The ensuing intervention was difficult, as they surrounded Lax in the parking lot, insisted that she get in one of their cars, and go to the hospital. They even got her father on the phone when she proved uncooperative with the physician. But it was necessary. Lax was 79 pounds, had a heart rate that barely topped 30, and would have died if she had gone on like that.
That was in 2011. In 2014, Lax, now friends with the people who helped her, graduated with a doctorate in occupational therapy so that she could be on the other side of the eating disorder process. So let that be a lesson on risking an awkward conversation if you're certain it's the right thing to do. Or at least let it be a lesson on perhaps the only acceptable reason to swarm a woman you barely know in a parking lot in order to comment on her body.