This post is a little more serious than I usually am, because that’s where I am today.

This morning I went to the doctor to hear results from MRIs. The news was good; there’s nothing there that shouldn’t be. I’ve always heard that expression people use, about feeling like the weight of bricks had just been lifted off of them. I thought that I knew what it meant, but I didn’t, not really, until this morning. I knew I had been internalizing that stress, but I didn’t know exactly the extent of it, until I felt it melt away.

The waiting could’ve been much worse. It was only spread over the last couple of months, and I’m lucky because I have an incredible network of support around me. Regardless, it was a like a dark cloud that lingered. In New York, at the beach, at my cousin’s wedding. Every great day was tainted with the “what if” that sat in the back of my mind.

I wanted to be one of those people who handles it so well, determined not to let worry overshadow all the amazing things about my life. Sometimes I was able to be that person, but it was usually only in small increments, and then I would resume fighting the mental battle inside my head.

I wanted to talk about it, and then I didn’t. I didn’t want to scare anyone by admitting to them how scared I really was. I fluctuated between believing people when they assured me it would be fine, and wanting to challenge them. How did they know? How could they be sure? Weren’t they just saying that to make me feel better?

I am a person of faith so that was another part of the equation for me. Can you pray that nothing bad shows up on your MRI? (I did). Would it change anything if I didn’t? I prayed more as a source of comfort than anything, forced to acknowledge that everywhere, all over the world today there are people who prayed the same and won’t receive the good news that I did. I have always thought that you shouldn’t have beliefs unless they stand up to weathering. These past couple of months have been that for me.

I also thought long and hard about healthcare. I’m fortunate enough to be on my mom’s health insurance. But what would someone do in the same position if they didn’t have that kind of privilege? Would they have the same access to world-class healthcare that I did? I doubt it. What if I wasn’t on her insurance, and I didn’t have a job? This is just another scenario that merited the “there’s no use worrying over what-ifs” speech I’ve given myself a thousand times since the spring.

I still don’t have answers to all the questions these couple of months have raised for me. But today, I really don’t care. I’m so grateful, and excited, and relieved.

Today is a day for celebrating, which means my favorite pizza for lunch. And probably ice cream later.

It’s a good day.

picture source: via French by Design here


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