I laughed to myself as the tech hovered over me and put in an IV line. The large white machine loomed in the background and I tried hard not to look at it. The machine was massive but the opening was small, and from the sounds I heard as I waited my turn in the hallway, it was loud. Deafeningly loud.
I laughed because one of my favorite shows on TV is “House”, and it was easy to pretend that this was a scene right out of last week’s rerun episode. I remember them strapping the patient in and putting the cage like screen over her face. I imagined the conversations they’d have in the booth at the foot of the machine while I lay there wondering what my outcome would be. I cant say I was disappointed when they put a small towel over my face so I didn’t have to watch the cage come down and latch over my face, just mere smidgens from the tip of my nose. They had stuffed ear plugs into my ears, put padding around my head, strapped my head down to the tray, and then they finished giving me instructions. I tried hard not to laugh, but it seemed ironic. They gave me the last of the instructions as they pushed me way inside the machine, full of plugs and padding to keep me from hearing. The fact I heard every word they said meant that their attempts were had failed miserably.
I suddenly got wigged out. There was no moving, I couldnt see if Iwanted to, and there was an odd feeling as my belt, suddenly began to pull me up off the table. My belt had rivets all the way around it and this MRI machine was a big magnet. I asked if this would be an issue and they said it was fine, just lay still. Sure thing. I’ll just lay here with my middle barely touching the table. I couldnt help wonder what a magnet of this size does to a person’s bridge-work with metal parts? Will I still have my teeth when this was all said and done? I know, crazy, but odd things go through your mind when you are left with just the amusement of your own thoughts.
This was old hat to them. To me? Yeah, it was a big deal. A flippin big deal. This scan of my head would be proving there was or wasnt something in there. The outcome didn’t probably much matter to them. What did was that they stayed on time, efficient, and that they got in all the scheduled patients that day. To use a technical term here, they did a TON of loud, long scans and then injected dye into my arm that traveled to the vessels in my brain and to give a contrast image to compare the scans against. The first tech said I wouldn’t feel a thing over some piped in speaker that sounded what i assume the voice of God must sound like, but I did feel it. I felt it travel, and I felt when it flooded into my lips and my mouth. They felt warm and thick. Then I felt something oddly warm and cool at the same time right behind my eyes. It made me wonder if things were going okay if i could feel it?
Apparently it was fine because they finished and told me I could be on my way. The ending was non eventful – and without any drama. I am not upset by this, mind you. This is real life, not an hour long drama. You dont really WANT drama. You dont want crazy techs running you down in the parking lot because they found some scary something, and you certainly dont want crazy unknown symptoms waiting around the corner… The fact I am I still am waiting on the results? THAT proves it’s pretty normal. I hate waiting. I hate it a lot.
For now – real life has me off of all caffeine, no pain meds of any kind, many new meds, and going off of others I had been taking with good success, so add in a dose of frustration to go with it all. I am detoxing my body of many meds that were giving me more issues than they were helping with. The end result, we hope, will be some peace. This is not an exact science, my Doctor repeated about twelve times over the course of my appointment. Okay – I get it. In other words, it’s a crap shoot, but better than nothing. We hope it means that I will not live every day of my life with a headache of some sort, and many days with migraines. But the process is long and hard. It is a painful process and it’s not fast in it’s progression.
As if this was not enough to do – I decided to add a retinal tear to the mix. I guess I have some need to create drama where there was none – and to mix in more where there was plenty. I couldn’t even wait till my next “take a look see” appointment on Monday – no – the blasted thing has gone and gotten worse and so I now have to see the doctor on an emergency fit-me-in appointment. I am tired, cranky, irritable, and in pain.
I look over to the fridge and stuck to it with a million other things is this quote: “Christi can do all things through Christ who strengthens her” Phil 4:13
It’s handwritten by my friend and mentor, Marcia. You’ve no clue how many times I look over at it and just when I think I am gonna come unglued, and that quote seals me back together. She inserted my name into the scripture so that I would feel it personally – because when she wrote it I needed it personal in a big way. But when DONT I need it personal?
So the new appointment is made, and what happens next is yet to be seen. Do I do surgery? More waiting? What I do know is that God is already ahead of me and has paved the way. We will see what he has planned, and I know he’ll walk me through whatever it is.
Keep up to date with what’s going on: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/christicampbell