MRI - Past & Present.

I had an MRI a few years ago.  Or rather, half of one.  They slid me into the machine and my arms squished into my sides until I couldn't move them at all.  Fingers went numb.  Breasts thrust up until it seemed as if they were strangling me.

I'm a big girl and there were far too many curves smashed into what felt like a sausage casing.  The top of the cylinder was just an inch or two from my face - so close that every breath washed back down with damp, humid claustrophobia. 

I tried to exhale slowly and focus on relaxing but as each minute ticked by, the panic worsened.  They give you a button to push if you need something.  My thumb rubbed back and forth over that plastic dot, worrying it while I continuously talked myself out of using it.

30 minutes.  That's how long I lasted in the coffin.  I was reminded why I want to be cremated as I mashed the button like eject in an airplane kart-wheeling towards earth.

Last week, a doctor told me he wanted an MRI done and when asked by his nurse when he wanted it scheduled, he replied, "as soon as possible."  That answer should have given me pause but I didn't think about anything other than -MRI- flashing in code red letters across the fight or flight area of my brain. 

I'm nervous about it but not so much over why they're doing the scan or what they may find.  I suppose that will come if and when it needs to.  It's the MRI itself - that dreadful, clattering, hammering, too-small tube.

The last time I had an MRI, as I ran out of there like the hounds of hell were nipping at my heels, I heard the tech ask an elderly gentleman if he had taken the sedation medication his doctor had prescribed for claustrophobia.

Whoa, Nelly.  Sedation?  A little siesta in the MRI?   Why wasn't I offered that?!  I came to a bumping halt as my heels dug in and I slowly turned to give the look. 

When this MRI was scheduled, I demanded those magic pills be put into my hot little hand.  I'm supposed to take the first one an hour before the test and another half an hour later if I need it. 

If?  Please. 

I'm going to the medical imaging department early.  I'm going to take the first pill with a cup of cappuccino like any normal person would do.   30 minutes.  That's how long it has to make drool dribble from the corner of my mouth.  After that, pill two and a gurney to take me to that tool of Satan.