Got up extra early today. Didn't want to chance missing my appointment for the MRI that has finally been approved after a two year battle with my HMO. "There is no preparation required," the receptionist assured me yesterday when I made the appointment. Yeah right I think. I've heard about those MRIs. The discomfort. The noises. The claustrophobia. 30 minutes of not moving. So I prepared.
I woke up extra early. I showered, shaved my armpits, applied deodorant, lotion and makeup. I dressed in clothes easy to remove and replace because I am always afraid someone will open the door to the dressing room and catch me half naked. I ate my bowl of Kashi Good Friends Cereal with raspberries and non-fat milk a bit slower than usual not wanting to risk gas or indigestion. I skipped the coffee so I wouldn't have the jitters. Truth is I skipped the coffee because I was afraid I would have to go to the ladies room in the middle of the procedure. I removed all the extra jewelry (one necklace and two rings). I left early because I was sure there would be a traffic jam. I got there half an hour early.
After completing the 3 pages of paperwork, I was ushered to the dressing room, handed a gown, given a key to the locker for all my valuables and told to take everything off but my undies and sandals and tie the gown in the back. I was also told the restroom was right down the hall. I figured I didn't need to use that. After placing my stuff in the locker and fiddling with the key (I always have trouble with locks) I decided I better use the ladies room anyway, just in case. The receptionist seemed a bit taken aback when I exited the dressing room in my gown asking where the restroom was. Of course I didn't really have to go.
Just as I picked up a year old copy of Oprah magazine so I could look at the fuzzy pictures (I had stashed away my reading glasses), the technician knocked on the door. She led me back to the MRI room, "you took everything off but your undies right?"
"Yes," I said looking around to see if anybody heard that.
"Are you claustrophobic?"
"I don't think so." I don't think she was listening to my responses anyway.
She handed me earplugs. "There will be loud noises." I hate earplugs but I softened them up as instructed and molded them into my ears. Then she started to explain the procedure. More through her motions than her muffled voice, I figured out I had to lie on the table with my head in the cradle.
The table inched in. The chatter starts in my head. I am not claustrophobic. There is plenty of room in here. Even Eric fit in one of these and he's twice my size.
What's that click click? Doesn't seem too noisy to me. I hear a voice. "This one will take one minute." I don't move. I hear loud popping noises then machine gun sounds. I try to count to 60. Breathe in breathe out. Don't move. The noise tops.
The voice comes back, "how are you doing?"
I answer "fine."
"This one will take two minutes." I breathe in and out. Tell myself I will have a caffe latte reward when this is over. I made it through one minute, I can make it through two. The pops, the clicks, the machine gun. I wonder if I am being sliced and diced. I picture the woman in the magic show being sliced in two.
The procedure is repeated for 4 1/2 minutes, then another 4 1/2 minutes, then 4 minutes, and then finally the last one only 3 minutes. Same noises. Same thoughts running through my head. I'm conscious of my breathing. Once in a while I can't help it, I have to gasp. I wonder what happens when I do that. I try to breathe slowly, rhythmically. I don't want to have to do this again. My back aches. My neck is stiff. I want to move.
At last the table moves out to the brightly lighted room. I blink. It's over. The technician tells me to get up. I look at her blankly. You mean I'm supposed to just jump off this table as if there is nothing wrong? I'm here because I can't do those sorts of things. I need help. Finally she gets the message and offers me her hand.
On the way out the door she asks, "you did remove your bra didn't you?"
I want to rip my gown off and prove it to her but I just nod my head.
"Well I detected some sort of metal artifact. Are you sure you don't have some sort device in there?"
I think about it. No I don't know of any devices. Maybe I was abducted by aliens one night and implanted with a chip of some sort. Maybe they are studying me. Maybe there is some tool in there from a previous surgery. Maybe I can sue someone and get rich. I look her straight in the eye. "no I have no metal artifacts."
Next stop, Starbucks. Reward - caffe latte and maple oatnut scone.