So yeah…ok, I kinda had to/”wanted” to get an MRI. No biggie or so I thought. It was all very simple, to get an MRI to just KNOW, ya know or to NOT? Well heck yeah, get er done! So that was literally the end of the conversation…until I got to my appointment.
So I get to the appointment on, of all days, Halloween afternoon! Yes, shoot me now. It was one thing left to put a check mark next to on my to-do list on that especially busy day. So after I arrive, I immediately see one person talk to another person upon reviewing my questionnaire and I hear her say, “Oh no, heck no, we can’t do this.” Then she proceeds around the window out to the waiting room and acts as if I did not hear her. She calls my name (I’m the only person in the waiting room BTW) and she tells me to come with her. As we are walking she says, “I just have a few questions… ok, are you nursing?” To which I reply, “Yes” all the while thinking – you just read that on my questionnaire so why ask? And she goes on to speak in another (medical) language I cannot quite decipher. The end all was that my doc ordered my MRI without contrast -whatever that meant- and that they had to do the MRI with contrast and so, I could not breastfeed with contrast. I tell her, “Look, I’m not crazy, my baby is practically weaning so the kid can go without TEETHING on me for two days, k? If we don’t do this now it won’t get done…” And honestly, I was thinking I could HAPPILY go without that –nursing-because that’s where we are at this point, I’m just his teether and it hurts ROYALLY and I mean LIKE YEAH royally. But I digress..So her hyper happy self joyfully says, “Great! Well, just make sure you pump and dump because – seriously you cannot nurse for 2 days.” She then takes me to my room where I get a locker and key all to myself and even fresh clean clothes and linens. I begin to think to myself – where I am… this is great?! I have lockers with keys in my own home yet I don’t have my OWN locker! (see Mine! Mine! Mine! Blog)
So the lovely lady comes back immediately and escorts me to the beautiful white room. Keep in mind that with all the drama this all happened within 5 minutes or less of my scheduled appointment. I get to the room and another person, a man, greets me. Here is this beautiful long place for me to lay complete with comfy pillows. They tell me to lie down and so I do. I am expecting them to tell me to strip because medically speaking I have for the last um 9 years due to my pregnancies but JOY they do not, I can be in this grand dwelling with medical clothes on! WOOT! I joked with them and said that no matter what I do I cannot get away from these ugly scrubs! I then told them that I had 8 babies within 9 years. After the WOWs and whatnots, they begin to chat with me at rapid speed so I am thinking they must be busy and want to get out of there for Halloween. I inquire to which they explain they are always on time and they go until to 6 pm. Sweet! I love people who are on time!
The next thing they do is put an IV in me. Oh joy. You would think I was a druggie by the way I directed the guy to my “good” veins. I reminded him, “8 kids in 9 years – trust me I’ve been pricked like crazy!” to which he chuckled.
They explain that I will be given earplugs because of the noise and that they will talk to me through the whole duration, that I have something that I can click if I need anything and then that I will be asked to hold my breath many times. Then they put this big thing over my stomach that weighs heavily on you and basically they shipped me on my way, literally.
So there I was moving…somewhere, but where? I was thinking, “oh, ok, well what next? How long does it last? Wassup?” I did not ask any questions because, as with typical Doc appointments I thought who cares, the sooner I get home the better.
So in I go to the “machine”. Dang, I don’t know what that thing is but it is SCARY like CRAZY SCARY. I just kept thinking of when I make cakes with the kids and I squeeze icing through that tube thingie – yeah that was me. Take a super large woman who can’t ever sit still or have her mind stop going a mile a minute and put her into that type of thing = NOT FUN.
