March 12th, 2009 = MRI Time

I've heard things about MRI's. Things like loud. Small. Scary. Noisy. Uncomfortable. The Worst. None of these words point to a good time. It was at the MMPC building in the outskirts of Grand Rapids. Easy to find, plenty of parking, not a bad deal. I've heard you can have some drugs if you are claustrophobic to help you deal with the TOG(Tube of Gloom, as it's known). I told the MRI technician that I was going to try without the drugs, to see if I could handle it.
The first thing the tech's do to make you uncomfortable is have you change into stupid hospital gown and pants. They're comfortable, but there is know way to not feel like an idiot wearing them. I was so confused if you tie the shirt in the back or the front, I thought they might knock on the door of the changing room to see if I was still alive or not.
Then they lead you into this small room, and have you lie down on a fairly stiff stretcher style board. They ask you questions like, "Do you have any metal in your head?" and "Any piercings" etc. MRI stands for Magnetic Resonance Imaging, by the way. It's quite amazing technology, and I am no where near the mental capacity to explain how it works, so I won't even try. I wanted to ask them if they've ever seen a nipple ring fly out of someone's shirt, but I decided not to.
After the different questions, they wrap a towel around your head, and then put a crazy helmet thing with two big eye holes on your head. They tell you to lie as still as possible. They give you a ball-type signaling device, so if you need to get out of the machine because you start freaking out, you can squeeze it and they will be your hero and let you out. But that's only if they like you.
So then the table slowly moves back into the TOG, and you think you're going to die. You life flashes before your eyes, and you think things like, "I knew I should've eaten that last piece of pizza! I could've finished it, what was I thinking! Now, because of that decision, I have consumed one less piece of pizza than I could have in my life! My brother will probably bring that up at my funeral too, how I said I couldn't finish it, and he'll say it's because I was a girl, but I knew I should've eaten it, I just didn't....what a failure..."
Then after twenty-ish minutes of thinking ridiculous things, the table started to move! Glorious! I am so outta here! Then the tech says, "now you're ready for your contrast" and you think, "unbelievable". So they stick what feels like a needle the size of an adult redwood in your arm, and back you go for another round of twenty-ish minutes. After I was done, I said "If I ever have to get another MRI, it will be way too soon..."