Tomorrow, I go in for my MRI. I know I originally said the appointment was Thursday but the moron at the MRI center gave me the wrong date. I'm having an MRI of the brain with and without contrast, which probably means I'm going to be stuck in that cursed machine for two hours straight. God only knows how long I'll have to wait for the results. This anxiety is killing me. It would be really nice to know whether or not I have a terminal illness. I've already been trying to live the last few days as if they were my last. Waiting this long has already been hard enough.