So slowly I am pushed through this THING… At one point they stop. SILENCE. Yeah, you got it, like SCARY SILENT. I open my eyes and it’s white; like white IN YOUR FACE an inch from you white. I close my eyes and that’s scary too because I never close my eyes, not even when I sleep! Ha. (Just kidding) If ever my eyes shut it’s because I crash from exhaustion so I don’t have time to be scared. So at this point, eyes open or shut in this white pad I’m scared either way. I’m thinking is this what hell is like? Then I think no, because it’s white, too nice, silent and comfy because after all I was in a good place, alone, without anyone screaming. I just clearly do not know how to sit and be still (and well, KNOW GOD, as the passage goes). So, NO, not hell fo sho. Is this purgatory? Maybe only because purgatory is a place you don’t wanna be. But then again I am content to be alone in this place. I almost feel like I am being swaddled (because I can’t move) and again, there’s no pain, no screaming. And the weight from that thing on my stomach is actually making me feel like I have a flat tummy. SCORE! Is this Heaven? No, NOT heaven…just no. I mean if I had a choice of where to be – it would NOT be here.
So they keep moving me down into this thing. I’m thinking to myself, “It’s nice that you think I will fit but those hips ain’t gonna make it no mo’!” And then it begins. BEEP BEEP BEEP. SILENCE. BEEP BEEP BEEP. SILENCE. UZI UZI UZI (as in the sound of UZI guns).SILENCE. UZI UZI UZI. BEEP BEEP BEEP. So then I am chuckling in my head thinking, “Well so much for the peace and quiet! Geez! They don’t even warn me that I am going to feel like I am going to be attacked!” But since I live with 8 little kids and 1 big kid I’m like, “BRING IT ON!” All of the sudden my feeling claustrophobic and like I am going to puke from it and the sheer fact that I am not supposed to do anything or say anything for 30-45 minutes changes to daydreaming of me being in a war movie, anticipating the next round of ammunition to scare the crap out of me. Seriously, out of nowhere I feel like someone is kicking my big arse – on the left side…then on the right side…then I am being shot at all around me. Who dat?! What you got?! Bring it on! lol
But then it was silence…like LONG silence. And then I am wondering what’s going on. Am I dead? Did the machine kill me? Where is God? Then I hear a computer generated person say what I think says, “BRO-THER” and then later, “HOLD YOUR BREATH.” I finally understand she means, “Breathe in” and the only reason I know that is because the nurse informed me that I was going to have to breathe in and hold my breath. Being in the IT field I just kept thinking that they need to get a better system to speak for them because she’s clearly not cutting it. At one point I could not even hold my breath because in my head I was chuckling at her stupid voice. Who are you, anyways? You enter into my world without a proper introduction. How rude! I’m thinking I’ll just call her Eva (from WALLE). So back to the breathing thing. I knew it was going to happen but really, peeps, you all should really have warned me ahead of time – like a week ahead of time so I could exercise and get in shape for this. I am a huge tired woman. Holding my breath and sucking my fat post-partum gut in for 30 seconds every few minutes for 15 minutes is like asking me to run a triathlon! UGH.
Then, all of the sudden I hear the male say, “You are doing great, you will be done in less than two minutes.” Oh so now you chose to talk to me? You who told me that you would be talking to me the whole time? Yeah thanks buddy. Where were you when I needed you? You just wanted me for my scans. Shame on you! lol.
I am slowly exited from this thing and I’m like, “Wow, that was interesting…um, thanks.”
Fast forward to getting home after trick-or-treating and I have to pump. OMG. Dat nurse was NOT kidding! This stuff is blue! What the heck is this? Oh, good Lord, no wonder she was freaking out. Yeah, so, I will vowed NOT to nurse until that stuff came out crystal clear like crystal springs if you know what I mean!
Anywhoo, da moral of the story from me, the mom who birthed 8 kids in 9 years: I can handle pregnancy, I can handle the fear of labor and delivery, I can handle a C-section, I can a minor amount of UNMEDICATED labor, and I can handle medicated labor and delivery BUT an MRI, NEVER AGAIN. You couldn’t pay me enough to back to that place. If I want silence, or to wear ugly clothes or to get pricked with IVs I can get all of that taken care of at my annual trip to deliver my baby of the year. But being afraid? Fearing for my life? Being shot at? Running a triathlon? Yeah, no thanks cuz I need not leave my home for any of that. But I will take the ear plugs (thank you very much). So…yeah, just say NO to MRIs and YES to childbirth!