Bang! Clank! Thud!

I’m not sure what I thought an MRI was like, but that wasn’t it. Ok, there was this narrow cylinder and the ever-fashionable hospital gowns and yet another IV with the requisite tape to rip arm hair and, quite possibly, flesh. And it was cold. I understand big machines need to be kept cool so they don’t overheat, but why not make thicker hospital gowns for these tests? Something like flannel? I can’t be the first person to think of this, can I?

They offered my a movie or music (I chose music), tossed on some headphones, clicked on a cage, for lack of a better term, and stuck a mirror on top, so I could see out of the tube. Given how bad my eyes are without my glasses, all I could see was a bunch of blurs. Not much better than the tube.

So I’m rocking with my chosen station and the machine starts with what sounded like some kind of psycho rotary phone. And the machine was so loud, it drowned out the music. After the third iteration of irregular sounds, each more strange than the last, there was some sort of vibration thing going on. To accompany the booming and clanking. I wanted to laugh more than anything else! It was like that show on MTV a while back where they’d intentionally try to piss off someone and reward them if they kept their cool. And it just got more and more hysterical as the tests went on.

Halfway through, they yanked me out to shoot me up with some solution to provide a contrast and put me right back in. That’s when the Giggle Loop started.

Not my invention, hat tip to British comedy. During serious moments, you think “wow, it would be inappropriate to laugh now” which makes you almost laugh. Then you get control and realize how funny it would have been, which makes you almost laugh again, but now a bigger, more uncontrollable laugh. This goes on and on until you give in, laugh, and show yourself to be an unconscionably rude jerk.

But I didn’t give in until I got to the car. So, all in all, MRIs are weird and a tad annoying. I guess I can see how it could be bad if you’re claustrophobic, or if you’re in the tube for a ridiculously long time. And now I’ve completed another test with another expensive machine and I have to wait (again) over a long weekend for test results. The next step is having a chat with my oncologist to answer about a dozen questions about my particular cancerous situation.

Hurry up. Wait. The story of my adult life.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s