To a doctor, it’s another scan.
Another report. Another measurement.
They look for signs, shadows, rhythms, and results.
But to the patient, lying quietly under cold light, it’s different.
Every second feels like an hour.
Every pause from the technician feels like bad news.
Every silence… is screaming inside.
The doctor may be calm — but the patient is replaying every worst-case scenario they’ve ever heard.
We don’t fear the scan.
We fear what it might reveal.
Because behind every heartbeat, organ, or image —
lies the hope that everything is okay.
And sometimes, all we need isn’t data —
but a soft voice saying, “You’re alright.”
Comments
Post a Comment