The "You're Not Fat" Campaign

I wake up strapped to a stretcher. My face hurts and my arms hurt and my throat hurts and everything just hurts. My fingernails feel strange and I crane my head up and see that they have dried blood underneath them and I shudder.

The stretcher begins to move. I hear my mom's shuddering breath and the squeaksqueaksqueak of the stretcher's wheels. A nurse comes into view and her face is a mixture of pity and shock and revulsion, and I am mortified.