Monday, April 15, 2013

School Obesity Programs May Promote Worrisome Eating Behaviors and Physical Activity in Kids

Jan. 27, 2012 — In a new poll, 30% of parents report at least one worrisome behavior in their children that could be associated with the development of eating disorders.
A new report from the C.S. Mott Children's Hospital National Poll on Children's Health examines the possible association between school-based childhood obesity prevention programs and an increase in eating disorders among young children and adolescents.
The poll asked parents about obesity prevention programs in their children's schools and about food-related behaviors and activity that may be worrisome.
Overall, 82 percent of parents of children age 6-14 report at least one school-based childhood obesity intervention program taking place in their child's school. Among these programs are nutrition education, limits on sweets or "junk food" in the classroom, height and weight measurements, and incentives for physical activity.
Additionally, 7 percent of parents report that their children have been made to feel bad at school about what or how much they were eating.
This same group of parents was also asked about their children's eating behaviors. Thirty percent of parents of 6-14 year-olds report least one behavior in their children that could be associated with the development of an eating disorder. These behaviors include inappropriate dieting, excessive worry about fat in foods, being preoccupied with food content or labels, refusing family meals, and having too much physical activity.
"The issue of childhood obesity is a serious problem. In order to intervene in what seems like an epidemic of childhood obesity, everyone needs to be involved," says David Rosen, M.D., M.P.H., Clinical Professor of Pediatrics, Internal Medicine, and Psychiatry at the University of Michigan Medical School and Chief of Teenage and Young Adult Medicine in the Department of Pediatrics.
However, Rosen says, "When obesity interventions are put in place without understanding how they work and what the risks are, there can be unintended consequences. Well-intentioned efforts can go awry when children misinterpret the information they're given.
"Many of these behaviors are often dismissed as a phase," says Rosen, "But given what we know about the association of these behaviors with the development of eating disorders and knowing that eating disorders are increasing in prevalence, they should be taken very seriously."
Parents that report incentive programs at their children's school to increase physical activity are more likely to say their children are "too physically active" (11%) compared with parents who do not report incentives for physical activity at their child's school (4%). Otherwise, the poll did not find an association between school-based obesity prevention programs and other worrisome eating behaviors among children.
The fact that 30% of parents report at least one worrisome eating behavior in their children is concerning.
"It's much better and safer for parents to respond to worrisome eating behaviors early -- even if there turns out to be no problem -- than to wait until there is obviously a big problem,' Rosen says. "It is much easier to prevent an eating disorder than it is to treat an eating disorder."
Rosen offers these suggestions for parents:
1. Be attentive to your children's eating habits. If you see behaviors that are worrisome to you, talk to your children about them. If the behaviors escalate, involve your child's doctor.
2. Find out what your children's schools are doing to prevent childhood obesity. Be involved and engaged in that process.
3. Ask your children if they're being teased at school about their food choices or their weight. If they are, go to the school and find out what is happening.

Friday, April 12, 2013

Night Baker finds strength, healing in blog readers By Candice Madsen March 11th, 2013


 The Night Baker Video
 
OREM — For a Utah woman battling anorexia, sharing her story with the world ultimately helped save her life.
It's been five months since KSL met Camilla Kuhns — known in the blogosphere as the Night Baker. Camilla bakes and blogs in hopes of raising enough money to overcome her anorexia for good.
Camilla checked into the Center for Change in Orem, not knowing how long she'd be able to afford to stay. Treatment costs $900 a day.
But Camilla said the generosity of family, friends and strangers who follow her blog kept the money and support coming, giving her the funds and the strength to fight for her life.
I'm so much more fun and I enjoy things more. I am excited about my life and that is so much better than being skinny.
–Camilla Kuhns, Night Baker
Five months ago, doctors told Camilla she could have a heart attack at any moment. Her eating disorder has controlled her life for 18 long years.
"This has been a crutch for me for so long," she said. "I just feel like I'm losing my crutch."
Camilla entered treatment terrified to let go of the habits that were killing her. But now, five months later, she has a new take on life.
"I feel so much better," she said. "I'm so much more fun and I enjoy things more. I am excited about my life and that is so much better than being skinny."
Her family is grateful to have this Camilla back.
"I have my daughter back," said David Kuhns, Camilla's father. "She is fun. She's energetic. She's all the things that I knew she was."
Camilla said treatment wasn't easy. She wanted to quit many times, but she knew people all over the world were praying for her.
My dream as a child was to grow up and not be an anorexic woman. I'm getting back to that person who has other dreams, better dreams, and it is just a really good feeling.
–Camilla
"They really saved my life by following the blog and reminding me that I had an audience and that it wasn't just about me," she said.
Camilla didn't realize the full impact she'd had on others until she met a woman who went into treatment because of Camilla's story.
"It's so humbling because this woman is so incredible and she has a family and she is so successful," she said. "I though that if this is the only person who saw my story and got anything out of it then it was so worth any ridicule I've gotten from sharing my blog."
Camilla hasn't completely conquered her eating disorder.
"It's still there and it yells at me sometimes, but I feel like my voice is louder now," she said.
For the first time in almost twenty years, Camilla said she finally feels in control of her future.
"My dream as a child was to grow up and not be an anorexic woman," she said. "I'm getting back to that person who has other dreams, better dreams, and it is just a really good feeling."
Camilla will receive a few more weeks of outpatient treatment at a center in Arizona as she makes the transition back into the real world.

