Infuriated in Purgatory

Since my MRI last Monday, I have felt lost in a state of purgatory.  Not in the religious sense of the word but rather the sense of suffering temporarily.  The past year has been teeming with doctor's appointments, specialist insights and testing that was neither comfortable or comforting.  And now here I sit on the cusp of breaching the unknown, terrified for the answers that only two months ago seemed imperative to my journey.
I am stuck in the understanding that regardless of the diagnosis there will be impact, I will be affected.  I try to imagine my reaction regardless of the diagnostic results, but I am aware of my inability to truly appreciate the profoundness of the moment until I am in it.
I must pause here.
Have I ever relayed the story told to me by a young widower? I think I should:

While the young man sat vigil over his wife as she lay dying, he tried to imagine what life would be like without her.  He believed that her illness had given him some insight into losing her.  In the moment of her death he recognized how incomprehensible death was and only by living the experience of being without her would he ever truly understand it.  His message to me: we cannot imagine what we have not lived.

So I am in purgatory, left to wait until Tuesday, when who I am today will be decentred and reimagined due to a chronic illness or a psychiatric one.

You may be wondering, why infuriated?  Perhaps that is too strong of a word, 15 minutes has passed since I began this blog (I am trying to be mindful).  Now I feel more heartbroken in purgatory.  I would not normally expose a conversation that I have had, but I feel like it illustrates how easily we become invisible and even with good intention we can hurt.
I had someone close to me ask how I was doing and if I had received my results yet.  I told them that I was okay but feeling sick in the waiting.  In response they told me that they knew everything was going to be fine.  Feeling exposed and vulnerable, I asked what fine meant to them.  They told me that they knew that I would not have MS and that all of this would go away soon so I could just be.  I recognize that the intention was to put me at ease but unfortunately I left this message feeling invalid.  The advice minimized the past year of experience with my health or lack of it.  In an accusatory fashion it pointed at me to take responsibility for my "unwellness".  It felt like the crest of a slippery slope almost saying that I was creating my illness and it was all in my head (ironic I know).  That is the hurt.  The medical profession can be cold and disconnected, people can be presumptuous and pass judgment and in response the person shrinks into vulnerability and becomes invisible.
I am vulnerable right now and sensitive.  I understand that people in my life are hoping and praying for the best possible outcome.  If I could take the opportunity to teach people what I need I would tell them that nonjudgmental, quiet companionship helps.  Walk with me, not for me.  Do not take the lead.  If you care, just be with me and the rest is within me to handle.