Really, I’m Fine
I started watching Grey’s Anatomy when I was fifteen. There was always a sense of anguish patients felt when they received their diagnosis. And amid their storm of emotions, a spark of resilience would ignite — segueing into a beautiful song.
I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder recently. And there was no labyrinth of emotions I felt. I wasn’t heartbroken, scared or determined. I was just fine. The fact that my body wasn’t working optimally was no surprise. Frankly, I was relieved with a diagnosis — because things finally made sense.
Really, I’m fine.
It’s been a month, and I keep waiting to discover the inner strength all Grey’s patients seem to have. Maybe I am in denial — but really, I’m still fine. I’m just questioning my future and every decision for the next year, while I navigate this endless abyss of uncertainty.
