Saturday, 14 May 2011

Tube Fail

Okay so remember how I was all freaked out about going for the MRI? Oh my God. My appointment was on Thursday evening at 5.30pm. I wasn't even freaking out that badly, I was feeling pretty calm.. had my little mix CD with some nice calm tunes on it.. I was feeling pretty confident.

Got to the hospital, took all my piercings out, got in the little backless gown that made me flash my arse at everyone behind me (luckily I wore my incredibly tasteful zebra print underwear *ahem*). Answered all the little questionnaire things, handed over my CD. Had to take my make up off because apparently some of it contains metal? And apparently some tattoos have metal in the ink as well? That wasn't very reassuring... But still, I soldiered on. I also informed the nurses I am BEYOND claustrophobic.

Got into the little MRI room, impressed all the nurses with the fact I can tie my hair in a ponytail using only my own hair. Then it all goes downhill from here!

I lay down on the table, and they put this weird helmet thing over my head. Honestly, I felt like Magneto but didn't want to say that in case I just looked like a massive geek. It had a weird little mirror right above my eyes like a rearview mirror in a car. Apparently so I could see outside the machine to keep me calm. Yeah.. Then they added the giant stethoscope like earbuds for the music. THEN they added the giant Kotex-esque pads on either side of my head to keep me still. So by this point my head is pretty much completely enclosed and I'm not even in the machine. 

Then they started moving me in. And I'm not ashamed to admit I started to hyperventilate. I got in as far as my shoulders and had to get out. It was horrendous. They asked if I wanted to try again but no way. Absolutely no way. I didn't even realise until I got to the little changing area that I was literally dripping with sweat. The nurses were all really lovely saying not to worry and that it happens all the time. Then in the car park, I was sick. It took a 20 mile drive home, and 2 hours before I stopped shaking.

The main problem is, everyone I know was trying to convince me that they would ONLY be putting me in halfway, like only my top half would go in the machine. I was kind of okay with that. But they actually wanted to put me all the way in. Aghghghggh.

I must sound like such a wuss. I haven't been able to sleep properly for the past 2 nights because I keep going back over being in that machine. I feel really bad though, someone else who's not a complete failure at life could have used that appointment to see what the hell was wrong with them. Ugh. 

What happens now? I have no idea. Possibly a CT scan. It doesn't help matters that since the appointment, my left side has been agony. 

On the plus side - new Dr Who blog later tonight :) 

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