A Cacophony of Clunks . . .

The MRI scan has been done!

The Old Boot and I went to HSC Friday night for my MRI, and arrived about half an hour early. All of the vendors that set up in the main hallway there were gone, there were hardly any people around, and the hospital was quite quiet. Usually when you go there during the day, the main hallway is like a shopping mall with vendors selling handbags, jewellry, and other gift-type stuff, and it's noisy and crowded. The only place open was the gift shop.

We found the MRI department very easily and only had to wait about twenty minutes before I was called in. I got changed into the standard gear (IV gown, robe) and had the usual prep done (insertion of an IV line for contrast medium), then was ushered into the MRI room.

I was expecting a bigger machine. I don't know why I expected a bigger machine, but I was rather surprised at how small it was. The nurse and technician got me positioned on the bed, put a block under my knees, a pillow under my head, and a heated blanket over me, then stuck earplugs in my ears to help block out the noise. They also put a band around my chest to monitor my breathing. The instructions were pretty simple: "We'll tell you when to breathe and when to hold your breath for the actual scans. If you panic, holler out; we'll hear you." Okay, that sounds easy enough. They started the bed moving into the machine and left.

So here I am, inside a narrow tube with very little wiggle room. My first thought was "This feels like a coffin!" My second thought was "Don't be an idiot; they don't put lights in coffins." There were two lighted strips running the length of the tube, thank heavens.

The test starts: "Breathe normally." I hear clinking and clanking. "Take a deep breath in and hold it." More clinking and clanking. "Okay, breathe normally through these noises." Thump, thump, thump. "Take a deep breath in, and let it all out. Hold your breath." Clink, clank, tappita-tappita-tappita.

And so on, for about half an hour. I was really quite surprised at the variety of noises an MRI machine makes.

The technician realized I was able to go for twenty seconds with my lungs deflated and, since this gets better scans, she kept having me deflate my lungs. This doesn't sound terribly hard, but try doing it yourself. It's easy to hold your breath for twenty seconds with your lungs full of air, but a lot harder when your lungs are empty. Your body's automatic response is "Oxygen! Suck up some oxygen, for heaven's sake!!!! We're dyin' here!!!!"

The last couple of scans that were taken required contrast medium. With a CT scan, the contrast medium has the effect of giving your body a hot rush. This contrast medium just gives you a funny taste in your mouth. I found it tasted like Orajel or novocaine and only lasted for a few seconds.

Anyway, the MRI is now done and I see my oncologist on Thursday for the results.

An Update to Friday's Post

If you go to YouTube, there are several versions of Mars, Bringer of War. This is, I think, the best sound, and since it's just a still picture, it loads quite quickly.



There are seven movements to Holst's The Planets suite. Another one I really enjoy is Jupiter, Bringer of Jollity. Here is the YouTube link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3B49N46I39Y

You'll have to copy and paste the link into your browser because it won't let me add a live link to this clip. Watch the conductor's face on this one - he really lives and breathes the music. If you have a good ear for music, you will probably recognize parts of this piece because it has been used in many films; in fact, a lot of bits and pieces from The Planets have been used in films as background or mood music.

Also, a note to those of you who, like me, love words. The Roman gods had many names. Jupiter was the main god of the city of Rome, and he was also known as Jove, as in the interjection "By Jove!" We also get from his nickname the word jovial, meaning good humoured, marked by jollity and conviviality.

-- Lori