Who knew I was a closet fidgeter? Not me, that’s for sure, until today. I had my MRI this afternoon, just on my ankle.
Set-up dude did a great job getting me comfie, propping up the offending foot, strapping it in position. He gave me earplugs and strict instructions to ‘hold the fuck still so I can get outta here on time tonight, it’s new years eve goddamit’. Okay, he didn’t say that, but I’m pretty sure that was what he was thinking. And who can blame him. I didn’t wanna do it twice either, I’m a busy girl, places to go (home) things to do (bottle of wine).
I didn’t mind it so much, it was kind of nice, being able to just lay there, quiet, undisturbed, for 35 minutes. I kind of like the thrumming drone of the machine. I picked out my favorite pitch (the lowest one, the one that made my butt vibrate and my fingers tingle). Until I started thinking about remaining still. What if I twitched? Not like, voluntary, but you know, like a muscle spasm. If it was my toe would it matter? What if my leg shifted, again, against my will? Would we have to do it over? Shit. Holding still was getting harder by the second. Did my toe just move???? Crap, I think it did. Well, maybe not. How much longer? What if my OTHER leg moves? Will that be a problem?? I think my other foot just moved. Oh hell, who knows. They’ll tell me if I move and don’t know it, right? Shit, the “squeeze this if you need to stop the procedure” thingy just fell off my lap. What if I need it? What if this thing goes bug-shit and turns into a microwave oven or some unheard of shit like that??? I’m going to need that squeezy thing, right? Did my foot just move? Aaaahhhhhggggg. Is it okay to move my head? Of course it’s okay, or maybe I shouldn’t. Everything is connected, right, so maybe that will affect my FUCKING RIGHT ANKLE, WAY THE HELL DOWN THERE, as far away from my head as anything on my body….
So much for relaxing. The remaining 18 minutes were a loop-reel of the above monologue. Fabulous. I’m nuthin’ but work people. White glove case all the way, at least, on the inside.
P.S. This is not MY ankle, just AN ankle, but that IS the areas of interest. We’ll see what comes of it.
P.P.S. On the positive….no undetected metal implants came flying out of me like something out of Alien…this is a good thing I think. Yes, the absence of bloody metal implants ripped from my body is most def a good thing. I don’t know if that’s what happens, but I’m using my imagination here, for lack of education. The trademark of my American middle-class upbringing! Go me!!