Yesterday I received a phone call. One I have been expecting for around a week. Let me first describe the preliminary ordeal which has led me to this particular telephone conversation.
I was referred to a specialist team to for an assessment around my ED. I arrived at the office, terrified as I knew the questions I was required to answer. However, during my 20 minute assessment (That's right... 20 minutes) the questions weren't asked. The assessor didn't really ask me much at all about my ED.
I left the building, feeling hopeful that there would be enough information in there to support my referral to the specialist eating disorders service. My hope was misplaced.
I waited for three weeks with no letter, call or even any incling of what was happening. So I called the specialist service and asked what was happening (I might add that during this time and currently my ED is getting progressively worse).
The call left me in tears. Apparently there was not enough information in my assessment and I had to wait until the doctor who did my initial assessment gave them the information. Which I knew meant having to wait at least a week for a call from him, as he only works on Mondays and Tuesdays.
Anyway, the ending is reasonably happy. I received this call yesterday, and answered the questions which I knew I should have been asked in the first place. I asked what would happen if I didn't meet the criteria, and joked with the distant man on the phone that they might say "Come back to us in 6 months when you weigh 6 stone". But my joke was edged with a little genuine fear.
What if I don't meet their criteria? What if I haven't jumped accurately through their ridiculous diagnostic hoops? What will happen to me?
From Under the Ivy Tree: Snippets of confusion from a life more ordinary
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