You may recall that a few days ago I was whining about having to endure the horrors of getting an MRI. Well, I actually survived that ordeal and received a lot of responses from other people who are claustrophobic. With their own horror stories.
BUT….I figured, because I survived that torture, perhaps I should enlighten my fellow claustrophobics about how to come through it all unscathed.
Other than swigging down an entire bottle of Jack Daniels and getting completely blotto.
First you must learn the basics of convincing your doctor that you are a total basket case when it comes to being in a confined space. This, if necessary, includes whining, breaking into uncontrollable sobs, stomping on the floor and perhaps telling him you’d rather be water boarded or have splints shoved under your fingernails rather than go into that long dark tube.
Worked for me. Along with falling to the floor in his office, grabbing his pant legs and begging for some serious stupid drugs that would make me obviously stupid and not know what the hell was going on during the MRI as I sobbed and wailed, still clutching his trouser legs.
So, that worked too. He gave me one simple little pill which I took the morning prior to my MRI and told me that I should not drive to his office. So, I of course listened to him, and drove anyhow.
UNTIL…..until I got about a mile away from home, realized I was indeed stupid while driving because my other half pointed out to me that I was constantly beeping my horn at a slow driver in front of me when it turns out it was a low flying seagull.
At that point my other half took over as I sat in the passenger seat and continually questioned her as to why she was shifting into 10th gear when my truck only has a five speed transmission. The pill was working.
At the doctor’s office I was still a bit apprehensive as to my state of mind as I imagined me being shoved into that long tube and freaking out. Yes, the pill made me stupid, but not totally relaxed.
Realizing that she had a wimp on her hands, the tech gave me a specially designed head set that you can wear, obviously on your head, which is why they call it a head set, which allowed me to listen to any type of music that I wanted to. Which causes you to concentrate on the music and not your confinement.
I chose oldies rock and roll and she strapped the headset on me and the first song playing was “We Gotta Get Outta This Place” by the Animals. Soooooo, that didn’t help as I could still see that freakin’ MRI tunnel and the Animals song wasn’t helping matters much either.
Next tactic was for the tech to give me a specially designed mirror which actually did the trick. It’s designed kinda like one of those periscope thingys. You know, the kind you used to use as a kid when you were trolling the neighborhood at night wanting to sneak a peek at little Susie as she was undressing at night.
Well this mirror device allows you to see things that are in the MRI room, including the tech person, rather than seeing the MRI. It’s pretty neat. I observed part of the room where the tech was, what she was doing, (shaking her head and I think I caught her lip synching freakin’ wimp) and I also spent time looking at all the various objects in the room.
3,400,792 holes in their ceiling tiles.
So I really didn’t have any sense of being in an MRI or claustrophobic. Plus the tech was able to talk to me and give me a countdown as to how much time I had left, which helped, because knowing how much time you have left is rather comforting.
I’m not sure if she was talking about how much time I had left in the MRI or how much time I had left to live by the results of the MRI however.
When it was all said and done I emerged from the MRI unscathed, but stupid. The pill effects.
But, not too stupid as in the last time that I had an MRI and couldn’t remember anything that I did the rest of the day. Which would have been a perfect opportunity to pull a bank job and plead amnesia if caught.
Eventually that pill did wear off and I was fine by around 6 or 7pm. And I’d recommend those options to anyone who is going to have a cat scan or MRI. Especially the uncontrollable sobbing, wailing, grabbing trousers and sobbing parts. Ya do what ya have to do to get what ya want.
Now the main purpose for my MRI was to determine why I am constantly having headaches.
I personally think it’s from writing stupid stuff on this computer each and every day for the past 5 years. That would give anyone a freakin’ headache as well as make them stupid without taking any pills.
But, as of yet I do not have the results from the MRI. Just a prescription that I’m taking to ease my headaches and a box of tissues should I want to try that uncontrollable sobbing tactic on my other half in order to get what I want.
HEY! If it worked on the doc, cripes I might as well try it on my other half.
Hope this piece of information helps those of you suffering from claustrophobia. Shop around and find a doc that will accommodate you.
And, as I said, if that fails and his office does not have that stupid pill, the headset or that mirror device, then opt for the Jack Daniels, swig down the entire bottle before you take the MRI, and trust me, you won’t give a rats ass what the hell they do or how long and dark that MRI tube is.
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