August 16, 2001 ~ I survived
the stupid, stupid MRI. I felt like it was a TOTAL waste of time, and it kind of gave me a headache, and frankly, the whole concept is a little creepy (letting someone stuff you into a narrow, coffin-like tube which makes LOTS of noise and makes your fillings hurt. Thanks! We'll send you a big, fat bill!). It's probably not supposed to make your fillings hurt. That's probably just from clenching your teeth. And you're probably not supposed to do that, either. Some of us are just, well, lesser people. We just aren't as talented or as good. The little lady who was the machine's previous victim... her fillings probably didn't hurt. But I could see the pictures of her brain on the monitor, and I have to tell you, it wasn't good. I'm not that familiar with MRI's -- okay, I'm not at ALL familiar with MRI's -- but it sure looked strange to me. Maybe that's why the techs fussed over her and rushed in to help her up and stayed right by her side and patted and soothed and such things. If that's any clue to the outcome of the test, then I should be as healthy as a horse! There was no rushing, soothing, or patting, thank goodness. I think. Isn't that a good thing?
I had this done a few years ago, and at that time there was much explaining and reassuring and calming of frayed nerves. There was a woman technician... perhaps that was the difference. This time, it was all men. The "explaining" consisted of "Okay, now you need to lie REALLY still. DON'T move." And that was that. No "Are you comfortable, Mrs. C?" "Are you doing okay in there?" or "Do you need for us to stop the test? We can stop at any time." No "We're about a third of the way through." or "Halfway through now, are you feeling okay?" None of that. And that's fine. Just, "Lie still." and I was still, and the noise was loud, and it made me involuntarily clench my teeth (and everything else), and it was a little annoying, but not awful. And that's all she wrote.
The guys did NOT fuss over me afterwards... I think that's a good sign, no matter how you look at it. Either I do not look frail or ill (trust me, I don't!), or they looked at the computer screen and said "Hah! That silly doctor sure wasted this woman's money." Or both. And they knew I could get up and around on my own just fine, thank you very much.
Afterwards, my son, who had insisted upon accompanying me -- thinking it was going to be a very, very distressing test (hope I didn't disappoint him too badly) thought I could probably benefit from some Mexican food, and I had to agree with him there. Larry met us at a nearby restaurant, we all pigged out, and lived happily ever after.
Okay, so the jury's still out on the happily ever after part.
Test results in three weeks.
Stay tuned. Or not. I can already tell you that everything is fine.
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