“It’s nothing that’s clearly a problem right now, but there are 2 spots that are possibly a concern.
There’s nothing we can do now; come back in 6 months. Everything else seems ok, so there’s nothing we can do to help right now.”
But in 6 months, I would have applied to all the universities I wanted to apply to, maybe even accepted into some.
In 6 months, the plan for my next few years will be set, and all at the same time whatever showed up on the scan could be growing – becoming a new problem I will just have to learn to live with or do more treatments to fix.
How am I supposed to cope with waking up every morning trying to figure out if my headache is just a side effect of my life or is it a clue into what is happening inside? Every time I am over a toilet regurgitating my last meal, I begin to question what is causing this. Am I just going insane? Am I physically sore from whatever is happening inside me or am I just sore from being sore?
My god, what am I going to do? How am I going to get through this?
It seems sort of dumb that you’re ok for now actually has brought on more stress for me. I guess it’s because it’s not a 100% clear, it’s a mixed answer.
And I always hated mixed answers – unsure responses that raise more questions that answers.
I have an MRI tonight – moved earlier because I told my doctors about some symptoms I’ve been experiencing. The same sort of symptoms I experienced a little over a year ago during what was likely the most difficult time/situation of my life.
I showered early as the scan is at midnight in downtown. Now I stare at my dinner unappetizingly with a weird feeling in my stomach and throat – warning signs of classic Jessica-style vomiting.
It’s never about the scan itself that is frightening.
It’s always about what the scan shows.
If it’s not clean, that’s a whole set of new worries. However, even if it is clean, there are some unanswered questions and problems which may now never have an answer.
I don’t even know what I want to hope for. Maybe something minor that can be fixed with some pills? Small treatments?
I don’t know.
I don’t want to know.
I just want to find out soon if it’s something that can be helped.
I just want some help.
I streak on my concealer across all the scars on my face, covering all my inner battles.
I buff powder into my skin, blending my sickly skin to porcelain perfection.
I add highlighter and blush, creating the image of colour and health.
I comb on mascara to make my eyes seem open; unaffected by my tired, droopy lids.
I do these things not to make myself seem beautiful to others, but to feel powerful to myself.
I look at myself in the mirror and admire the art I have created.
Not the smears of colours I have added, but at what it enhances on the canvass.
Sometimes, it just takes a stroke of colour to find that person within – the one that is strong, confident, and powerful…the one that was always there.