pre-test jitters

I wish I had celebrated every 'good' MRI til now.
     Maybe I didn't because they seemed irrelevant at the time. Each MRI showed us only what had happened in the 2 months prior. I always knew what those 2 months had been like; I lived them with her. The MRI couldn't tell me what was going to happen in the coming 2 months.
     Or maybe I didn't celebrate because I was too busy holding my breath. I kept cautioning myself against expecting the good news to last. The whole 'hope for the best, but prepare for the worst' was my mindset. I couldn't afford to be caught off-guard emotionally. So I would spend time getting mentally geared-up for bad news. But then when the reports came back clean, there was no release. The tension didn't ease. The flood of relief didn't happen. It couldn't. Because if the other shoe hasn't dropped yet, that means we're still waiting on it. And I had to be ready.
     But here we are. Another MRI tomorrow. And I don't know that I'm ready. All this time I've spent trying to guard my heart, and I still feel vulnerable. Maybe that's why it didn't bother me as much as I would've expected when it had to be rescheduled from earlier this week. I catch myself trying to still assert some control over it by coming to a prediction. Predicting an outcome that would 'explain' things. As if I will be able to make some sense of it all. In my mind, I know that I won't ever come up with any logical reasoning that will make sense to my spirit.
     So I'm trying with all my might not to expect the worst. And even in saying that, I realize that I'm doing a poor job of it. Maybe it's because of the changes in her- the exhaustion, the continuing mental decline, the strange appearance the steroids have given her- that I feel her slipping away. Or maybe it's more of a selfish expectation. Of course, I want the report to come back clean. Of course I do! But if it doesn't, then I'll have finally come to the end of the anticipation of bad news. Then I can take a deep breath. I can finally stop bracing for it. It will have done its damage, and I will be able to start picking up the pieces.