on her arms.

She sits up, starts to slide her legs over the edge of the bed, but falls back, fighting not to faint from the effort. "Sorry... just a little dizzy..." she says.

"OK Shelley, I'll give you a couple minutes to rest, then you can arm-wrestle me to show me how strong you are..."

She starts to get angry, then calms herself. "OK Steve, you win... but I feel so helpless, what do I do now?"

"Shelley, If you are serious about living you must eat, begin to realize that food is not your enemy. Too much and not enough are both bad options. To paraphrase the old Harley motto, "Eat lo live, don't live to eat.""

"My ex-boyfriend rode a Hog, he'd kick your ass for saying something like that," she said, weakly laughing.

"He probably would," I agreed...