One year. That’s how long it’s been since Katie was admitted to Children’s Hospital, when her journey to recovery from anorexia nervosa really started.
It will be a year tomorrow since that awful phone call telling me that Katie had been moved to the ICU and I should get there as soon as I could.
How is that even possible? How has it only been a year? On one hand, this feels like the longest year of my life, yet on the other hand, those first days in the hospital are still so fresh in my mind.
A year full of doctor’s appointments, trips to Calgary, medication changes and food plans. Host homes, specialists and treatment plans.
A year of tears and prayers. A year of learning to lean on others, learning to admit that I can’t do it on my own, that I need help.
One year. 365 days.
I wish I could say that this last year is part of the history books now, that anorexia is just part of our past. But that’s the thing with mental illness – it hangs on. It lingers.
We’re still driving back and forth to Calgary to see doctors and specialists. Katie’s meal plan still dictates meals in our home. We’re still struggling.
But, it is one year later. Last year this time Katie was in bed rest in Children’a Hospital, on her way to the ICU. Today she is in Whitefish with friends, enjoying a weekend away.
Thank you, Father – thank you isn’t enough. A year ago I was on my knees, pleading for my child’s life, and today she is home – driving my vehicle, doing homework, getting ready to graduate in June. All the things a 17 year old Grade 12 student should be doing.
One year. This has truly been the year of the Lord’s favor in my house, and I’m so thankful.