I ended up seeing the dietician twice and my GP twice, even though I only had the one appointment to start with.
When I saw her on Tuesday, the dietician suggested 6-weekly weigh ins, which I'm not too sure about yet, but I guess I've got a month to think about it.
I told her about last weekend, when mum and I had gotten into an... intense disagreement (about food, no less), and my brother actually stepped in and spoke to us separately, first me crying on the kitchen floor, then her outside.
I didn't tell her about them freaking out when they came back inside and saw me sitting with three different boxes of meds, searching for a PRN that would help.
Note: I didn't take a huge amount - I just didn't want to stand at the medicine cupboard and sort through everything - although it did add up to a bit much throughout the day.
But they panicked and inspected packets and tried to figure out how many were there before. Mum 'offered' to take control of my meds again, but for whatever reason, I've been pissy about that since we've been clashing lately.
That said, the next morning I couldn't remember much at all from after the breakdown, but apparently I got restless legs from hell and was unable to move about by myself for a few hours.
Then on Thursday, I made an appointment to see the dietician again because I was having such a low day and really needed to talk to someone.
The same thing had happened with my meds, but I didn't think much of it.
She said I looked a lot worse than when she'd seen me two days prior. Concerned, she went to get my GP, who asked me to wait with the dietician while she finished with a patient.
The GP took my blood pressure a few times, sitting and standing, as well as drawing bloods herself right then because it was too busy for me to go to pathology. I was kinda irked because my bonus for getting on the scales last week was not having a blood test this month.
Blood pressure: 90/65, 51/33 standing
"Do I need to tell your mum to take control of your meds?"
It's only in the last year or two that mum has returned my meds to the medicine cabinet after being in hiding since a nasty overdose nearly ten years ago (oh god, I'm getting old).
I had to make an appointment to go back the next day to show my blood pressure was improving and my blood tests were clear, otherwise she was going to call an ambulance. She said I was very close to an admission, but even then, I didn't see what the big deal was. I'd just taken a couple of extra PRNs - wasn't it a good thing I was actually using them for once?
Clinical note on my pathology request read: "Anorexia, recent neglect."
(Self-neglect, I should add)
The dietician wanted to give me one of those pre-mixed Ensures, but said I'd have one when I got home. I ended up falling asleep by 4:30, after a 2:30 appointment, and sleeping for a solid 10 hours for the first time in an age. But I had one yesterday, so I guess that's close enough.
In the morning, I'd forgotten most of the day. It hit me like a tonne of bricks when I remembered her ultimatum of improvement-or-hospital, and saw I did indeed have an appointment in my calendar for 9:30am.
Thankfully, my bloods were okay, white cells aside, and my blood pressure was back to a reasonable level. When I pulled up my sleeve for the cuff, I still had the crumpled tape and cotton ball in the crook of my elbow, forgotten.
She was going to contact the dietician to let her know I was okay. I just feel like an asshole for worrying them. I just wanted someone to talk to. It was entirely incidental that my PRN intake even came out.