By DIANA PADDOCK

dpaddock@timesobserver.com

She was full of confidence, the life of the party, a Victoria’s Secret model.

She had everything to live for.

But her anorexia and bulimia – 22 years of it – killed Kathleen Shea.

She was enamored of Hollywood and all the hope it held from the time she was about 10 when her father, a health and physical education teacher packed up the family and drove them across the country – a 32-day trip the parents describe as wonderful and the children remember just enduring.

“I have seen nothing but corn, corn, corn!”, Kathleen decried on the trip. But when they hit Hollywood, she loved the west coast, the weather, the glamour.

In high school, Kathleen was fun and popular.

“I was always jealous of her,” said her sister, Jennifer Wortman. “She was so outgoing. She and her friends had so much fun.”

“I always thought, ‘why didn’t I enjoy high school as much as she did?’,” Jennifer shared. “Why can’t I have all that confidence?”

But there were moments.

Kathleen was devastated that she was not named homecoming queen as a senior in high school, “normal teenage stuff,” Jennifer believed.

“She was highly intelligent,” her mother, Susan Shea, said, “but she didn’t believe in herself.”

Kathleen’s brother, Tobin, two years her junior, said he noticed Kathleen’s obsession with weight in high school, but the glaring symptoms did not become apparent until several years later.

As soon as she was able – at 19 – Kathleen headed to Hollywood.

“It was always her dream, ever since she was little,” Susan said. “She had a lot of confidence. She didn’t know anyone in California.”

“She didn’t want to go to college,” added her father, Toby, “She always watched the Academy Awards, read the magazines. But, she was too young (at 19) to go into the jungle.”

In California, Kathleen “ran into a guy who took her down,” destroying her self-esteem, her mother shared.

And the disease began to take hold.

The family suspected when Jennifer said she heard Kathleen throwing up in the bathroom while she was home for Jennifer’s wedding, New Year’s Eve 1993.

We talked. “What’s going on?” Jennifer said, but it was a busy time, and Kathleen was good even then at hiding her disease.

Kathleen returned to California – with, they later found out, the abusive boyfriend.

Two years later, the family traveled to California to see Penn State play Oregon in the Rose Bowl. By then, Jennifer and her husband, David, had a baby, John, for whom Kathleen was godmother. They and Kathleen’s parents, Toby and Susan Shea, flew to the west coast for a visit and the game. Tobin, Kathleen’s brother, also had moved to California.

By then, Kathleen’s disease had escalated significantly, Jennifer said.

Kathleen was in and out of treatment facilities for her eating disorders – anorexia and bulimia nervosa – for more than 20 years; the family estimates nine or ten times.

Susan counted on her fingers, UCLA twice, Malibu once, Western Psych three times, Renfrew twice

“She did the best there,” at Renfrew, Jennifer said.

Kathleen would respond to treatment temporarily, but she also learned tricks from the other patients like brushing your teeth after throwing up so your teeth wouldn’t rot from the acid of the vomit, and how to use laxatives.

Systemic problems – finances and insurance – made advanced treatment difficult, although the family paid a great deal of money for Kathleen’s rehabilitation. The Malibu facility was $14,000 a week. And, it was a complicated process getting Kathleen into the state system (Medicaid) when she returned home five years ago.

One facility charged $240 for a piece of Nicorette gum.

“Talk about insurance abuse,” Jennifer said.

But, more devastating than the red tape, insurance and cost of care, was the irresponsible, reprehensible actions of some who were entrusted with Kathleen’s care.

Susan explained that Kathleen would see a therapist and understandably become attached to them emotionally.

It was during a visit to UCLA, when Kathleen’s father, Toby, traveled to California to participate in her counseling sessions, that Kathleen admitted the doctor there was “hitting on her,” Toby said angrily. “He was a creep!”

Kathleen finally agreed to come home to Warren about five years ago so her family could help her recover and be sure she was getting the care she needed.

