Reflections on an MRI

If enough people ask you if you are claustrophobic, you start to wonder if you should be.

Same is true for the “do you have any metal in your body?” question.  “No.  I definitely don’t have any metal in my body.” “Nope, no  metal.” “I don’t think I do.”  “Wait….do I?”

Ear plugs muffle the outside noises, but make the internal ones louder.  One could argue that I am speaking metaphorically here, but I mean actual internal noises.  Real ones.  I heard my heart beating and even think I heard the whooshing of blood circulating.  But I guess this could have been any number of other whooshy things.  MRI machines are not exactly quiet.  I think this is what being in the womb must feel like…

I always forget to ask (or forget to listen) which way the hospital gown should open.  And I invariably put it on the wrong way.

I CAN lie still for 20 minutes.  My mother, sister, and husband would argue that this is a physical impossibility.  The MRI tech (doctor?) even told me “good job staying still.”  No one has ever told me that before.  Ever.