“You’re Making Up Symptoms,” They Laughed—Until the Specialist’s Report Came Back.

in the quiet store. I tried to catch myself but my hands didn’t work right. The last thing I remember is Thomas’s irritated sigh—like I’d knocked over a display, not my own consciousness. Then everything went black.

I woke up to harsh light and a beeping sound. Emergency room. The air smelled like disinfectant and overcooked coffee. A blood pressure continue reading …