July 25th - a very important blog - practically. And just a little magic, please...

Just a little magic. It’s not what I deserve but what I desire. Just one person who matters to take my story and believe me and trust that I’m true to my word. I just would want one person who believes me…not you guys. You guys (and in fairness a large majority of some people I speak to within the hospital wards who are patients) just trust me – a trust it took me a long time to deserve. And now I feel I warrant trust and belief – I’m telling the God’s honest 100% truth, the desire, the passion…Christ some snacks give me uncertainty. I’m obsessed by calories – yes – I’ve just been researching the calories in a Chupa Chups lolly…because it might be something I want and I’d need to know…or just because it’s habitual. But my obsession is because I WANT the calories. In principle, in practice – and if they think they know best and theirs is the only way then they are wrong. There are many pathways to the same place and right in this instance I feel I want someone to invest in me. I want someone to put their faith in me because I’d prove to them that their faith was well placed. And it doesn’t take a miracle. It doesn’t take a huge leap…

And I’m petrified because it’s weigh day. I’m starting this the night preceding it and then I’ll add more in the morning. And I feel like I’ve done it these few days. It’s just something that I sense this time – and I desperately don’t want to be proved wrong by getting on the scales tomorrow. I know I’ll sleep though – I sense that Drs will be round tomorrow and I worked out the other day how much clearer things became in the night without me thinking about it. My body’s way of preparing itself for any encounter and anything threatening is to restore and rejuvenate, recover and retreat into itself in order to find peace and relaxation. It’s almost like in my coma my body plays Tetris and slots all the pieces in the right order so that when I wake I just read the script. Mum works differently – she processes her stuff during awakeness (sometimes in the middle of the night). Health for her lies not in rest and relaxation – sleep – but alertness and preparation which must very much strategically be followed through, approached – begun – pursued – concluded. The whole thought process must be gone through before she is prepared and this must be done consciously. Neither is better – just different. So I know I’ll sleep so I’m ready – I hope Mum’s ready enough already not to need to stay awake and prepare. And God I hope beyond hope that I have a little bit of evidential back-up in my weight tomorrow morning…I’m bizarrely hopeful but nothing is predictable when I sit on those silly electric scales which are flimsy and liable to fluctuations of anything. Fingers crossed…

…this morning. Pam and Mel – who’s going to weigh me? Do I pre-empt it? I wrote that sentence last night. Now, this morning at 5:18am I’m feeling like I want to walk out there and ask to be weighed now. I know that that’s too early, however and that they probably won’t agree to do anything about it. I don’t know what to do though because at the end of the day I have no basis from which to work, to base my arguments and to structure my approach without news of the figure of weight gain that I have been able to achieve. I have never, not once, put on 0.8 per week and would dearly love to have done so this time. I would have to have gone some to put on 0.4 in three days when I’ve had three arduous physio sessions and an immense amount of stress arising from the concept of being transferred to Hayes Grove. And the weight I would have to have reached would be 33.95, and I just have no idea whether that was even feasible let alone whether I have achieved it.

And beyond that I cannot really think. I’m just moving through and trying to cope as best I can with the logistic of navigating the path which appears to be forever determined to throw down the gauntlet at any given time and shock and horrify me.

And are you ready for the horrifying shock of this morning. Good…

… 34.25 kilos…

…shit. I’m really doing this – and that’s because I’m building muscle mass with my Gym work, not just putting on fat through eating. Everything I consume is helping convert what I’ve already got to muscle, not put on added fats – that’s why I still look fairly thin. But hang on – 34.25 kilos = a BMI of 13.4! It also means I’ve put on 700 grams in 3 days. That’s fucking amazing and makes it 1.1 kilos in a week. (It’s, for normal language, 75.51 lbs (or 75lbs 8.13 ounces). This is 5 stone 5 lbs and 8 ounces. Nearly 5 and a half stone!!!

And the stupid thing is that it may not make a blind bit of difference to where I end up and what they want to do with me. But it does make a difference to me. I’m doing enough. Somehow, somewhere I’m succeeding and that makes me overjoyed. But it speeds up my progression to a healthy BMI which dictates discharge. I should be delighted but as I’m so uncertain about what the future holds with regard to location there is no pleasure there in bringing discharge closer. Bringing total health closer – there is total joy at. And yesterday in the gym I began to remember what having actual strength was like – pre-weight loss, pre all of this when I used to dance and run and have muscular mass which performed activities rather than tendons and jerky body limbs which I managed (just about) to move. I began to feel actual muscles – and that felt familiar but also illuminated how far away true strength is. And yet the weight this morning encourages me that this is a perfect environment, with the perfect facilities, in which to perform the task I am undertaking (have been given, whatever you want to say). It can only help my case to demonstrate how obviously and materially it is ‘working’ with all the things set up and in place here. And it won’t take me long here – and then I’ll be off their backs, their caseloads and they can chalk me up as a recovery on their tables…oh gosh I still pray for that magical one person (Dr Sinha/Dr McKlusky) to give me a chance, a shot and the benefit of the doubt…because it's now only their doubt, not mine.