Celiac artery compression syndrome, those four words finally
gave her hope. With hands shaking she laid down on the stiff hospital bed
waiting to be rolled off to the OR.
It began junior year. I would find Megan hunched over, groaning
from the pain, unable to move. Eating made the pain worse, so I spent every
lunch period of that year with her in a classroom so she could avoid the smells
rising from the cafeteria, the reminder that she couldn’t eat without feeling
like someone was ripping out her stomach.
Oddly enough, my favorite memory of her was on a warm summer
night, we were probably around five years old. She was invited to join my
family for dinner. She ran through the back yard to ask permission. Twenty
minutes later Megan skipped through the overgrown grass with a bowl of
spaghetti her dad made for her.
Doctors ran test after test but found nothing. After a year
without a diagnosis the doctor decided it was in her head. Six months of lying
on the discolored leather couch in the therapist’s office pushed her to get
another opinion.
She was referred to a Gastroenterologist who, after one
visit, had the answer. It took two years to come up with four words to explain
the horrible pain.
Megan and I have been friends since we were two. We would do
everything together, our parents used to joke that we were attached at the hip.
I forgot to breathe when my phone vibrated alerting me of
Megan’s plan for surgery. She assured me everything would go smoothly but all
of the possible outcomes came flowing into my head all at once. I was terrified
of losing my best friend.
The surgery was a success, only a scar and the memories
remain.
Word Count: 300 Words
