It's all in my head

I had another MRI today. That brings my total up to five; three with contrast, two without.
It doesn't get to be more fun. It is still loud, cramped and stressful. I don't like needles, and there are needles. I don't like loud noises, and there are loud noises. I'm not fond of cramped spaces, and they have yet to invent a spacious and airy MRI.

I tried to describe the experience to Jamie once, and this is by no means perfect, but here goes...

Imagine you are lying on a skinny cot with a hockey helmet screwed onto one end. Once you are comfy, they lower an old-school cage-type face shield over your face. They hand you a stress ball, then raise the bed up and slide it into a tube. You have some ear protection, so when the technician talks to you, it's a little muffled. They warn you not to move, let you know how long the next test will be and then the beeping starts.

Remember Space Invaders? Or any other vintage arcade game that had that beepbeepbeep noise when you shot at someone, or that high pitched whine when the game froze? That is the noise the MRI makes. And depending in the test, the whole machine rumbles as if your cot was inside the engine of the biggest Mack truck you have ever seen.

Part way through they pull you out just enough to plung a needle full of contrast into the IV lock they were kind enough to give you when you arrived. Then there are a few more episodes of your very own eighteen-wheeler Atari game. After they pull you out at the end you get to put your own clothes back on and hang out in the waiting room to make sure you aren't going to have any sort of reaction. Then they pull the IV lock out, tape a cotton ball to your arm and send you on your way.

And now the waiting game. My follow up appointment isn't until Sept 11, but there is always the chance of that phone call. The scary, heart stopping one that says "We found something, and you need to come in now."  I've had one of those, and have no desire to ever have one again.