continued from here

I was so tired. I’d been at the Mayo Clinic four days, being subjected to constant medical tests and physician scrutiny. They ordered another MRI. The machine was down a long hospital hallway. The nurse guiding me got frustrated that I was walking slowly, turning and huffing at me as I got further and further behind her. I wanted to scream, “Do you not see the cane? Is this not the Mayo Clinic? Are you not here to help?” Instead I just started to cry. I wept as I walked, as I waited, and as I was prepared for the test. I cried enough to soak the cloths holding my head still inside the MRI machine. Not one of the dozen medical personnel present offered any comfort or even asked what might be bothering me.
Maybe they thought a friend or family member would show up to take care of me eventually. But I was there alone, and it remains one of the most lonely memories of my life.