First, I noticed the nail ridges after a long night shift, then I started feeling dizzy during the day.
I mentioned it briefly to my supervisor last week, but was told to drink more water and keep going.
Two days later, I caught myself staring at my reflection, shocked by the pale look, but still pushed through.
Just yesterday, during a lunch break, I tried researching the nail ridges on my phone and found alarming articles about nutritional deficiencies and chronic conditions linked to them.
I felt a cold spark of fear but tucked it away.
Today I’m supposed to see the clinic doctor for a routine checkup, and I’ve been avoiding it, worried what they’ll say or dismiss.
This morning’s quiet moment at the kitchen table holds an undercurrent of dread because I know the checkup isn’t just a formality.
It might bring questions and answers I’m not ready for.
I’m bracing myself for a conversation that could make me confront the subtle but persistent signals my body is sending.
And yet, I’m hesitating at the edge, unsure if I can push through the silence and dismissal that have defined my life at work, or if this hidden code on my nails is about to pull me into something much more complicated.
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