The ceiling tiles in Radiology Room 2 appear square at first glance. Upon further inspection, while laying on my back for an hour, I calculate they are a little given to a rectanglular shape.
I have entered for a routine ultrasound. The sonographer is pretty and sweet and kindly informs me of the procedure, “I will perform the ultrasound on your neck. If there is any reason for concern, I have orders to perform a biopsy.”
I am waiting. Waiting on the head of radiology to come and perform a biopsy. A feeling runs down my cheek. I am fighting for stoicism. What is it that wells inside me? I push with all my strength to keep from thinking, to keep from thinking of what it all could mean.
What is the worst that it could mean? And I have achieved it. Not the stoic emotion I was fighting for…
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