Those of us who have a long MRI know that when you just need one bit done the time flies. Using the counting of breathing in and out and holding, creating a welcome distraction from why you're in.
The thoughts otherwise wander all over, some might be able to mediate, I talk myself out of the worry and fear, the reason you're there called into sharp focus. The habitual prayers I say to ward off the potential growth. That's blind faith isn't it, that through that prayer perhaps somehow they shrink or disappeared. At other times I shift out the memories of surgery and difficult recovery days.
Convincing myself I can taste the contrast fluid, the instruction to drink lots for the next few days to flush it out. Oh if only we could eat or drink something that would flush out VHL.
Just how much kidney can I live with, just how many surgeries can this body, forever aging, take? Should I be doing more?
And then home. To wait and do my very best to ignore it all.
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