Perhaps had I not been required to enter the MRI scanner headfirst, my brain would have behaved differently. Having considered myself a pretty civilized individual (lived with a roof over my head, ate with a fork, read books), nothing prepared me for the instinctive, primal reaction that occurred. “Fight-or-flight” and my mind wanted out. Could physically feel my brain racing around in my skull like some crazed jack rabbit. I was going deeper and deeper into this thing and I believe I was now experiencing a panic attack. My heart was beating out of my chest and I could not catch my breath. Oh, this is not good.
Brain struggled to piece together coherent thoughts. I finally remembered the technologist’s words:
“Squeeze this if you need to come out at anytime.”
The bulb. I have an out. My mind rejoiced. All I had to do was squeeze the bulb. Nothing happened. Yoohoo, hand. Squeeze the bulb. Still nothing. HEY! SQUEEZE…THE…BULB! Oh, it was on. Knock-down, drag-out between my mind and my body. The two had been fighting for decades but this one was on a new level. Like brawl cubed. Colorful language was used. Threats were made. Something about breaking from reality and emotional scarring. I don’t remember it all but it was ugly.
Then it happened. My spirit, normally tranquil, interrupted:
“We need to work together on this. Can’t continue to be sick from the fibroid problem. Must move forward. Time to be logical. Stop panicking. You aren’t sealed in here. You feet are sticking out. You could actually wiggle your way out of here if necessary. Calm down and listen to your CD.”
OK. Yeah. Feet were sticking out. Got happy and started moving my toes. Listed to my music and heard “Stuck In A Moment You Can’t Get Out Of “. Started giggling because I decided that this would be my “fibroid theme song”. The technologist came over the intercom and asked I was all right. I was fine. She started the test, telling me when to hold my breath and when to relax. Between listening to her voice and one of my favorite bands, the 30 minutes passed easily. Came out to get the injection of contrast material and went back in for about 5 minutes. Heard “Beautiful Day“. Yep, it was definitely turning out to be that way.
Note: Seems as though I’m not the only one with an MRI story. Check out: “How Stuff Works“.