MR I can't

Want to hear about the time I freaked out like a small child, just shy of crying for my mommy? Oh yeah, that happened. Let's talk about this disastrous ducking bullship.

Now let me start by saying I am not claustrophobic, but I don't love MRIs. I've had them, multiple. As a matter a fact, I had one just two weeks before this missed opportunity but we needed to see more and I scheduled another one. I premedicate because general anxiety disorder and all, so I'm prepared. Or so I thought.

The staff was lovely. I answered the questions confirming my life is just really not that exciting and I only have what I was born with inside my body. I am absolutely not pregnant....because hell will actually freeze over before I do THAT again. Good good. Put my ship away in the box and off we go to get positioned.

I lay on the table, get all the things in the right places, cross my arms over my abdomen like I normally do and close my eyes while she finishes up. That's my norm. Eyes closed before the table moves and we're golden. It's go time now. My new friend starts moving me into the machine and as I start entering the death tube my arms are being smushed by the wall. Ok. Let's give it a moment, control the breathing, get a little farther and it's going to be fine. It was not, in fact, fine. It's the furthest thing from fine. Like if 'fine' was Texas, this was Spain. My arms are still being compressed by the sides of the machine and I'm in head first to about my elbows before I completely lose all self control and start repeating in a frantic but normal tone "Pull me out. Pull me out. Pull me out." She immediately complies and all I can do is apologize. She (of course) tells me that it's fine and we reposition to try again. She tells me if I rest my arms down at my sides it will be better. Even in my frenzied haze, I (like everyone else) know that resting my arms at my sides is not going to make me 'smaller'. This time is even less fine and we barely get by the shoulders before I'm fighting off crying. Back out I go. I'm not a small person but I'm not ready to go see Dr. Now just yet.

Miss Ma'am sitting at the computer proceeds to tell me that this machine is the same size as the previous machine I was in. As the person who was actually INSIDE the other machine, it is not the same. My arms did not touch that previously entered machine because if they did, I would not have been in that tube of death either. Instead of arguing about this machine being tighter than a Jimmy Dean sausage casing, I left with my "new friend" who removed me from the Optimus Prime pocket pal to go inside to reschedule. While we are inside working with the scheduler on Take 2, my new pal here goes on to tell me that the machine I don't fit in is the smallest unit they have and rated for 350 pounds. Do what now? 350 pounds? My brain is trying to process this in a hurry. I'm not 300 pounds. I'm not even 200 pounds and I don't fit. She is slowly shaking her head yes. I guess if you don't mind being crushed to death slowly for 20-40 minutes, you can use that child-sized mobile machine. Me? I need the bariatric machine. We reschedule for a couple days later. I arrive for my appointment for the machine inside the building and meet my tech. He's lovely and I tell him my story. His response was Yea, that machine is super small. I'm not sure why miss ma'am at the computer the other day is the only one who didn't know this but whateves.

He brings me in to this Rolls Royce of magnet tunnels. It's huge, has lights inside, and I get headphones for music. We shove me and my closed eyes into this (much larger) machine, my arms don't touch the wall. He talks to me. I count the songs (5.5 songs played while I scanned), I'm pulled out and sent happily on my way. We did great and good pictures were taken and he was also really cool. Second chance imaging was a success.

And that's the story of the time I acted 4 instead of 40. If you need an MRI but don't love MRIs- do yourself a favor and do not go to a mobile mri machine. They are not all the same. If you have any thoughts at all about possibly being claustrophobic, tell them and do not under any circumstances go to a mobile machine. I was not okay, medicated.

Happy Hump Day Friends!