Instructions: Preheat oven to 350 F. Insert nervous girl onto rack. Baking time: 45 minutes!
So, my MRI today sucked. Sucked bad.
Things I knew going in:
I'd be in a fully enclosed space. It's ok. I'm fine with confined spaces.
No metal. S'ok. Piercings can come out.
No tattoos with iron oxide. No probs. That came outta most inks around 15 years ago.
Things I should have been warned about:
You're in the tube for 45 minutes and can't move a freaking muscle. Breathing excepted.
The tube makes very loud jackhammering noises and other construction-type sounds.
In your SKULL.
Sometimes the noises are so loud, the bed that you're on actually shakes, but not in the quarter-a-ride-type fun motel beds.
After about twenty minutes, you can actually feel the pressure and magnetic pull in your brain. Not just a vacuous cranium pressure, but you can actually feel it on the grey matter itself.
Your skull-muscle starts to feel like it's getting warmer and warmer and that someone just hit the broil feature on your oven. Still feels a little browned and crisped to perfection, kids. If Betty Crocker was a doctor, she's be damned proud of that MRI tech today.
Granted, this may not happen with all MRIs, but they happened to my today. If you ever have to get one done, don't let me freak you right out, just please ask a lot of questions and don't let them shrug you off without giving you answers.
In Other News...Sort Of
I tried sleeping off the discomfort for a few hours so I could try to make it into work, but the nap just didn't cut it. Even now, it feels the same. Not headachy, but more like a flaky pastry. Dry, crispy, unpleasant when in relation to your mental health.
I call work to tell them I'll have to make it in tomorrow and just can't be there today and my boss is an absolute CUNT about it. No sympathy or compassion whatsoever. I'm sorry, but I'm not calling in because "my stomach hurts," or "I don't feel so good." I just had an intense scan of my brain done by a machine the side of an Escalade. Give me a little more credit, please.
I'm quitting. Going to school for specialized training. No more bullshit. Let's see how well they manage once they realize that I was doing my bosses job for her while she "worked" from home and watched Dr. Phil.
Please Hold Canada, you can take your message-on-hold phone systems and shove it right up your butt-set.
(Yes, you'll only get that last line if you've worked with phone equipment before, especially wiring on-site, but if you get it, I know you're fucking laughing your arse off.)
Things I knew going in:
I'd be in a fully enclosed space. It's ok. I'm fine with confined spaces.
No metal. S'ok. Piercings can come out.
No tattoos with iron oxide. No probs. That came outta most inks around 15 years ago.
Things I should have been warned about:
You're in the tube for 45 minutes and can't move a freaking muscle. Breathing excepted.
The tube makes very loud jackhammering noises and other construction-type sounds.
In your SKULL.
Sometimes the noises are so loud, the bed that you're on actually shakes, but not in the quarter-a-ride-type fun motel beds.
After about twenty minutes, you can actually feel the pressure and magnetic pull in your brain. Not just a vacuous cranium pressure, but you can actually feel it on the grey matter itself.
Your skull-muscle starts to feel like it's getting warmer and warmer and that someone just hit the broil feature on your oven. Still feels a little browned and crisped to perfection, kids. If Betty Crocker was a doctor, she's be damned proud of that MRI tech today.
Granted, this may not happen with all MRIs, but they happened to my today. If you ever have to get one done, don't let me freak you right out, just please ask a lot of questions and don't let them shrug you off without giving you answers.
In Other News...Sort Of
I tried sleeping off the discomfort for a few hours so I could try to make it into work, but the nap just didn't cut it. Even now, it feels the same. Not headachy, but more like a flaky pastry. Dry, crispy, unpleasant when in relation to your mental health.
I call work to tell them I'll have to make it in tomorrow and just can't be there today and my boss is an absolute CUNT about it. No sympathy or compassion whatsoever. I'm sorry, but I'm not calling in because "my stomach hurts," or "I don't feel so good." I just had an intense scan of my brain done by a machine the side of an Escalade. Give me a little more credit, please.
I'm quitting. Going to school for specialized training. No more bullshit. Let's see how well they manage once they realize that I was doing my bosses job for her while she "worked" from home and watched Dr. Phil.
Please Hold Canada, you can take your message-on-hold phone systems and shove it right up your butt-set.
(Yes, you'll only get that last line if you've worked with phone equipment before, especially wiring on-site, but if you get it, I know you're fucking laughing your arse off.)