Page 149 of Salto

“You don't have to have the laparoscopy right now,” he finally said.

A small wave of relief filled me once more, only to subsequently have it obliterated moments later.

“But if this is endometriosis and it goes untreated, the disease can continue to progress. The longer it's allowed to cause inflammation and scarring, the greater the risk that it could affect your fertility.”

My throat tightened. “So if I wait...”

“I wouldn't recommend waiting too long,” he said gently. “If you choose to compete, my recommendation would be to schedule an appointment with an OB-GYN as soon as Nationals are over. They can discuss your options and, if it's appropriate, schedule the laparoscopy. I wouldn't put it off any longer than that.”

There were only two options.

Meet with another doctor and finally get answers.

Or keep pretending everything was fine while risking a future I'd never really thought about until now.

CHAPTER 53

Iput my AirPods in, blocking out everything on the drive to the airport. I stared out at the passing cars and city.

There was no rain—but a storm raged inside me.

I’d spent the entire night Googling endometriosis. I’d read article after article, study after study, tumbling down a rabbit hole that only made me feel worse about the situation.

Chronic pain. Infertility. Surgery. Treatments that worked for some people and did nothing for others. Symptoms that could be debilitating one day and almost nonexistent the next.

Somehow, the disease seemed more confusing after researching it.

Surgery. Fertility. Gymnastics.

The accumulation of all three circling in my head made me feel almost numb.

We got to the airport, went through security, and soon I was waiting to board the plane.

Rove had gone to check our bags at the ticket counter.

He glanced over at me as he waited and our eyes met. I could see the concern in his expression.

I looked away.

After the appointment with Dr. Morgan, I'd only told Rove the basics. I essentially said that the doctor had cleared me to compete but wanted me to have more testing once I got back.

I think he assumed I was still upset that he’d made me go to the appointment. And I wasn’t about to correct him.

My only goal was to make it through Nationals. Then afterward, I could think more about everything.

Surgery. Fertility. Gymnastics.

My jaw clenched, and just then my phone rang. I answered it, talking through my earbuds.

"Hey, Mom," I said, trying to sound positive, but I was anything but.

"Hey, sweetie. Did you make it to the airport?"

"Yeah, we're about to board."

"How are you feeling? I'm sorry I can't make it to this one."

I had yet to tell her about the appointment. I selfishly wanted to get through Nationals before telling her because I knew she wouldn't want me to go. She'd worry, especially because she was already more stressed than usual with me being across the country.