I had another MRI tonight. It is one of the only places I feel truly alone. I walk into the sterile room and a chill runs up my spine, the piped cold air hurts my nose. I lay down on the rigid plastic board, drill in the ear plugs as the technician wedges pads between my ear and the head frame. Slowly the board I am on moves into the magnetic tube. I am not claustrophobic. I don’t mind the tube. But it is eerily cocooning. The noise starts. They described it as a thumping sound. It’s more than thumping. It’s like loud futuristic electronic music. Zaaaaaaaaat. Zaaaaaaaaaaaaaat. Click. Click. Click. Thwap thwap thwap thawp. burneeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer. Over and over and over. Laying perfectly still, not moving, not swallowing. 1-3 minutes at a time for the images. Alone.
She enters again. The table slides out and she begins to search for a vein to administer the imaging dye. I have not grown more accustomed to needles. Still dread them as much as before. I warn her I had bad veins. Pain. Burning. She blows the vein. That’s gonna bruise. She finally gets it in the had and slowly pushes the dye in. Chill spreads across my hand and creeps up my arm. Second round.
Back in the tube. Wondering what my soft tissue looks like now. Has the inflammation gone down? Away? I pray. It si so much easier to go on day by day, just dealing, taking the medication. It’s times like this I dread. I don’t really want anymore news. No more change. I don’t want to hear anymore about this broken body. For now, I am just going to think it’s alright.