I have safely returned to the land of 37 year olds. Thank you all for enduring the adolescent Janet still trapped within me despite several years of therapy. She�s got some barbs dug in deep. I love her, because she�s part of me, but her childish tantrums make life difficult at times. I thank you for your support, even though I know my entry got some of you rolling your eyes and saying �good lord, get over it� cuz even I was feeling that inside a bit too.
Sometimes, what you give really does come back to you when you need it. This morning I had my MRI and I�m so grateful for my friend Jana for being my MRI buddy and going with me. MRI�s are� well� kind of freaky-deaky. I�m not claustrophobic by any means. In fact, I often find comfort in small spaces. When I�m really upset, I like to curl up in a ball on my closet floor. The smaller the space, the better I feel. I�m sure psychiatry would liken this to the desire to return to the womb. All psychiatry aside, or most psychiatry aside, it�s totally different when the small space is a choice. They ask you if you are claustrophobic when you schedule the MRI. They actually have different machines for the claustrophobic. Having had many cat scans in my life, I thought it would be no big deal. But MRI�s are actually very different.
Lay down on this board. Check.
Large grid/helmet like contraption placed over your head. Check.
Foam blocks placed inside grid/helmet contraption to prevent head movement. Check.
Board slid inside a long tube up to your knees with only about 2 inches of open space around you. Check.
It�s funny, I think if they would allow you to lay completely encapsulated in the fetal position, it would be okay. But it�s the tube thing that�s hard. The fact that your eyes/head/face are several feet away from open space. But they place a mirror over you so you can see the opening where your feet protrude. It actually does make it easier, seeing that there is open space. Other than that, I imagine it�s a bit like being trapped alive in a coffin. Except that a coffin would be quiet but an MRI machine makes quite a bit of noise. Some of it is rhythmic so you almost feel like you are cutting a demo (the rhythmic noise in fellowship with the fact that you are locked inside a soundproof room whilst a technician operates a computer and views you through a window while occasionally sending you affirmative vocal thoughts). The noise is so bad they actually give you ear plugs. They also encourage you to shut your eyes. And of course, they stress that you can�t move at all except to breathe.
The minute you are completely inside the tube is the minute you realize that you have to pee like a mutha. Never fails. My bladder never fails me.
Once I was fully in the tube, my brain started cycling. Oh my god. I�m trapped. I can�t move. I�m in a tube. I�m trapped. What if I need to move? And then I begin the mental dance with myself. Hey Janet, you don�t need to move. You�re only trapped if you need to get out and can�t. You don�t need to get out. You�re okay. Oh my god, I�m trapped. I can�t move. And back and forth.
The tech is really good about keeping you informed. They actually run a series of scans, not just one and each one is a different duration and a different �song� if you will. But funny thing, each one starts with the same drum beat. I swear, that�s what it was like, the opening drum beat where the drummer bangs their drumsticks together 2 times and then bangs a series of drum beats. After that, it was a variety of clangings, beatings, screechings, machinery noises. No screams though, that part was comforting.
Now it�s just a waiting game. Waiting for the results, waiting for answers, hoping for solutions.
The shock is wearing off and the fear is really setting in. At first it didn�t really seem like it was happening but now I know it�s real. 2 years ago I was told that there �may� be a problem and that they�ll �watch� it. There was always that option that nothing was wrong, my lifeline of hope. Now it�s for real. There is a problem and they might not be able to fix it.
Blah blah blah. Enough, I�ve had enough of this talk for now. After the MRI, Jana and I went to see Last Holiday. It seemed very appropriate right now and it was a good movie. Not like Oscar-good, but like, I-could-watch-this-movie-a-million-times-and-it-will-always-make-me-smile-good. We had a really good girls day. Girls days are the best. They manage to show up right when you need them.
