(no subject)
I got the MRI on the ankle today, and will find out the results next Tuesday from my podiatrist. When I was filling out the patient forms, they asked if I had had an MRI before, and I said yes, when I had my appendix removed in January. The technician thought that was a bit odd, and told me that I probably had a CAT scan. 'Who can say?' I said, 'When you're on as many painkillers as I was that day?' He said, 'Oh, you'd remember an MRI.'
He was right. Both technicians told me not to move, or to move as little as possible. I figured I knew the drill. Close your eyes, don't think about the giant magnetic tomb getting closer and closer to your head, go to a happy place. Then the tech reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of earplugs. 'You'll need these for the sound.'
The sound?
For thirty minutes. I can only describe it as jackhammers on the pavement on the sidewalk you are standing on, drilling in stereo-surround, at different frequencies both high and low, that would suddenly stop and start randomly, giving you no preparation for them. I'm a jumper. Take me to a scary movie, I move in my seat. I was worried. I tried to go to my happy place, making contact with my zen animal. I got these random thoughts instead:
* Scalpels slicing through my ankle in surgery (very vivid visual...I had to open my eyes on this one).
* The iPhone dropping 1/3rd of the cost. Fred was going to be pissed. I didn't get enough smug "I own an iPhone and you don't" satisfaction to not be pissed myself. And why the hell do I have to pay an additional 99 cents for a ringtone for a song I already purchased or own? A quarter? Sure. That makes sense, considering the average ringtone won't be more than 15 seconds of a song. Dammit! I will only buy one ringtone for my phone (I start to think about my library for a few seconds before realizing thinking about music only makes me want my iPod or iPhone now, to drown out the magnetic clanging.)
* Fred rocks. (And counting the ways gets back to counting, which I've said before, a bit difficult in this environment.)
* Softball is stupid. Did I really spend ten years playing this sport? How many injuries does this make? (I got to about 5 decent ones before I stopped trying to count the scrapes and bruises from sliding...concentration on numbers is not an easy thing when the machine is making this kind of racket.)
* Ice cream. Raspberries macerated in honey. (and I still don't have it in my stomach because our schedules didn't match up with devldog's)
* Costello/Pietrataglia sandwich...mmmmmm. (This visual took awhile to snap out of...I think I was walking their bulldog at one point.)
* 'Hmm. I think I'd really like to see The Bourne Ultimatum.' (Fred and I ended up seeing it tonight...and 'twas excellent.)
* 'Man, my foot itches. Must not scratch, or move...think of something else.' (And then the technician said "Almost done.")
* "Look, Mr, Bubbles! I can see angels!" (Bioshock reference...I beat the game and want to play it again to get what I missed...could not get this creepy phrase out of my head for the remainder of the session.)
And then I was done, getting my plastic boot back on and grabbing my crutches. It wasn't something I'd recommend to anyone (and I didn't even have to go completely into the machine!) Next time, I do yoga to clear my head. That is, once I'm able to lift my ankle back over my crossed leg without wanting to shriek.
Thanks to everyone for their well wishes...I haven't been on the computer much (I'm really ready for an upgrade...this laptop runs slower and slower by the minute) and have been bad about responding, but I really truly appreciate it. I wish I had more to report, but I won't know more until next Tuesday.
He was right. Both technicians told me not to move, or to move as little as possible. I figured I knew the drill. Close your eyes, don't think about the giant magnetic tomb getting closer and closer to your head, go to a happy place. Then the tech reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of earplugs. 'You'll need these for the sound.'
The sound?
For thirty minutes. I can only describe it as jackhammers on the pavement on the sidewalk you are standing on, drilling in stereo-surround, at different frequencies both high and low, that would suddenly stop and start randomly, giving you no preparation for them. I'm a jumper. Take me to a scary movie, I move in my seat. I was worried. I tried to go to my happy place, making contact with my zen animal. I got these random thoughts instead:
* Scalpels slicing through my ankle in surgery (very vivid visual...I had to open my eyes on this one).
* The iPhone dropping 1/3rd of the cost. Fred was going to be pissed. I didn't get enough smug "I own an iPhone and you don't" satisfaction to not be pissed myself. And why the hell do I have to pay an additional 99 cents for a ringtone for a song I already purchased or own? A quarter? Sure. That makes sense, considering the average ringtone won't be more than 15 seconds of a song. Dammit! I will only buy one ringtone for my phone (I start to think about my library for a few seconds before realizing thinking about music only makes me want my iPod or iPhone now, to drown out the magnetic clanging.)
* Fred rocks. (And counting the ways gets back to counting, which I've said before, a bit difficult in this environment.)
* Softball is stupid. Did I really spend ten years playing this sport? How many injuries does this make? (I got to about 5 decent ones before I stopped trying to count the scrapes and bruises from sliding...concentration on numbers is not an easy thing when the machine is making this kind of racket.)
* Ice cream. Raspberries macerated in honey. (and I still don't have it in my stomach because our schedules didn't match up with devldog's)
* Costello/Pietrataglia sandwich...mmmmmm. (This visual took awhile to snap out of...I think I was walking their bulldog at one point.)
* 'Hmm. I think I'd really like to see The Bourne Ultimatum.' (Fred and I ended up seeing it tonight...and 'twas excellent.)
* 'Man, my foot itches. Must not scratch, or move...think of something else.' (And then the technician said "Almost done.")
* "Look, Mr, Bubbles! I can see angels!" (Bioshock reference...I beat the game and want to play it again to get what I missed...could not get this creepy phrase out of my head for the remainder of the session.)
And then I was done, getting my plastic boot back on and grabbing my crutches. It wasn't something I'd recommend to anyone (and I didn't even have to go completely into the machine!) Next time, I do yoga to clear my head. That is, once I'm able to lift my ankle back over my crossed leg without wanting to shriek.
Thanks to everyone for their well wishes...I haven't been on the computer much (I'm really ready for an upgrade...this laptop runs slower and slower by the minute) and have been bad about responding, but I really truly appreciate it. I wish I had more to report, but I won't know more until next Tuesday.