I avoided the urge to seek a diagnosis.
The uncertainty weighed on me.
Was the sensation just a nuisance, or something worse?
Waiting to find out felt risky.
But I couldn’t jeopardize the presentation.
Reaching out for help seemed like admitting weakness.
The stakes were high, and the fear of what lay ahead was paralyzing.
I sat in meetings, my mind half on the task, half on my hand.
The buzzing and numbness were constant companions.
Yet, I pushed through, clinging to the hope that it would pass.
Each keystroke was a reminder of the pressure.
Every dropped pen was a reminder of my uncertainty.
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