 

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

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Recovery Day Program Patient Testimonial



Ramey Nutrition is a good fit from my recovery because theprogram allows me to live in a real world setting while being in the recoveryprocess. Yes, I will admit, this hasn’t been anywhere near easy and I believethat is why I have had an intense time adjusting to there being more “freedom”with my recovery. This is something that I am DEFINITELY not used to with onlyexperiencing inpatient, residential and Partial Hospitalization Programs (PHP).When I did go to another program, it was acclaimed to be PHP, although it feltmore like I was trapped in a place and I HAD to recover. Being here at RameyNutrition I have the choice to recover. I am scared shitless of gaining weight,fearful of finding my true self. Having those feelings come up, having to facethem is something I am going to experience while I recover. It’s not going tobe easy or fun, and I am ready to be uncomfortable with eating and keeping fooddown. I am taking the next step to gain weight because I want my lifeback. I want to live, be happy, and spend time with my family.
I WANT LIFE AND I WANT ME BACK!!!!
            I am going to do everything in mypower to get that back. By committing myself to that, I WILL:
·        Eat
·        Gainweight
·        Goto therapy
·        Workmy ass off day in and day out, every second to be closer to life
·        Bereal, honest, open, authentic
·        Havedifficult days, struggle AND get through them, continuing to push forward
I am tired of dying and I am going to start living byreviving myself and I truly believe without a doubt that Ramey Nutrition is theplace for recovery and regaining my life back.

-         A.D.
Ramey Nutrition Recovery Day Program Patient



Recovery in Motion!



I am capable of greatness beyond my expectations. I am limiting my conviction because I feel trapped.

I am creating and owing my life. I am appreciating that my life is greater than my expectations; my strength beyond measure. I am unlimited potential and am investing 100% of myself in each moment until death comes...however it may. 
-AW, Ramey Nutrition Recovery Day Program

