Just had my first MRI today, and it's just like a video game gone wrong. I'm not claustraphobic (thankfully) and after signing in, I was taken to the MRI room. What a nice space looking mechanical donut, was my first thought.
The lady gave me headphones and I laid down for my 20 min scan. Don't move, I was told, and even as the very low (OMG turn it up!) music played in the headphones, the rat-tat-tat and click, hummm, click, bzzzzt-hummmm was just crazy loud. In the first few minutes I imagined myself bolting and mumbling something about, "I can't do it, I just can't do it!" I pushed that image aside as the whole machine vibrated, in not a good way.
It could have been worse but I kept thinking Day of Defeat, glitching. Rapid fire with neverending supply for ammo from the AK47 (or whatever) just blasting away. No need to reload, ratatatatatatatat.... hummm. hat's exactly how it sounds.
I tried to find a happy place. I imagined the song that was playing in my headphones, "Red, Red Wine," with actually having a glass of red, red, wine (and talk about strange, I went to a store afterwards and the same song was playing, deja vu).
Ug. After 20 minutes of trying to blank out the noise, which didn't seem that long, I was all done. Won't know the results in a few days, but I'm just glad it's over and done with. I really didn't freak out much, it was more annoying than anything else, but it had to be done.
And now onto other things like Hurricane Earl. I keep thinking about the show "My Name is Earl" and hoping that we'll get to see/feel just a wee bit of it. We're so far inland that I don't think we're going to actually get any of it. You never know tho. We're prepared (sort of) anyways.
Time to hit the hay. 2am comes more quickly than I expect it when the house is asleep.
Yeah, the clicking and humming and what-not is kinda weird. Next time ask them to turn the headphones up. Some places'll let you bring your own music.
ReplyDeleteI had one done, when I was 16. The machine wasn't so bad, but they took my glasses *then* told me how, if I started to feel closed in, I could just look up at the mirror and I'd be able to see out. Um... what mirror? Between that, a nervous cough, and an amazing ability to drop my blood pressure to near-dead levels when confronted with sharp and pointies (the contrast had to go in *somehow*), I think they were glad to see the last of me.
And I was glad to hear that I didn't have an evil twin growing in my brain. Any MRI opportunities since then have been avoided by simply not calling the orthopedic clinic back. Doesn't work so good for brains, tho.