The ER, Tears, Laughter and Letting the Father Love Us

My heart is heavy. A dear friend is greatly suffering and I wish I could go through recovery again so she wouldn’t have to feel the pain she is experiencing right now. Saturday evening I got a call from a friend (who I’m going to call Molly). I was supposed to be babysitting, but the mom cancelled because she was sick. And moments before I saw Molly’s number on my blackberry I was going to turn my phone off because I was going to bed, but something told me to leave it on. So I did. I left it on my bed actually, right next to my pillow as if I was expecting an important call, which I wasn’t. I mean I welcome phone calls, but don’t like sleeping with my phone on because I get my email sent to my phone (well I guess most people do now a days) and the little beeps signaling new emails wake me up at night.

But something was different about that night and I was about to find out what the next 15 hours would have in store for Molly and I. My phone rang. It was Molly and I answered. I knew something was wrong by the sound of her voice. She said she needed to go to the ER. I jumped out of bed, put on the jeans laying on my desk chair, grabbed my keys and was out the door. Molly said she could go by herself. I told her I wouldn’t let her and asked her to let me love her by taking her.

I started praying the Rosary as I drove to her house, but got distracted by the decades and just prayed Hail Mary’s. I didn’t know what I would find when I got there and was nervous. We packed up her things, got in my car and drove to the ER. Once inside they asked her various questions and we were taken to a stretcher in the hallway, as the ER rooms were already full. It was 10pm.

Molly is severely struggling with an eating disorder and the attending physician said it would be hours before the psychiatrist would be able to give her a consult. We decided to make the best of our time there and played Adele and Marie Miller’s music from Molly’s lab top. We let nurses bring us heated blankets as they made jokes when asking who the patient was, since we were both sitting on the stretcher. One of the nurses thought for sure we had coordinated our visits to the ER, and we joked back saying there was no other place we would rather be at 2am. But, as vitals were taken and blood drawn we knew the severity of the visit.

So we didn’t just joke around. We got serious. We both knew why we were there, the pain is just a little to familiar for both our liking. Molly asked me questions about how I recovered. And I told her. We cried together.

The psychiatrist came to see Molly at 3:30am. I walked out of the ER, into the waiting room as they talked. I tried to stay seated, but pacing felt more comfortable. I paced the waiting room for a while, then sat down. I wept. My heart really ached for Molly.

She called me when they were done and I walked into the ER again. It was 4:10am. This time we really got serious in our conversation. She asked me what was the turning point in my recovery. And I told her.

I was sitting in a quiet Church holding onto my eating disorder with every ounce of strength within me. Then I gave it to God, and I mean I really gave it to God. I told Him I wanted to be healthy. I told Him I wanted to be the weight He wanted me to be. I told Him I wanted to feel His love. I told Him I would put away the scale and trust in Him. Was I scared, Molly asked. I was scared out of my mind, I said.

I told her how I view it –  See God gives us all free will, but desperately wants us to choose Him. He wants us to make the right choice – eating three meals a day, not abusing exercise, not purging or bingeing etc. But He can’t force us to make that choice. We have to want it. I told Molly I wished I could give her that resolve to fight and make the right choice, but I can’t. Everyone needs to make that choice for themselves. He is waiting right next to us, hoping we choose Him over an eating disorder. When we say No, He still stays close. But when we say Yes to Him, that is when He takes over and turns the mess we have made into beauty. Yes, we need to fight, but the battle is easier with the King of Kings fighting right beside us.

After two failed attempts to find coffee, and one successful mission we left the ER at 11am. Molly boarded a plane that afternoon to a recovery center and I am so proud of her. She is a fighter and God is going to bestow tremendous graces upon her for her bravery. I just got off the phone with her this evening and she made it through the first full day of treatment!!! Can I get a drum roll please? She knows the work that lies ahead, but she is hopefully, and that hope is beautiful.

Please keep Molly in your prayers. I would be so grateful to you. I am going to send her mail several times throughout the week, so if you feel moved to write her a note of encouragement, please do so. You can send me the notes at IfightHimwithlove@gmail.com and I will mail them to her. You don’t have to personally know her to offer comfort and support.

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