The hospital called me last Friday to tell me to come in for my MRI on March 30th instead of April 30th. My instructions were to not eat or drink for 4 hours before and wear nothing metal - no zippers, jewelery, glasses etc. I had to take out my upper ear barbell that has been in for years. They asked if I had metal shrapnel in my eyes .. huh? How about a pacemaker? An IUD? Plates in my head?
I passed all those tests. The hardest part was finding clothes with zero metal. Even most of my jogging pants have metal eyelets for the drawstring. Bras have metal clasps and underwires. I almost had to resort to wearing pajamas, which I realize would have put me right in fashion if I were between 13-25 years old.
The MRI scanner is very very noisy. The give you a headset for ear protection and then the prep nurse asks what sort of music you want playing.
"None, thank you."
"You can have any local radio station."
"I'm okay, thanks."
"We have nice saxophone music."
"Yes, I'll just listen to the magnets thump. Thanks."
The rolling table glides me into the the machine. I feel like a giant hot dog. The first session lasts only 4 minutes and the table glides me back out.
The technician says, "Hey, you didn't get any music. What type of music do you want playing?"
"None, thank you."
"We have nice saxophone music......"
Then they inject a solution into my IV, which is causing my hand to throb, because the nurse missed my vein upon insertion. This solution paralyzes my bowels temporarily. And I'm glided back inside my giant hot dog bun. One must lay perfectly still for these tests but the solution has caused my bowels (or something) to spasm a bit and I lay there feeling like I am involuntarily suppressing a cough as my stomach lurches. This quickly passed and I closed my eyes and pretended I was in a tanning bed for the remaining time. I nearly fell asleep amid the horrendous noises that sound like a reciprocating saw is about to come through the walls.
I am glided out one more time to be injected with dye so different tissues show on the exam. I imaging its course through my veins and envision pretty colours filling my cells. Okay, so I can get a little dramatic - it's my creative genes exercising themselves.
And about an hour after I entered the hospital I walked out in search of the nearest Tim Horton drive through.
I have an appointment with my doctor next Tuesday for the results.
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