If you’ve ever been traumatised by the white tube of death, you’ll understand.
On Tuesday, after three months on consistent pain, a specialist with an OAM (#legit) finally told me I’d earned an MRI. Woo! (I’ll spare you the story that involved 13 phone calls to get a bulk billed MRI that wasn’t in May, but know I totally #crushedit)
A quick trip down the Hume to Bowral, checking ‘no’ for every box on the poorly formatted, photocopied one-to-many-times form and then a 40min wait (I mean seriously, appointments were invented to avoid waiting), and I found myself babe-in’ it a
hideous smashing canary gown walking towards it.
It looked the same as the one in the brochures I’ve made, the website I’ve edited and the video I uploaded. But I’ll tell you it sure looked a whole lot more friendly when a cute kid pushed his teddy through it. (0:43)
“No, I don’t have any metal bits in my body” – for the fifth time.
“No, no pacemaker.”
“Yes, my hairtie is metal free.”
“Hop up here…Shimmy down further…Legs in here,” he said before Velcro-ing the baby-making-organ protector on my stomach.
Oh no, my legs are totally uneven. So not going to be able to stay like this.
:: Awkwardly attempt to adjust foam leg holders while strapped to a bed ::
Nope, that totally didn’t work. Perhaps I’ll try again.
:: Awkward lean that makes the actually injury hurt. ::
Screw it, I guess I’ll cope.
Hands on chest? Hands above head? Oo tough choice.
Hands above head. Yes, this is good.
“Okay it will take about 30minutes, so just stay very still and I’ll see you soon.”
Okay, calm. Still. Don’t move. Heck, telling me to stay still is like asking the fat kid not to eat the last donut.
Woah this is hard. My stomach is moving. The baby-making-organ protector is moving from my breathing. Maybe I’m breathing too hard. Yes, good idea, shallower breaths. Crap, it’s still moving. Okay perhaps breathing is okay. Mel! Of course breathing is okay – they cannot not let you breath. Idiot, Mel.
Hmm I wonder how long it’s been. Mel – it’s been like 30 seconds, the noises have barely begun.
Ooo air blowing on me. I really should have gone to the toilet before this.
Damn it, I already have pins and needles in my foot. Totally should have persisted on the leg foam readjustments.
Crap. I just moved. I wonder how big that leg twitch was. I hope I haven’t screwed up this whole thing. Damnit.
“Dear God, help me stay calm and still.”
Wow, this is taking a lot of concentration. Think of something else.
Yes, good idea: brainstorm.
Nothing to click or tap. Brainstorming was definitely a bad idea. Cannot make repetitive movements.
Wow, I must actually be the most annoying person to be around. I cannot stay still.
Dead arms. Need to move arm. Lost all feeling. I wonder if it’s okay to move my fingers. Your fingers aren’t even in the stupid tube, of course you can move your fingers. Since when were fingers connected to your hip bones.
:: moves fingers ::
Ah the relief. I still have fingers.
Something else. I need something else to block out the weird air blowing and mechanical beat making. Quick Mel, think of something.
Pray. Brilliant, Mel. You slept in a missed your quiet time this morning. Praying is a great idea. Wait, why didn’t I think of this 2000+ bleeps ago. #guilty
:: Prays assortment of prayers ::
Okay surely this is going close to 30mins now.
:: Silence ::
Oh my goodness, I reckon totally aced this. I wonder if it’s over.
:: Silence ::
:: Technician suddenly appears to remove the ear muffs. ::
“You did very well staying still. We got great images.”
I won! It’s over!
Arrive home and shamelessly tell of my
bravery non-moving accomplishment to my sister.
Laura: “You do realise they take multiple images because people move.”