Yesterday morning while admiring the smiling moon, I drove myself the three minutes to the hospital for my MRI. Shh, don't tell, hehe. Upon arrival, the friendly registration ladies said I was all set and sent me down the hall. I was the first one in the waiting room, haha!
After attaching my snazzy hospital bracelet and filling out the paperwork on a clipboard, I sat down to wait out the few minutes until I was to be summoned.
My radiation tech had kind, smiley eyes above her mask as she told me apologetically that I'd have to change, showed me the locker of scrubs and the changing room, and waited for me. She then escorted me to the MRI room where she and her fellow tech explained that I'd be in the machine about 20 minutes and then they'd inject a contrast into a vein and then I'd have about 5 more minutes.
So I hop up on the table/tray/slab and wiggle into position. She asks if I'd like a blanket as it'll take about half an hour for everything, so I said sure. They tuck me in, hand me the call button, caution me that it'll be loud in there, and ask what kind of music I want. Adding a pair of the puffy, over-the-head headphones and clipping a plastic hockey-looking mask over my head, she tells me I'm all set. I giggle about it really feeling like Halloween as now I look like Jason from the Friday the 13th movies.
I close my eyes, because I figure I won't be able tell how close or tight the top part of the machine will be to my face if I can't see it. Yes, the air current might feel a little different depending on if I am in or out, but I can do this.
And in I go! At first there's some blips and boops and rata-rata-ratas as the machine sets itself up. Sometimes it feels like you're on top of a car hood that's been out in the sun awhile. Sometimes it feels exactly like sitting in my tenth grade Spanish class with a certain soccer player sitting directly behind me who repeatedly kicked my chair enough times that I wanted to elbow him in the face, that constant small jamming jiggle that you feel through your whole body. Sometimes it sounds like being inside an old printer, that bzzzzzzt bzzzzzzt bzzzzzzt sound. Sometimes it's like a mosquito the size of a T-Rex hovering over your shoulder.
I picked smooth jazz so that I wouldn't be tempted to dance or sing along to the music because I was supposed to be still for accuracy purposes. The first few minutes there was no music and I thought, "hmm, either they forgot to turn it on or their headphones aren't working. Oh well. I'll just pray." So I started to pray for a sweet friend of mine and there was a large thump that made me jump a little and then the music started. I was glad, as it was hard to concentrate on praying with all the racket and no music to focus on.
I listen to a handful of songs and then they pull me out to do the contrast part. Uh oh. Well, I'm already laying down, so I theoretically shouldn't pass out. She ties off my arm, has me make a fist, pops that sucker in there first try, reminds me that I might feel coolness versus the warmth that CT contrast has where it can make you feel like you peed your pants, and is done in no time. Then she says, "five more minutes, you're doing great."
I close my eyes again, they stick me back in, and right when I think I might be done, it gets really bright. I think, "oh, maybe I'm out." So I crack open one eye and nope, still very much inside a tube made of what reminded me of the white walls of the Millennium Falcon. Reshutting my eye right quick.
Very soon after, she calls through the intercom that I'm done and that they'll help me finish up in just a few minutes. I have a few last minutes of music and then she helps me off the table/tray/slab with a, "you did great!" I thank her for doing great with the needle, haha. She tells me that they'd most likely have the results by tomorrow (today). I figure I'd give it another day and then call my doc for results if I didn't hear from the office first.
I put my clothes back on and head on my merry way, back out through a much fuller waiting room.
Imagine my delighted surprise when I got a call yesterday saying that the MRI results were fine/clear/normal! Woohoo!
So thanks for praying, everybody. I maintain that I am a single stick patient and that the whole brouhaha was brought about by my bod's overreaction to multiple and/or moving around needle jabs. Thank you all for the texts checking on me and for being available to help in your myriad of ways. I appreciate all of you!
Happy hump day!
