The Sun Day offers up plenty of tips and advice. There are thousands of friendly neighbors living in Sun City. Now, between a newspaper publication and thousands of neighbors, do you think just one of you could have warned me?
I had heard of an MRI before. I had a vague idea of what it was. I knew it was some sort of non-invasive way of seeing inside the human body. I wasn’t concerned when my doctor handed me a prescription with “MRI” written on it. I called my local MRI’s R Us and made the appointment. I figured this would be a snap and went ignorantly to the clinic.
When the nice lady at MRI’s R Us asked me if I was claustrophobic, I thought it was a strange question. When I told her I was, she suggested sedation because I was having a closed MRI. Sedation? Really? Why on earth would I need sedation to get a picture of my shoulder? Wasn’t this going to be similar to getting a simple x-ray? Can’t they snap a quick image with a cell phone? What’s a closed MRI anyway? Naturally, I turned to Google and was enlightened.
As I learned what a closed MRI meant, as a claustrophobic person, I was quickly thrust into panic. Have you seen a closed MRI? What were they thinking? How was this going to work? Were they going to grease me down with motor oil to get me into that thing? I’m a big girl! How are they going to insert a 200-pound woman into a 120-pound opening? Will they have four burly guys pushing me into it? What’s stopping me from sliding right on out the other end?
Is there a manhole cover or something to keep me inside? Perhaps if I had been an Italian sausage in a previous life, this would be easier.
Did I mention I have some allergies? I can’t take the sedation the nice lady mentioned without suffering terrible consequences, but I knew I needed something to help me through this ordeal. My appointment was in an hour. Let me see, what could I take that I’m not allergic to that would keep me feeling loose and mellow?
I grabbed a straw and commandeered a bottle of Limoncello. Soon, there was nothing left of that bottle but the label. Not only was I feeling really, really mellow, but my breath smelled lemony fresh. I was ready.
Before they fired me into the tube, they asked me what my choice of music was. I blurted out, “reggae!” It seems I was in a Caribbean mood and feeling rather festive. Once they got my shoulder into the brace, my journey began. I was being transported head first, and into the cylindrical chamber of mystery I went.
I settled in and started singing along with Bob Marley. I was happy and I was positive Marley appreciated my back-up vocals. A man’s voice suddenly cut in and said, “Su, you’ve got to stop singing.” What? Who was this? I responded, “Look, I don’t know who you are, but I know darn well there ain’t room enough in here for the both of us!”
Turns out he was the technician and was talking to me through speakers inside the machine. He suggested I keep still and be quiet so the pictures would come out clearly. “Can I hum?” “No.”
All of a sudden, I can’t hear the music anymore, because it appears someone has landed a 1966 Piper Cherokee 140 on top of my tube. Man! It was loud! I hated to break the silence, but I asked if they would remove the plane. It was drowning out my reggae. Again, it was indicated I should be quiet, but they did crank the music up for me. Eventually, it was all over. They glided me out of the tube, and I was on my merry way.
If you are claustrophobic and you find yourself facing a closed MRI scan, let me give you a heads up. It’s not as scary as it first appears. The technicians will do their best to make you comfortable. They will explain the whole procedure. They will hand you a “call ball,” which you can squeeze if you feel it’s necessary and they will have you out of there in a New York minute. They will pump your choice of music in for you. The only drawback is the noise. There is no question, it’s a tad loud, but if you are expecting it, it’s really not that bad. We do have “open” MRI scans around our area as well. If I have the choice, next time I’ll pick the open one.
So, is anyone going to tell me what a rotator cuff is? Is that like a French cuff?
