Last week I had an MRI of my brain. No, this was not one of those optional things like getting a choice of fries or applesauce with that burger. No one says “Hey, Doc, I’d really like to have an MRI. It sounds like such fun! Can you set me up for one on my lunch break?”
I mean, really…I guess I could have put a funny spin on it and told my friends and family “My brain was in a photo-shoot with an exclusive photographer {radiologist}. I’m so honored they chose me!” But somehow I don’t think my family would have appreciated me teasing them in this situation. Because, you see, these medical people were looking at my brain, after all.
{{Not one more word from you, Honey!}}
Anyway, this all started with me getting daily headaches and dizzy spells, which is strange since feeling dizzy has never been an issue for me. Being a Florida native I have always flocked with my family – the theme park crowd — to Orlando where we have ridden almost every ride ever invented. I mean, come on now…I am the queen of the Mad Hatter’s teacups in the Magic Kingdom, and I’ve been known to ride the Manta flying roller-coaster at SeaWorld eight times in a row. So this recent dizzying experience has knocked me a little off track.
Well, then my doc ordered me an MRI. It sounds kind of funny the way they say it like that. Like it’s some kind of fast food order. Now I really did have a hankering for some fries.
The next person I spoke with on the phone was the scheduling concierge. As though I was about to make a reservation in a 5-star hotel. After she set up my appointment she asked me all kinds of personal questions like “Do you have anything metal in your head?” — a big tip-off this wasn’t a hotel — then proceeded to enlighten me about the perks of my upcoming MRI. Can you guess? She said I could bring a cd so I could listen to music. Oh joy.
But actually, the idea of listening to music sounded more appealing as I learned more info about MRI’s {thanks to the internet…big mistake}. I read that they’re loud. And a bit confining. And my concierge had said that mine was going to take about an hour. More joy.
So the morning of my big test had arrived. Me and TechDaddy, who took the day off of work, arrived at the medical plaza early, registered, and proceeded to wait. When my turn came up I was all ready.
- No metal on my body {that means on undergarments too, girls}.
- No makeup on my face because it could contain metal…eww. {Mental note to self: don’t put that stuff on your face again. Ev-er.}
- CD of my fave music {that my sweetie, TechDaddy, made for me from my fave iTunes playlist…I heart him}
There was just one problem. The machine in the medical plaza — where we were waiting — was busy so we were supposed to walk next door to use the machine in the hospital. The machine that did not have music listening capabilities. Uh, no joy. None at all. They had told me I could have music to get through this test — music to calm the fears and “what if’s” that had been trying to take over for days — and now they tell me to change?! The tears were brimming at my eyelids when my knight quickly came to my rescue.
TechDaddy stepped up and said for me what was going through my head. “Uh, no. We’ll wait for this machine.” It won’t be ready for two more hours. “That’s okay. We’ll wait.” Wow. I deeply love that man.
So the time finally came hours later and I had the MRI. Laying on a table with my head in something similar to a cage, then being slid into a long tube, and being told to keep my head completely still while this machine made LOUD banging and whirring sounds and shook like an Apollo rocket taking off…could you do that? I’m used to moving some part of my body 99% of the time voluntarily. I sway in line at the grocery store. I even wiggle my toes while I sleep. So me holding still was definitely an act of God.
Afterward I found TechDaddy in the waiting room, hunkered down in a chair with his iPad in blog-reader heaven. {There he is on the left…isn’t he cute?!} As he packed up, I mulled over how I made it through. All I can say is praise the Lord for music and prayer. Really. The music from my cd, that was piped into some funky earplugs, helped keep me from pushing the emergency button in my hand over and over again. There’s nothing like hearing the Newsboys sing “In Wonder” to get your mind off the craziness around you. And nothing could surpass the feeling that Jesus was right there, in the tube of that giant magnet, holding me close.
I never heard from my concierge again. Good thing for her. For one thing, this was nothing like she described. {I secretly believe I was in some kind of astronaut training.} And another thing, if this was supposed to be like a hotel, then I would have ordered a massage after that experience. No…a massage, mocha shake, and waffle fries. And I would have wiggled my toes. A lot.




















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