But Kathleen was lost in the grip of her illness and gradually declined.

Last spring, Susan admitted her fears.

“We’re going to lose her,” she remembered. “She’s going down, down, down.”

It was at that time Kathleen admitted to Jennifer that she wanted to die.

She was not capable of making smart decisions by then, said her sister. “That’s why it’s so important in these cases to have an advocate.”

Kathleen had good days and bad days, but she was deteriorating. In July Jennifer carried her to the doctor, in her arms, “like a baby.” Her skin was peeling. She was bruised from head to toe. (Anorexia causes problems with skin and hair because of vitamin and mineral deficiencies, malnutrition and dehydration, according to edreferral.com.)

A few days after her doctor’s appointment, Kathleen was admitted to the hospital, and a kaleidoscope of pain, confusion, hope and desperation – holding onto every moment – began.

“Everyone had a different opinion” about her care, Jennifer said.

They tried to move Kathleen to Philadelphia where she could receive care specific to her eating disorders, but she was too frail. They finally moved her to UPMC Hamot.

Even there, she “was the life of the party,” Toby said. “The nurses loved her.”

As Kathleen stabilized and even said she felt she had a purpose for life, the family dared to hope for recovery.

“You don’t give up. You always have that hope,” Toby said.

“I said, I will never give up on you, never,” Susan shared. “I told her, ‘do you know what 40 more years to your life could be?!'”

But, her illness was too far advanced. She died on Aug. 14, 2014, at UPMC Hamot. The brief respite had given the family a chance to enjoy time together and for Kathleen’s brother, Tobin, to visit from California.

“Those 10 days in Erie were a gift,” Jennifer said.

As the family looks back on Kathleen’s life, they laugh and share memories of her intelligence and quick wit.

“She was super funny,” Jennifer said, laughing.

“She said she should be a stand-up comic,” Susan said, laughing. “She could even do a bit about her eating disorder … driving down the road when the laxatives kicked in …”

Kathleen had a special relationship with her godson John Wortman.

“It’s a tragedy that it happened,” John said. “But, as touching as it is, her story is not unique.”

So many people are impacted by eating disorders, suicide, depression, schizophrenia, LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender) issues, he said “It’s so frustrating. There is such a stigma …” People are not getting the care and treatment they need.

In Kathleen’s case, eating disorders have to be stopped early, John said. “She actually went longer than most. Most die in their early 30s.”

John believes family support – what he witnessed with his family with Kathleen – is imperative in cases of disease and mental illness.

“Family members want to put their foot down,” John said, “say, I’m not going to do anything for you.”

“Then they die,” John said, and there are regrets.

“Regardless, even if they are making decisions you don’t agree with,” John said, support them.

As the family looks back on Kathleen’s illness, they know they did everything they could to help her. Her parents could not have stopped her from moving to California. She was determined to make it there.

“She had the very best care,” Jennifer said. “She had the best of everything.”

During her final year, the family talked with Kathleen about helping others, believing that would give her the will to live. In fact, after her death, the family received many cards from others with eating disorders who praised Kathleen for the help she had offered them.

They talked about her having a child, a focus outside herself.

But the disease “defined her,” Jennifer said. “This is me. This is who I am,” Kathleen had said.

How ironic, Jennifer pointed out, that Kathleen’s disease isolated her in a way that was so contrary to who she really was – the life of the party, someone who loved people and having fun.

The one thing Kathleen did have was a small shih tzu, “Toby,” named after her father. Toby the dog took a particular liking to Toby the father, much to Kathleen’s consternation. She teased her father that she was going to give the dog to a neighbor or take him to the pound. At Hamot, Toby asked his daughter if he could keep the dog, said he’d “take very good care of him.”

Kathleen nodded her assent and died soon after.

Her memorial service was well attended and moving, meaningful to family and friends.

It “was outstanding.” Toby said. “She’d have loved it.”