You want me to put my lady parts where?

Magnetic Resonance Imaging – MRI.  Have you ever had an MRI?  It wasn’t too bad, but I am not too excited about doing it again.  But before I share my experience, let’s review the events leading up to this test: 

• My annual mammogram was performed and something looked abnormal
• A Stereotactic Biopsy was performed by Dr. Shorty Pants, ED and a stressed-out Nurse
• Nurse Grandma called and said I had the Big “C” and would need a MRI and surgery

So a couple hours after Nurse Grandma informs me I have cancer, the MRI scheduler calls.  She tells me if I am claustrophobic I should call my doctor to get some drugs, because this test might freak me out if I don’t like to be enclosed.  Since I have never had a MRI, I am not really sure if I “do” or “don’t” like to be enclosed.  Is it strange that I don’t know this about myself? I mean, I can handle being in a crowded elevator or a tanning bed, so maybe I’ll be okay?   Just to be safe, I decided to call my doctor. 

I call my Doc and request a prescription to help me get through a MRI (and by the way, I’ve got breast cancer).  She tells me how sorry she is, blah, blah, blah and says “no problem, I’ll call you in some valium and do you need Prozac too?”  Umm… no, I am not even sure I need the valium, but I’m feeling relatively happy so I decline anything for depression (unless the MRI is going to be performed by Dr. Shorty Pants and then I will need morphine). 

Since I don’t ever recall having valium, I’m not sure how it will affect me.  My only experience is when Romeo took it before his vasectomy and that was really funny.  Not the vasectomy, but how the drug altered his personality while he was waiting for “his” turn to get the big “V”.  Let’s just say he kept everyone in the waiting room entertained as he made fun of every male who gingerly walked out of the office (obviously just having “their” turn).  With that memory, I decided I wouldn’t take the valium because I wanted to be in full control of my personality when we met with the breast surgeon after the MRI.  So back to MY story…

The MRI technician is a nice young girl with perfectly white skin and beautiful auburn hair (we’ll call her Ira).  So Ira asks me if I have ever had an MRI before because some people just “can’t do it.”  But I reassured her I don’t think I’ll have a problem since tanning beds don’t bother me.  Ira’s eyebrows go up and she turns red.  Oh no… I should have known she was a sun hater; I brace myself for the tanning bed lecture.  Okay, so after I convince Ira I had only been in a tanning bed to see how it “felt” (not to actually use it) for purposes of this MRI, she begins giving me her (sunless) life story as she attempts to start my IV.   I am quietly praying for forgiveness for loving tanning beds and lying to Ira. 

As a side note, as far as I can tell, the purpose of the IV is it places bright blue dye into my bloodstream to enhance the imaging experience for the surgeon (and Romeo).  This ensures they have fun looking at my lady parts while also seeing my “colorful” cancer on the MRI films.  But that’s a story later to be told…

As Ira is starting my IV, I’m trying not to look because it typically makes me feel woozy.  But when she makes a noise that alerts me there is a problem, I look down and see I have a knot the size of a large marble on my hand where she just removed the IV needle.  I uncontrollably make that same noise that happens when I am in the car with Romeo and we are about to have a horrible accident (in my mind anyways).   You know the one where you breathe in real deep and it makes a surprised noise in your throat?  Romeo just HATES when I make that noise because it alarms him even more than the screaming after I catch my breath.  Anyway….. Ira manages to get the IV needle into my purple hand and walks me to the sewer pipe MRI machine to begin the test.

So, Ira tells me to lie on this narrow little board, on my stomach with my lady parts placed into the two cutouts.  I’m thinking… first, I am not even sure that little board is going to hold me up and, second, if it does, can I keep my balance until they slide me into that tiny hole?   At this point, I was wishing I had taken the valium even if it did alter my personality.

Somehow, I made it through the test even though the banging noise was really loud and my hand was throbbing from the first IV attempt.  After Ira slid me out, she complained she had to do the test three times because I was moving too much.  This was a sure sign we would probably not be BFF’s because Ira was just a little ticked.    

So that’s all for now because Brittney (my blogger advisor) keeps telling me my blogs are waaaay too long.  So tomorrow (or in a day or so), I will post the rest of the story which describes the interesting MRI images we viewed at the surgeon’s office.  Romeo refers to this story as “The Blue Nips,” but I personally think that is a little graphic and unlady-like for one of my post titles.  So we will see…. but stay tuned!