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Friday, April 5, 2013

From 58 pounds to thriving By Chelsea Roff


Watch this video

How yoga helped an anorexic recover

STORY HIGHLIGHTS
  • Chelsea Roff nearly died from severe anorexia and its complications
  • She spent 16 months in Children's Medical Center Dallas
  • She says she was lucky to get enough resources to put her life back together
  • Now, Roff wants her story to be a "beacon of hope" for others who might be suffering
Editor's note: In the Human Factor, we profile survivors who have overcome the odds. Confronting a life obstacle -- injury, illness or other hardship -- they tapped their inner strength and found resilience they didn't know they possessed. This week we introduce you to Chelsea Roff, who had a stroke at 15 brought on by her severe anorexia. At the time she arrived at Children's Medical Center Dallas, she weighed 58 pounds. Now 23, Roff is a writer, speaker and yoga instructor.
(CNN) -- The first emotion I remember is rage. It was a violent, fire-in-your-veins, so angry-you-could-kill-someone kind of rage.
I wanted out. I wanted the pain to be over. I wanted to die. I was mad at myself for not having the courage to just do it quickly, angry at the hospital staff for thwarting my masked attempt.
I was convinced that I was "meant to" endure this, that my long, drawn-out starving to death would prove my willpower to God. In the days prior to my stroke, I'd had vivid hallucinations -- of Jesus on a wooden cross outside my bedroom window and a satanic figure sneaking up under my bedroom covers to suffocate me at night. I thought I was meant to be a martyr. I thought God wanted me to die.
As the fury subsided, delirium set in. I became confused, defiant and completely irrational. I told the doctors that they couldn't possibly keep me overnight, because my family didn't have insurance or money to pay. When a cardiologist responded that she wasn't sure if I'd live another week, I told her she was full of s---.
I hid the food they were trying to make me eat in my underwear, in flowerpots, even in my cheeks like a chipmunk -- certain no one would notice. I didn't want to get better. I was convinced nothing was wrong.
I remember having nurses turn me over in the middle of the night to tend to the bed sores on my behind, places where the skin was so thin that my tailbone was starting to protrude through the flesh.
I remember waking up to discover I'd wet the bed nearly every morning for the first three months I was hospitalized. I was ashamed, disgusted. I'd lost control of the muscles in my bladder; I was like an infant all over again. I remember shooting a nurse the bird when she told me I couldn't walk, only to crumble to the floor when I angrily pushed the wheelchair away to give it a try.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, my arrival at the hospital had launched an investigation by Child Protective Services back at my home in Austin. The caseworkers deemed my mother an "unfit parent" and my sister and I were placed under custodianship of the state. My care was left to the doctors and nurses at Children's, while my sister was sent to live with our godparents. My mother, herself an alcoholic and anorexic, had literally drunk herself into oblivion (she was later diagnosed with Wernicke's Syndrome, a form of alcohol-induced dementia).
I spent the next 16 months of my life in that hospital. I completed my junior and senior years of high school through a distance education program, talked my way through hundreds of hours of individual and group therapy and slowly, painfully worked to bring my body and mind back to life.
When Medicaid finally pulled the plug on funding for my treatment, I was unrecognizable from the day I'd walked in. I'd gained nearly 40 pounds, and the feisty, fiercely independent spirit I'd been known for as a child was on her way back in (close to) full force.
Although I was still significantly underweight and terrified to leave the security of the hospital, my medical team managed to convince the caseworkers to grant me emancipation. At 17, I re-entered the "real world" as a legally recognized adult.
My doctor at Children's helped me make arrangements to move into a garage apartment with a close family friend near the hospital. I got a job at a local Starbucks, started applying for college, and, by the grace of who-knows-what, was offered almost free weekly therapy by a psychologist who'd treated me at Children's.
Three months later, I took my first yoga class. I was lucky. I was blessed. I was given enough resources to put the fragments of my broken life back together.

My hope is that my story might serve as a beacon of hope for people grappling with their own inner demons in silence and isolation. Whether it's an eating disorder, abandonment, depression or addiction, please know:
There is a way out. You don't have to suffer alone. There are people out there who want to love you, who would be honored to bear witness to your pain. Healing doesn't happen in a vacuum. We are human and we have an inherent need to see and be seen, to touch and be touched. No one heals heartbreak alone.
For the broader community, I hope this story will diminish some of the stigma and misperceptions about eating disorders. Many of us have been taught that people with eating disorders simply want to be skinny, feel like they have to look like supermodels to be worth anything, or just have an unhealthy "need for control." Those are all symptoms of an eating disorder, not the cause.
I realized that I feel like a child who was once desperately thirsty, who was given enough water to survive and shake her thirst, and now feels compelled to go out and give water to anyone who's parched. "Look! Water! I know, isn't it good?! Drink up!!" When I see people drink the water, I can't even describe the feeling -- it's as if I'm experiencing the first sip all over again. It brings me incredible joy, even healing. It's an act of alchemy. It allows me to make light of some of the darkest days of my life.
I once had a therapist who, when asked how I could ever repay her for all she'd given me, told me: "Your life will be all the thanks I need." This is how I thank her. This is how I thank all those who helped me find my way out of the darkness. Share the water.

What Losing 180 Pounds Really Does To Your Body — & Your Mind By Jen Larsen

The doctor said, “It’ll be nice to be able to walk down the aisle of an airplane, right? To fit down the aisle, and to not see that look of horror when someone sees you coming.”

He said that because I weighed 300 pounds. He said that because he thought that all I wanted in life was to not be that creeping horror, shuffling sideways to the back of the plane, trying not to make eye contact with anyone because I didn’t want to see their relief when I passed by. Trying not to make eye contact with the person in my row because I didn’t want to see horror, and I really didn’t want to see pity, and I really didn’t want someone to lean over and explain to me that I was fat and that there are things I could do about it. Like water and jogging, or carrots and the Thighmaster.

