Look Closely

It's been a tough couple of weeks.

You'd think being out of work all this time would be a good thing. But I am so limited in what I can do, it's driving me nuts.

Speaking of driving, I can't. I tried to drive my car since it came home last week, but the manual transmission is giving me a hard time. So, I still depend on chauffeurs (thanks, Ron and Phil!). Not like we can go far, since I can't sit in a car for long. This is the perfect time of year to go for a ride to enjoy all of the fall colors but yeah, I can't do that.

Perhaps working in the garden, planting all the spring flowers I wanted to plant this fall? No, can't do that. I know! Playing POGO on the computer! No, can't do much of that either. I still have to pay someone to come clean my house since I can't do that either. Something is just wrong when someone tells you in your own house to move your feet, so they can vacuum. Yeah, that's kinda wrong.

I have developed a new respect for my local library. I'm there often. Reading is one thing I can do sitting up or laying down. My one joy in life right now? Large print books from the library!! Yeah, I'm old AND laid up! Hey, sometimes it's hard to read lying down when you have to look through a bifocal.

So, this has been my life lately. Therapy that doesn't seem to do crap and doing my best between a chair, a recliner and the bed.

However, I did have two MRIs yesterday. This truly was one of the worst things I've had to do physically in my life! I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. I made the mistake of choosing an MRI facility without an open MRI. I didn't realize this was going to be as big of a deal as it was.

Lucky for me, I had the foresight to take a little help in the shape of a pain pill before I went. It wasn't much of a help but it was better than nothing. The MRI was a freaking tube about 6 feet long of which I had to fit INSIDE. Trust me when I tell you, there is more room in a coffin (appropriate analogy for the day) than there was in this freakin' tube for me. Perhaps if you are a skinny minny, this wouldn't bother you. But, if you have some meat on your bones like I do, this was as close to hell on earth as I ever want to see.

With back pain, the first challenge was getting me comfortable on the table. Once as comfy as I could be, they put the headphones on me. The machine is extremely noisy (especially when you are IN it) plus I was able to bring a CD from home to have some comfort while I'm in there. Then I was given my panic ball. It's sort of like a call bell for the nurse when you're in the hospital, but instead of having to find the button on top of the switch, any part of the ball would sound the alarm. If sounded, the techs would rush into the room with me to get me out of the machine. I tested my panic ball a few times, just to make sure it worked . . . it did. Then I tested it a few more times, again, just to make sure.

We started the MRIs with the upper back, so I had to go into the tube head first. I walked all around this thing before we started, trying to assure myself that I would be ok IN it. While laying on the table, I still thought I might be ok. Then the table started to move. I'm guessing I'm in the machine to just before the shoulders. The technician told me to close my eyes while she centered me in the machine. Ok, I'm calm, collected, all is ok in my world. Then she told me it was ok to open my eyes. HELLO?!?!?! The freaking top of the tube was only INCHES from my face! INCHES! As soon as I saw that, I started to panic. This was not going to be as easy as I thought.

Immediately, the two technicians with me started to talk to me, and put a hand somewhere on me to comfort me. They didn't want to bring me all the way out of the machine, but they wouldn't put me in farther until I was ok with it. So, they calmed me a little and let me catch my breath and then we'd try again to get me in this tube. To be honest, I didn't think I was going to fit.

My shoulders touched the sides of the tube. By the time we got lower, my arms were absolutely compressed to my body and I thought for sure I was going to be crushed in there. To absolutely be held in place was a frightening experience. With modern technology what it is, I can't believe we have to live with this inhumane machine. I knew the machine would be loud and I expected that. I heard what sounded like a dentist's drill followed by what sounded like a jackhammer. After that, it sounded like a fire alarm. Ok, that started a mild panic again. I waited to hear if they were running into the room after me, but no one was coming in. Then I thought maybe it was because it was the machine that was melting down and there could be a radiation leak so no one WOULD come in and I would just burn up in that damn machine. Trust me, it got hot in there when the scan was running. Finally, it ended and the techs came through the headphones telling me I was doing great and they asked me how I was feeling. I asked about the fire alarm and they told me that it was part of the scanning and to be expected. That allayed some fears but I wish they'd have warned me about that one. I was terrified in there for the thirty minutes of the first scan. It was the longest thirty minutes I can remember living through. Especially the last couple of minutes; there is a fan blowing air in to you (of course, I had that fan on full blast) and it is blowing up by where my head was. I had my hair balled up and under my head so it wouldn't get caught in the moving table, but one hair came loose and was blowing in the wind and of course, tickling my chin. You want to talk torture? I couldn't move my hand up if my life depended on it! Finally, a hand on my leg told me the first scan was over and they were bringing me out of the machine. AMEN!

They got me out and I'm telling you, I was about ready to kiss the ground. The tech told me I could have a break between scans while they reset the machine and I definitely took advantage of it. I headed out to the lobby where my chauffeur of the day, brother Phil, was waiting for me. I got a hug, a glass of water and a little sympathy. It was then time to go back in for more torture.

This time, they minimized the torture; they put me in the machine feet first. Going in feet first for my lower back scan, I didn't have to go in as far (I'm guessing) and instead of having my arms at my sides, I could put my arms up and over my head. That helped negate the helplessness feeling. I was in the machine until my head was just inside of the machine. Helped with the breathing that way too. Then again, after the first half hour, just about anything was better.

This scan did go a little easier. After my half hour this way, they pulled me out to shoot me up with some dye. Since I've had previous back surgery, they needed some contrast in case scar tissue was hiding anything. She put one needle in and blew my vein. Since she didn't get enough dye in before the vein blew, she had to stick me again. Not pleasant for sure. However, once the dye was in, the last of the scans took about six minutes and I was DONE. I never thought I would make it through all of that! But it was finally over and I was totally spent, emotionally and physically.

Now, today is my last day scheduled of physical therapy and Monday I go to the doctor to get the results of my MRIs. I do have a set of films here, but I can't make any sense out of them. I'll update when I know more.

So, there is my horror story for Halloween. Actually, I have another blog I need to write since our house has been a little more active than usual this week! But, that's for next time.