The Initial Assessment

I stated in my bio that I’m a recovering alcoholic as well as bulimic, so I think it’s about time I share a little about how alcohol abuse showed up in my life. For that, let's journey back to my first assessment at Melrose Center in St. Louis Park, MN, where I ended up going for eating disorder treatment.

My assessment was early on a Monday morning, so like the good little alcoholic I am, I drank myself to sleep on Sunday night to ease my nerves. I have a brief memory of crawling into my parent’s bed like a small child who had a nightmare, and sobbing. That’s about it from that night.   The appointment was on the other side of town, and I had to get my blood drawn at a lab beforehand so my mom and I were out of the house bright and early.

We drove the half hour to the lab for the blood draw, and sat in the most hectic waiting room I’ve ever been in, I felt like I was sitting in grand Central Station. We didn’t speak to each other in the car or in the waiting room; this was unusual for us. Finally, my name was called and I pasted a  smile on my face and hopped in the chair I was directed to where they wrapped my arm in a rubber binder then took four extremely large vials of blood. Seriously, they were so large; the size of a hot dog. I can’t believe they can just take that much blood from you; I wonder if anyone’s ever gotten into a car accident after having their blood drawn and died from blood loss at the scene since they were missing so much blood, even before the accident. If you have an information on this, feel free to let me know.

While my blood was being drawn, I was quite nervous and did what I normally do when I’m nervous, I made an uncomfortable joke. As the technician drew the fourth vial, I made eye contact with her and asked if she could fill another one so that I could give it to my boyfriend to wear on a chain around his neck. Who doesn’t love a good Angelina Jolie and Tommy Lee reference? Well, apparently, that technician did not. She started at me for, what seemed like, an incredibly long few seconds before turning away and finishing up.

After that was taken care of we headed to Melrose for the actual evaluation, of which I do not remember many specifics. I know they asked about specific symptom use and how frequent it was, which I was honest about. I wanted to get better; to be cured of bulimia. I also know they asked about my drug and alcohol use. I was not as truthful about that, but I also didn’t think it was very relevant. I said I drank on weekends like a normal college student, that I took Adderall once in a blue moon, smoked a little pot, and only took my Klonopin as prescribed. I thought these were all white lies that wouldn’t make a big difference, and I think I was believable.

Unfortunately, that blood test came back to bite me in the ass. Turns out, one of things they looked at was my blood alcohol concentration (BAC). The evaluator came back in the room and told me he had a couple issues with what I told him about my alcohol use. The first was that my BAC was .29 an hour earlier when they did the lab draw. Per www.intheknow.com at a BAC of .25-.30 Drinkers display general inertia, near total loss of motor functions, little response to stimuli, inability to stand or walk, vomiting, and incontinence. Drinkers may lose consciousness or fall into a stupor. This brings up his second issue; while having a BAC of .29 he couldn’t even tell I was drunk. Apparently I had built up quite the tolerance.; I didn’t feel even the slightest bit drunk.

I was told that I should go to drug and alcohol treatment, which I immediately refused. I thought they were idiots and that wasn’t my problem. I convinced myself and my parents in the following days that I had only been drinking so much recently because I couldn’t deal with my eating disorder. Melrose would only take me after I had been sober for at least 4 days though, and I wanted to be there. I did some wheeling and dealing with my parents because I did not want to go to a hospital to detox, looking back this was both idiotic and dangerous. I spent the next 4 days straight wide awake and detoxing at my parents’ house. I was never left alone, even at night my Dad slept out in the living room with me, and all alcohol in my house was locked in the trunk of my dad’s car. Just because I wasn’t drinking, didn’t mean they weren’t and it had to be readily available to them. After four of the most miserable days of my existence, I finally began my journey at Melrose.