MRI- Valium and pancakes
Random oddity: Today was #nationalblueberrypancakeday.
I read this at 530am on the way to the hospital. Made mention to Joe. We were driving blurry eyed. Me anxious having to literally take a fist full of Valium to make it through an open MRI. It's still claustrophobic and awful.
Backing up we drive for what doesn't seem long enough. I'm hoping as I drive I get lost and don't have to do this awful test. I think of any way to get lost but somehow still make my way. We park in an almost empty parking lot. Walk a maze to get to the doors - we are buzzed in. The admissions lady was a true Southern peach with an enourmously happy demeanor. Who can be that happy at 6am on a Saturday uncaffinated? She was though, I took my first few pills at the desk getting signed in.
Another overly nice, for 6am Saturday morning, gentlemen came to take me to Radiology Ian. He asks if I've had this done before. "Yes, several times. Last time it took 8 tries on 2 dif days before they finally sedated me to get the pics." He assured me today was the day I'd conquere the machine and he'd be there to help me through anything. Somehow I believed him. This person I just met. Ever meet someone and they just give off this amazing positive and sweet feeling? Ian was my main man this morning.
Walking in he showed me the machine, all the dif parts I'd be going into. Gave me the reg spiel no metal, glasses etc. Where to put my belonging. How to lie on the long uncomfortable slab of metal. How to bend my entirely sore arm. These cool contraptions he placed on my shoulder that were tiny cameras. He gave me an entire other first full of pills as he saw my brow fill with sweat. Panic on my face. While an open MRI this beast of a machine is so close to your face when you breath in deeply you touch the top of it. Not an inch from your nose is the entire mass of machine that stretches your whole body. The sides are bigger than the regular MRI by a few inches. It's still like being inside a coffin to me.
I kept moving my right pinky off the table to feel the cool air in the room outside this tube. Eyes closed so tight I might have got crows feet today. They say to keep your eyes closed. I could feel my breath coming back onto my face I was so close to the machine. Originally I had a blanket in me but told Ian I'd get nervous and hot so that went. The first 45 second once inside I had to keep focusing on being at the beach --pain free. It was hard all of me wanted to scream and worse sit up. Straight up and bolt. You can't you'd get stuck and also hit your head. They really should fix blowing air over-top of you from one end of open tube. The most is fear of not being able to breathe feeling the air would calm that fear. It was my feedback to Ian. He agreed and hopes one day it's approved. I closed my eyes tight and tears fell down my face. I thought "here I go failing at getting better and the tests are just starting!" I don't openly pray in ways most do. But I internally called out to my mom to help me get through this simple yet terrifying procedure. She died in 2009. But I still talk to her in my thoughts when I am scared, or sad, or just some major thing happened I wish she was here for. She always knew the right things to say. Right meal to prep. Right person to slap hah. The best joke to tell. She helped me today, I know it.
We did not have to restart the test. I just did deep breathing and positive thought. Ian brought me out and as soon as test was done I started to shake uncontrollably. The scared adrenaline response. He gave me a hug and said, "YOU DID IT! 1st try! I guess someone up there knew you needed this test done to start your healing."
*picks jaw up off floor*
Joe was in the waiting room, reading a book and sipping his coffee slowly when I came back through the glass doors. I stood a moment and just looked at him. Doped up on mass Valium my eyes were dropping but the butterflies still fluttered when I saw him sitting in the hospital waiting room. I just stared a moment until he realized I was there, smiled when he saw me and was shocked it was done so quick. In moments like this I still pinch myself. He's remarkable to look at. Perfect pixie nose, quaffed hair, piecing blue eyes, nice crossfit physique. But while he's pleasing to my eyes I just looked at him so relieved he was there to Chaffeur me home. The comfort within the sight of him reclining there patiently at 7ish am on a Saturday morning reading his book and enjoying coffee; him looking to me so lovingly when he noticed I was coming toward him. I lock these moments away. Those unspoken, spontaneous, romantic (crazy huh?) moments of pure care and devotion.
Shortly after he got me in the car, drove to nearest coffee and got me my favorite Starbucks drink (white chocolate mocha-hot) while I napped in the car. I don't remember much else of the morning beyond talking about National pancake day.
He tucked me in bed and went to watch some crossfit friends compete for cystic fibrosis. Came home with ingredients to make me a special dinner. Drum roll please......Yep, my love made homemade pumpkin chocolate chip pancakes for dinner. He's so silly but it was such a great gesture. We binge watched Greys Anatomy (he never watches that but knew I just needed a couch day) while he finished his book. The kids all occupied each other after checking on me knowing I just needed a less stress kind of relaxing day. Tomorrow is family day!
Today I actually conquered my MRI fear, felt all gooey in love, and was spoiled with coffee, pancakes, and a Netflix binge. Not bad for what could have been an awful day.
Time for bed. Tomorrow is a baby shower, meal prep for the week and family game night. Hope everyone had a great Saturday!