"Don't worry...It doesn't look too bad."

I complained the entire drive to the hospital.  It's what I do, even though I knew Mandy was right.  If I really was slurring my words and now that my lip was drooping, it was probably for the best.  I usually don't have to go to the hospital unless I'm taking a bad guy or checking on a shooting victim.  Well, there was that time I cut my cornea while driving, the time I had that weird allergic reaction, and of course, when that motorcycle guy ran the red light and totalled my cruiser.  Other than that, I usually don't go unless it involves a bad guy.  Regardless, the ER staff knows me. 

I get escorted to a lovely room, pee in a cup and get stuck a couple times.  Lots of doctors come in...I really don't think they know what to do with me.  The MRI people are already gone, so I end up in CAT Scan.  Quick and easy, no big deal. Until, they are wheeling me out and someone says, "Don't worry...It doesn't look too bad."  Not a phrase you want to hear when it's referencing your BRAIN!

I get back to my room and wait for my neurology consult.  The doc gets there and has me walk down the hall (I look like I am drunk).  My eyeballs are working against each other and jiggling around in my head.  I can't focus on anything.  So why am I surprised when they decide to keep me so I can have a MRI in the morning?  Because I am not bright, that's why.

He sits down and tells me what the plan is and what they are looking for.  Turns out its Multiple Sclerosis, cause I'm in that age group (really? thanks) oh, and all the symptoms that I am experiencing, too.  That is the second time I heard MS as a possibility.  I'm guessing that is probably what I have...

But, I shouldn't worry....after all, it doesn't look too bad.