I Shoud Have My Head Examined
Jul. 10th, 2009 02:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
loracsWait, I did. Just last night, I had a brain MRI.
Did you know the amount of power it took to pump the liquid helium through the tubes and do the rest of the magnetic magic, would supply 14 homes with electricity for a day? For this the technician said “You’ve had lots of dental work, huh?” and “You’ve got quite a bump on the top of your head.” Of course, I didn’t suck up this inordinate amount of power just to confirm what my dentist and a topical exam of my head could tell you. This was a long overdue look at my MS affected brain. Most MS folks get one every year or two, it’s been about 5 years since I took my last ride in the noisy, vibrating Tube O’Fun. For those of you who have yet to experience this marvel of science, I give you the highlights of my 60 minute trip.
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (someone’s hugging a baby chicken too hard)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
This was the first noise I heard as I waited outside the thick, double doors of the MRI lab. Inside it was much louder. And constant – like backup singers stuck in a loop - I never stopped hoping they would break through to another phrase.
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
I had filled out the questionnaire confirming I had no metal in or outside my body. The tech glanced at it and said “You’ve never been in a war zone, have you?” Not sure if this was too personal a question, but since I would soon be immobilized and he would be shooting strong magnetic waves through my head, aligning the water molecules, I thought it best to answer.
“No”, I said.
“Good. Some people who’ve lived in those areas don’t even know they have shrapnel in their body. Once I had a guy walk through the door and I saw all these pointy bits come to the surface on his chest. I made him leave ASAP.”
Good call, I thought. “Wow” was all I could say.
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
He gave me ear plugs and told me to get on the table. It was hard, and he positioned some cushions under my legs and arms. Prepping included placing a pulse oximeter on my right middle finger, then wrapped my hand in a big mitten, giving me a soft ball in my left hand – this was the “squeeze it if you need to get my attention, like if you think you might throw up or something” trigger.
Next came the medieval hockey mask, it was fitted over my face and locked to the table. A few foam cushions to keep my head as still as possible and I was ready for my close up. As the table slid me into the mouth of the beast, I had one of those totally inappropriate visual images and I started to giggle.
Years ago someone (I think it was dbubley) told me a story about a friend’s very special birthday party. After the meal, the unique dessert was prepared. The birthday girl was presented on a table, dressed only in cake, frosting, whip cream, fruit and other assorted sweet treats. The guests were former lovers or one step removed. Silverware was not supplied. No one went home hungry.
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
The next 45 minutes were a cacophony of booms, knocks, hisses, taps, rat-a-tat-tat noises and vibrations felt from the tips of my hairs to the depths of my clavicles. I strained to hear my DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak) under it all. The view through the hockey mask wasn’t very engaging – the ceiling of my magnetic cave was inches away. I spent a timeless time removing the birthday girl image from my brain – giggling would screw up my head shot. Then I searched for patterns – 6 knocks followed by 6 hisses, 8 booms, followed by 8 taps. Jack hammers followed by the noise we made as kids when we fired our toy machine guns, knocks that would drive my dog into a “someone’s at the door” barking frenzy, the hum of old TV’s with vacuum tubes as they heat up and cool down.
When only my backup singers were left, I heard a door click and felt myself sliding out from under the machine. The tech removed the head gear, oximeter, mitten, the “in case of emergency alarm ball”, ear plugs, arm and knee supports.
“Take your time getting up. Most people are dizzy and we don’t want you falling down.” he advised. Truer words were never spoken. Once I got my land-legs under me, I made a quick exit before my backup singers could drill a deeper hole in my brain.
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
I hope he got my good brain side. Maybe this year’s xmas card can feature m
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
Did you know the amount of power it took to pump the liquid helium through the tubes and do the rest of the magnetic magic, would supply 14 homes with electricity for a day? For this the technician said “You’ve had lots of dental work, huh?” and “You’ve got quite a bump on the top of your head.” Of course, I didn’t suck up this inordinate amount of power just to confirm what my dentist and a topical exam of my head could tell you. This was a long overdue look at my MS affected brain. Most MS folks get one every year or two, it’s been about 5 years since I took my last ride in the noisy, vibrating Tube O’Fun. For those of you who have yet to experience this marvel of science, I give you the highlights of my 60 minute trip.
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (someone’s hugging a baby chicken too hard)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
This was the first noise I heard as I waited outside the thick, double doors of the MRI lab. Inside it was much louder. And constant – like backup singers stuck in a loop - I never stopped hoping they would break through to another phrase.
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
I had filled out the questionnaire confirming I had no metal in or outside my body. The tech glanced at it and said “You’ve never been in a war zone, have you?” Not sure if this was too personal a question, but since I would soon be immobilized and he would be shooting strong magnetic waves through my head, aligning the water molecules, I thought it best to answer.
“No”, I said.
“Good. Some people who’ve lived in those areas don’t even know they have shrapnel in their body. Once I had a guy walk through the door and I saw all these pointy bits come to the surface on his chest. I made him leave ASAP.”
Good call, I thought. “Wow” was all I could say.
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
He gave me ear plugs and told me to get on the table. It was hard, and he positioned some cushions under my legs and arms. Prepping included placing a pulse oximeter on my right middle finger, then wrapped my hand in a big mitten, giving me a soft ball in my left hand – this was the “squeeze it if you need to get my attention, like if you think you might throw up or something” trigger.
Next came the medieval hockey mask, it was fitted over my face and locked to the table. A few foam cushions to keep my head as still as possible and I was ready for my close up. As the table slid me into the mouth of the beast, I had one of those totally inappropriate visual images and I started to giggle.
Years ago someone (I think it was dbubley) told me a story about a friend’s very special birthday party. After the meal, the unique dessert was prepared. The birthday girl was presented on a table, dressed only in cake, frosting, whip cream, fruit and other assorted sweet treats. The guests were former lovers or one step removed. Silverware was not supplied. No one went home hungry.
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
The next 45 minutes were a cacophony of booms, knocks, hisses, taps, rat-a-tat-tat noises and vibrations felt from the tips of my hairs to the depths of my clavicles. I strained to hear my DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak) under it all. The view through the hockey mask wasn’t very engaging – the ceiling of my magnetic cave was inches away. I spent a timeless time removing the birthday girl image from my brain – giggling would screw up my head shot. Then I searched for patterns – 6 knocks followed by 6 hisses, 8 booms, followed by 8 taps. Jack hammers followed by the noise we made as kids when we fired our toy machine guns, knocks that would drive my dog into a “someone’s at the door” barking frenzy, the hum of old TV’s with vacuum tubes as they heat up and cool down.
When only my backup singers were left, I heard a door click and felt myself sliding out from under the machine. The tech removed the head gear, oximeter, mitten, the “in case of emergency alarm ball”, ear plugs, arm and knee supports.
“Take your time getting up. Most people are dizzy and we don’t want you falling down.” he advised. Truer words were never spoken. Once I got my land-legs under me, I made a quick exit before my backup singers could drill a deeper hole in my brain.
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
I hope he got my good brain side. Maybe this year’s xmas card can feature m
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
DUUUUCK FUDGE, (elongated baby chick squeak)
