I had an MRI yesterday morning, and I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t a little anxious about the results (which, in true Swedish fashion, I won’t get for a couple of weeks, probably). It was just a routine thing, to check my brain against last year and see if there have been any changes. I don’t expect it to be worse than last year, when it was more or less fine, considering that I’ve had MS for at least fifteen years. Still, I’m nervous that it will be worse, even though I’ve felt as well or better in the past year than I have since my diagnosis. It’s just such a thing of uncertainty, and I know the neurologist will start pushing again for me to go on treatment if he sees anything new. I’ll push back, of course, because I have no intention of starting treatment until and unless I feel I need to, but I hate being pressured about it.

Yesterday I was reading an article by a woman whose disease progression seems nearly identical to mine, and she perfectly captured the feeling of being in limbo. I don’t have any reason to believe that I’ll get worse; honestly, I don’t even think about it every day, but still … it’s just always there. I’ve been fortunate enough that I haven’t had to think about it every day for many, many years, but it’s always a little scary when I’m forced to consider that it’s always lurking there under the surface.