As instructed, I followed up with my doctor on Monday who immediately set me up for an MRI. Didn't even know what an MRI was at the time but I was so sick, I didn't care. I could hardly move my left arm, it felt like it belonged to someone else, and I could barely walk. I couldn't pick my child up, I couldn't drive, I couldn't go to work. I felt like I might be losing my mind. So I went for the first of what would turn out to be many, many MRIs of my brain and spinal cord.
A couple of days later, my doctor called. One of the first things he said was "there is a lesion on your brain". Honestly, I don't remember anything he said after he dropped that little bomb in my ear. It seemed like everything around me just stopped. I stood in the middle of the kitchen, holding the phone but not really listening because all I could think was what the f*** is a lesion? Was that another term for tumor? Did I have a tumor on my brain? Could a lesion kill you?
When I finally came back to myself, Dr. Z. was saying that he was going to get me in to see a neurologist as soon as possible and that I'd be ok; I should just rest and try not to worry. So...maybe a lesion, whatever it meant, can't actually kill you?
I hung up and went straight to the bookshelves for the dictionary - yes, it was that long ago - and looked up this new terrifying term. The definition didn't explain much, just "damage or abnormal change in the tissue of an organ" usually from injury or disease.
The nurse called within an hour to let me know I had an appointment with the neurologist later that week. Maybe he knew what a lesion was and why I had one on my brain.
Fingers. Crossed.
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