He said that like it was a fact about all fat people. All fat people hate themselves. All fat people know that what’s good in life is really only accessible to thin people. Thin is the most important variable in of life’s equations. Thin equals happy, thin equals beautiful, thin equals a life worth living.

The most embarrassing fact of my life — and oh, how many embarrassing facts there are in my life — is that it was true. I was angry at him for saying it, for buying into the cliché of the fat person. For assuming that my life would transform immediately. Because he was saying all the things I had secretly thought. He was reinforcing all the secret fantasies I had about the way everything about me would be more amenable and lovable and acceptable to the whole rest of the world. To everyone on airplanes and everyone in my life. To myself. When I lost all the weight. When I got weight loss surgery.

He was my psychological consultant, the doctor who was tasked with clearing me for surgery. He signed off my mental and emotional fitness to get a surgery that I genuinely believed was going to save my life. Not just physically — though I was actually damn healthy — but emotionally.

And, three months later I got weight loss surgery. Seven months later I had lost over a hundred pounds; a year and a half from my surgery date, I had lost about 180 pounds.


I lost a lot of things along with the weight. I lost my sense of self. My sense of proportion. My sense of dignity, of maturity, of control. I was skinny, but my life wasn’t suddenly and magically perfect—and that completely astonished me. It sounds ridiculous, having really fallen for the fairy tale of weight loss. But I had fallen for it completely, and then was blinded by the egregious lack of a happily ever after.

The nature of the weight loss surgery I got is that you can completely ignore the things the doctors tell you to do. They say, exercise, don’t drink, don’t smoke, eat well. And you don’t bother to do any of that, but still lose weight. You still lose every pound you want to lose, and then some.

The problem was that I lost all those pounds, but I didn’t have to change a goddamn thing about my self. I didn’t have to address any of the emotional or psychological issues. I didn’t have to figure out why I had been depressed — why I was still so, so depressed, despite the fact that the one thing I thought had been ruining my life was suddenly gone.

I was skinny, finally, and I was fascinated by the physicality of it. It was like my skeleton had floated up to the surface from the bottom of a murky pond. I had muscles and tendons and bones and in the shower I’d soap the ridges of my ribs, the knobs of my hipbones, and be amazed to make their acquaintance. It wasn’t pretty—I lost so much weight that I didn’t look like myself, and then I lost past that, to the point where I looked like a sick stranger. Briefly, I was a size two. Sometimes I was disappointed that I couldn’t be a size zero.

It doesn’t go away, you see. I thought that my body was wrong when I was obese; I thought my body was wrong when I was thin past the point of health. I thought there was something wrong with my body whatever I looked like, because there’s always just one more thing to fix before I look perfect, feel good in bed with hands on my body, feel sexy in a dress or a bathing suit, feel comfortable in my skin.


I felt helpless before. I tried to dodge out of the feeling by getting weight loss surgery, and now I’m angry. That I wasn’t fixed, yes. But also that so many people deal with this, this exact and pervasive struggle at whatever size they are, whatever shape, whatever they do. That we’re not good enough, with the implication that the best we have to offer to the world is an appropriately sized pair of jeans.

Magazine articles about body image talk about loving yourself despite your flaws. Sometimes they get really radical and they talk about loving yourself because of your flaws, and that is supposed to be empowering. And it pisses me off, because we’re talking about flaws here. A body that doesn’t look like the body of a Victoria’s Secret model is a flawed factory reject. My thighs aren’t the thighs of a figure skater, so they’re not good enough, but I should love the flubby little things anyway because I am so incredibly self-compassionate.

I want this: I want to say, don’t love yourself even though you’re not perfect — love yourself because you have a body and it’s worth loving and it is perfect. Be healthy, which is perfect at whatever size healthy is and at whatever size happy is.

And of course that’s totally easy and I have just caused a revolution in body image. Let’s all go home now.

Right. So, I don’t know what the answer is, and I don’t know how to make it happen, and I don’t know what to do except keep yelling about it, wherever I can. Saying there’s no magic number, and there’s no perfect size — and of course you know that, but we have to keep telling each other because it’s hard to remember sometimes. We have to keep saying it. We have to figure out how to believe it.