I sat in the GP car park eating a cereal bar and pretending I wasn’t scared

Dear Delyara, I was early, so I stayed in the car. I ate because I hadn’t had time to eat properly at home, and because not eating before an appointment somehow felt like one more way of making my own body less important than the rest of the day. The cereal bar was dry and sweet and hard to swallow. Maybe because I wasn’t only hungry. There is something lonely about sitting outside a clinic as a grown woman, still hoping the problem is small, still fearing the doctor will tell you something that divides your life into before and after. I finished the bar, checked my face in the mirror, and went inside looking normal enough to pass.