The MRI itself was uneventful, just a cold room, a loud machine, and a long stretch of stillness as I lay there, staring up at nothing. But the real challenge came afterward—the waiting.
Dr. O’Ryan told me it would take about a week to get the full results. In the meantime, all I could do was go about my daily routine, pretending like everything was normal when, deep down, I knew things were far from it.
Every time my phone buzzed, I wondered if it was his office calling. Every time I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen, I questioned just how bad things really were. The not knowing was worse than anything.
When the week finally passed, I got the call to come in. My heart pounded the whole drive there, my mind running through every possible outcome.
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