“It sounds like your health matters a lot to you,” he offered, his eyes meeting mine. And suddenly, I wept. Mine was a wailing and irrepressible grief, called up only by this simple act of recognition. All the years of effort, all the machinations to avoid humiliation and erasure, and someone had finally noticed. Later that day, I realized that despite years of trying, no one had ever told me that I cared about my health. And I did. I do. “I’m sorry,” I told him. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” But we both knew. The dam had burst. In the coming days, I waited for test results, nervous as anyone
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