Survival From The Nasty MRI

My friend Elinor drove me to my MRI appointment Friday. Either I had better driving directions or I'm a better co-pilot. We made it to the building without getting lost. (I mention this because the last person she took to the same building last week, they got lost.) That's the only good part of this post. No, I take that back the polish dog & soda pop at Costo was the highlight of this trip.

Trip, tripping, was I tripping? I was soooo nervous about this MRI after the last fiasco. I got registered & sat down to wait to be called in for my appointment. My hands started shaking, the magazine felt too heavy to hold & was dragging down my tendinitised shoulder. It actually made my shoulder hurt to hold that magazine. My hands were shaking so badly I couldn't turn the pages to the magazine. I kept looking at my watch. (I should have left it at home.) Why? Why aren't they calling me it's 12:15, 15 minutes after my appointment time.

Crimminy, am I going to hyperventilate now? Why I don't even have a brown paper bag in my purse to breathe in--let alone any color paper bag. Relax Fostine, you're not even in the MRI room yet. Relax read your SI (Sports Illustrated) magazine. No, I can't do that, do they have a barf bag handy--now my stomach's churning. I wonder if anyone ever threw up in one of these machines? Relax Fostine, just sit back and relax, I can't there are too many people coming into this waiting room. Don't they know this is my air? Damn their sucking up all the air from this room. I can't take it, I've got to get out of here. What Elinor, oh, they called my name. It's about time.

Well, she asked how I was today & I told her. Oh dear are you going to be okay. I'm still sure I'm going to throw up. But just relax Fostine, let's get this over with. Smile at the nice lady Fostine, assure her you won't barf in the machine. We go into dressing room 2. Oh, you're giving me a gown to wear, I didn't get one at our local hospital, cheapies!!! Just let me get a little info about you Fostine then you can change clothes & I'll come back & get you. No, you stay put, just close the dressing room door, I'll talk why I change clothes. I was trying to hurry this along as fast as possible. Tell me what you've been doing before your right shoulder began hurting. Believe me, I've told this so many times now I don't want to tell it again, but being a nice old lady, I tell her my story.

Okay, she's going down to see if the room is ready for me. Great!!! Just leave me alone again. I wonder if I can just grab my purse, clothes & make a break for it. Blast she's too quick for me, the room's ready for you, just follow me. Wait!!! There's an exit sign, will she notice I'm not following anymore? Oh no, she's turned around, she must have read my mind. No, she's apologizing for not calling me on time for my appointment. The woman before me couldn't lay still so they had many re-dos with her. Okay Fostine, bring back that old training your mama made you learn--you were always told to sit still when your mama took you to the grocery store with her. She'd clear a space on the lower shelf & tell me to stay put & sit still. I'll go pick up my groceries & be right back. I stayed put, I sat still, I know I can make it through this. I WILL LAY STILL and I'll have no re-dos.

Thank goodness there were no re-dos for me. I lay still in that horrible machine. Even if it had open sides I don't know what good they did me. I couldn't turn to look to see if they were still open. That would mean that I moved & that would kill the scan. Then I opened my eyes & saw that my face was only 6 to 8 inches from the top of the machine. Close you eyes Fostine.

During one scan it popped into my head that I knew I died. I'm dead. I don't think I breathing any more. Why these people have scared me to death in this blasted machine. When I don't answer to their next directions, they'll find out I've died in this thing. No, no, I hear her voice coming through the ear phones. Relax, breath normally, we'll take a quick look at this scan. You're doing really well. Good, it all looks good, we'll only have two more long scans and your done. Well I didn't die of fright in that machine. That's good. They didn't have to exit me by the back door into a hearse.

Finally at the end of the last scan she says they are done & she'll be back in the room shortly to get me out of this blasted machine. I hear her talking to me telling me she's pressing the button & can feel the table begin moving. Darn, darn how far inside this thing have I been pushed? Am I ever going to see daylight again. Have I entered the Twilight Zone; I think I'm caught in an endless loop & I'm never going to get out of this miserable machine--ever in my life time. I will endlessly be coming out of some-endlessly long machine. Just my luck!!! Oops, I made a mistake again, look I'm finally able to see the first glimpse of the ceiling. Oh, glory-oskie Zero, it's so beautiful. Look I can see the whole ceiling & that beautify ceiling light. If I could take a picture of the first thing I saw it would be that ceiling light, but she said my cell phone would have died in that room due to all the magnetic stuff in there.

Well we walk back to dressing room two. Change clothes & walk to the exit. Look, I'm moving under my own power, I'm not yelling & screaming. She reminds me that their technician will read my MRI scans & send the information on to my orthopedic surgeon. Okay, okay, I don't care, just don't let the door hit me in my behind as I get out of that building, home, safe, safe at home at last.

Thank goodness my kitties, my luvs, my peeps, for feeling safe, being safe & knowing I'm safe here at home...

     --Glory-oksie Zero, I wish today were tomorrow, luv Fostine