I had a brain MRI.
Several weeks ago I’d been plagued by migraines and headaches for over a month straight. Finally, one day while working with a student on his articulation skills and not being able to form coherent sentences myself, I knew I had to see a doctor.
I made an appointment for the following morning and went to my primary care physician. He asked all the usual questions and did the usual exam. Then he prescribed a blood pressure medication which is also used to treat migraines. My blood pressure was high, which was unusual for me, but it had been a stressful few months at school so I wasn’t too surprised.
“I’m hopeful this medication will help alleviate your headaches. But I’d like to get an MRI as well because it’s quite unusual that you’ve been having such terrible headaches for so long. Let’s just rule out any other issues, okay?” my doctor said.
After agreeing with him, I left with medication in hand, and headed home.
At first, I was fine.
But the more I thought about the implications of an MRI, the more frightened I became.
What if I had experienced some mini strokes?
What if I had a brain tumor?
What if I was dying?
Scheduling the MRI was an ordeal and the first available appointment was three weeks away. So I put it on the calendar and promptly forgot about it. And its implications.
Until the day of my appointment.
On a bright Tuesday morning, the first week of summer, I walked into the MRI facility, signed in at the front desk, and waited for the attendant to call my name. I opened a novel I’d brought with me, feeling calm, fearless.
“Mrs. Terrebonne?” I heard the technician say.
I rose from my seat and walked with her down the hall, chatting easily.
“Are you here for a brain MRI?” she asked.
And that’s when it hit me. The fears relived. What will this MRI reveal?
As I undressed and stuck my arms through the flimsy gown, panic threatened to surround me. I closed my eyes, asking Jesus for His peace and strength to hear whatever news this MRI would reveal.
I approached the machine and laid on my back, attempting to be as still as possible. I tried to focus my mind on my kids, my to-do list, anything to keep myself from worrying about this noise clamoring around my skull.
Could they see the worries on the scan as my mind flitted from one thing to another?
But soon it was over and the technician helped me sit up. She told me I was free to get dressed and leave, the results would be sent to me in a few days.
So I left and tried not to worry too much.
A few days ago my doctor’s office called with the news that my MRI was normal, nothing to worry about. And I sank into the kitchen chair in relief, not realizing the fear I’d held in my body over this simple yet terrifying test.
I’m beginning to realize that my body holds fear and stress even when I push the things I’m worried about to the back of my mind. The tension builds up in my neck and shoulders, my head. Probably the reason for my headaches – all the stress and worry from the past school year. Worries about the upcoming year too.
But I’m also beginning to understand how to give those worries to Jesus. How to let it go each morning, well, sometimes multiple times a day, and unclench my fists, relaxing the tension in my jaw, releasing control of worries and fears that I actually have no control of anyway.
It’s freeing, this unclenching.
1 Peter 5:7 tells us to cast all our anxieties and cares on Jesus because He cares for us. So that’s how I’m trying to live right now, during these lazy days of summer. Practicing this letting go during low-stress times so I can be ready as the stress level builds.
Are you releasing your worries right now? What is difficult about that for you?