The Zipper

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