Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Em. Are. Eye.

Yesterday, I had an MRI done on my knee.  If you've ever had an MRI, you know they (1) shove you in a big tube; (2) are noisy; and, (3) tell you to hold still no matter what.  I had an MRI done on my neck in the very early 1990's, so I had a good idea of what to expect: tube, noise, don't move.  Although technology has come a long way, I figured not much probably changed.  I was right--tube, noise, don't move.

Before getting shoved into the noisy tube, I had to fill out a form.  They want to make sure you don't have any weird metal things inside of you--shrapnel, clips or clamps, pacemakers, etc.  I quickly went down the list: no, no, no, no, no, no....then, I got to the last question, which inquired if I had any tattoos.  Tattoos? My first reaction was why the hell would it matter if I had tattoos?  My second reaction was, "oh shit, I am covered with tattoos." My third reaction was, "they didn't ask me this last time," but, then I realized back then I didn't have a tattoo so I probably didn't pay any attention to the question.  I circled "yes" and hoped this would not delay my testing.  My final thought was, "there are a bazillion people with tattoos that must need MRIs, so I'm not gonna fret about this." When the lady came to get me, I handed her the form and then asked about the tattoos.  Her question? "Where your tattoos done in the United States?"

Huh?

She explained that tattoo inks used to be made with metal flakes in them; thus, those old-school kind of tattoos could technically heat up during the MRI process.  She said this might happen in recent times if I had gotten my tattoos in foreign countries.  Now, this sounded ridiculous, so I asked her if anyone had ever experienced this "heating of the tattoo."  I didn't care about hot tattoos--I just didn't want ugly-from-the-test tattoos.  She said no but added that in theory this could happen.

I am SO going to do research on this--both the metal flakes and flaming hot MRI tattoos.

She took me to the room and showed me where to put my belongings.  I was confused by this as I was standing in a wide open hallway.  Last time, I had to take every stitch of clothing off and they wrapped me up in hospital gowns.  I was like, "I am not taking my clothes off while standing in this hallway."  She must have realized this and said, "oh, just take off your jacket, jewelry, glasses and shoes." I got to keep my clothes on. Oh sure, I had donned my bestest, prettiest, newest undies for the event and no one got was going to get to see them.  She didn't check anything. The only thing she confirmed was that I wasn't wearing a watch. I must have given the lady a worried look--after all, how did she know I wasn't wearing an under wire bra or a chastity belt? I tripled checked my jewelry and started to walk to the room when she stopped me and explained I'd have to leave my glasses.

Lady, I don't leave my glasses behind for nothin.'  I can't see a thing without them.  Those of you who think I am exaggerating need to look through my glasses.  I honestly can't see a thing without them; in fact, I need my glasses to find my glasses.  I have actually dropped my glasses on the floor and had to call the wife to help me find them.  I keep a spare set in my car.  So, when someone asks me to leave my glasses behind, I get mighty nervous.  I told her I can't see without them.  She assured me I should just follow her.  Um, okay.  I just told you I can't see.  Thankfully, she was wearing bright blue and the MRI room was basically white, so I could see a blue blob moving in front of me.  Follow the blueberry, follow the blueberry....

Before you have a tender moment of sadness about my inability to see without my glasses, don't waste your time--not being able to see when having an MRI is wonderful.  If I were claustrophobic (and, I'm not, but if I were), it wouldn't matter as I really couldn't see much of the tube at all.  It's a huge bonus. When I had my neck MRI done, they shoved me in the tube head first and it was not an open MRI.  I didn't care as I couldn't see what the hell was going on.  They explained it would be very normal to feel closed in.  I didn't feel anything at all--just curiosity about the process.

I was ready to be all mummy-fied, as last time, they really wrapped me up and strapped me in.  I couldn't have moved if I wanted to.  I mean, they had my head strapped in place, my legs mushed between these pillow barrier things, my arms across my chest, placing a panic button in my hand.  (I guess if you freak out during the testing, you push the button and you shoot out of the tube.  I kinda wanted to push the button just to see what would happen.) This time, all the technician did was put this plastic thing on my knee and told me not to move,  She sent me into the tube, legs first.  So boring.

It was a rather uneventful event except for one thing....

...I've been desperately trying not to get the cold the wife has been enduring for the past week.  I have willed myself not to get sick.  In an effort to help myself, I've been sucking down Vitamin C and zinc lozengers all week long.  If you've ever taken those zinc things, you know they can make you rather nauseous, especially if you eat them on an empty stomach.  Well, I had THREE of them on the way to the MRI facility.  (I told you I have been working hard not to get sick.) I hadn't eaten in five hours, as I planned on eating right after the test.  Well, three zinc drops on an empty stomach is not a good idea.  How do I know this?

I am laying in the tube, listening to bad country music when a wave of nausea came over me.  It was awful.  It was that zinc-on-an-empty-stomach nausea of which is not pleasant.  I felt like I was going to throw up.  I stopped and actually about this and realized....if I throw up, it is going to go straight up into the air and then rain down on my face.

It was right then and there that I decided I would NOT be throwing up.  After all, who wants to vomit rain down onto their face, even if it is ones own puke?  I did everything I could to think about anything that didn't involve my nausea.  I concentrated on my non-hot tattoos.  I thought about tattoos oozing out of my pores. I thought about new tattoo designs. I thought about how I was going to enjoy the DWTS finale tonight.  I listened to the music, thankful for the awful commercials.  I tried to see the blinking numbers (I think they were numbers) on the outside of the machine.  I did every single thing I could think of that did not involve moving and that had nothing to do with zinc.

I am happy to report that I did not throw up and that none of my tattoos burst into flames.

The blueberry wasn't very much help when the test was over.  She announced, "that's it!" zipped into the room, removed the plastic thing from my knee and kept on moving.   She told me, from somewhere in the room, to be careful when stepping down in case my knee was stiff.  Um, lady? Remember I told you I can't see?  No, she obviously did not remember.  The blueberry left me sitting on the edge of the table.  I called out and reminded her I can't see.  Thankfully, she heard me and accompanied me (well, walked quickly ahead of me) to the locker area.  There I was reunited with my glasses.

And, so that is the story of my MRI.  Rather mundane, don't you think?  I anticipate the results will be just as mundane.  You know how that goes--have pain, finally do something about it, stop having the pain.  I anticipate the best.  I know you do, too.
******************************
P.S. I emailed my boss today and told her I won't be at work tomorrow, because I have the winning numbers for tonight's record Power Ball.  I assured her I would not be resigning as I would need productive things to do when not out on vacations or on altruistic adventures.
*******************************
Won't you be surprised.

No comments:

Post a Comment