MRI Yi! Yi!

"Do you have metal implants, tattoos, allergies, asthma, claustrophobia?" Those are just a few of the questions Earnest, my technician, asked before my MRI this morning. (Let me take a moment here to say that I always LOVE meeting a guy named Earnest. Because he usually is.)

But back to the subject at hand: Who isn't claustrophobic when they put a rack over your face and pack you in a tube and tell you not to move or it will take longer than the 30 minutes they promised? Not only that, even if you just had a bio break 20 seconds before you were put in place for imaging, all you'll be able to think about is how much you need to pee.  (Even though Dr. Oz says that from the time you think you have to pee and when you are really in trouble, it's about two hours, give or take. But that's no comfort in an MRI.) Oh - and your hands will surely fall asleep. And your nose will itch like crazy.

It's REALLY LOUD in there - that's why they give you earplugs; the squishy kind that look like candy, only don't be fooled! They're not! (And yes, I know about open MRIs, but my doc needed the type of sharp image you can't get from the airier version of the instrument.) It's kind of like being put in a big metal trashcan, and part of the time someone is drilling concrete right next to it, and part of the time it's being zapped with a taser, and from time to time your trash can is being pounded with a rubber mallet. In fact, I bet Earnest was sitting in his little control room during my procedure pressing buttons labeled "TASER" and "MALLET" and "DRILL" just to make the time pass. Because it's probably a pretty boring job to put someone inside a tube and just take a regular old x-ray.

At the end, Earnest gave me a CD of my images, similar to the way a couple would give you the favorite songs from their wedding as a party favor. Maybe I'll even make a label for it: "Anita and Earnest, January 20." I'm supposed to bring it to my doctor, but I might slip it into my laptop before then and take a look. It will be like me looking under the hood of my car - I know there's something wrong there, but I'll never find it.

First things first, though: I'm going to the bathroom, and then I'm going to scratch my nose as much as I want to.

© 2015 A Bit of Brie/Anitabrie