"You know who else has M.S?" My mother intended to continue on with a string of people in the neighborhood that I knew who were living with the disease. I almost laughed.
"I don't have M.S., Mom."
"Yeah, I know... but still." She sounded unsure, like she was still trying to convince herself. We continued the drive toward my house in near silence. I stared out the window or rested my eyes. My body ached and my mind was reeling with all I had to do. Spring break had passed and school was charging forward, with or without me.
It was Saturday and I was supposed to be at work. I had called my boss, Brian, to let him know that I was having more tests run that morning and would be in when I was finished. Now I was wishing I had told him I wasn't coming in at all.
I got home and emptied my belongings from my mother's car. She had insisted I bring my laundry to do at her house over the weekend... I never did get to it. After she left, I took a few moments to myself to relax and be alone. With the past week's events, it was much needed. I pulled myself from my daze and headed to work.
The work day was long. The doctor was on-call at the hospital and had promised to call me as soon as she reviewed my MRI from that morning. The order even said, "Page Dr. Banks STAT with results." I sat working quietly in my office with my phone nearby in case she called. I tried not to think about it. I tried to convince myself that it was some kind of fluke-- maybe dietary-- maybe it could be something stupid like my potassium level or B12 level. It had to be something embarrassingly stupid.
At about 2:30, the phone rang. My heart skipped a beat. The number was unfamiliar.
It had to be the doctor.
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