Magnetic Horrors

Going for my shoulder MRI this afternoon. Hate the tunnel. No, seriously, hate it. Experience terrible claustrophobia any time I get near the damned thing and that's all our insurance will pay for. Thanks, Barry. (Gotta blame someone, right?)

Anyway, the hoped-for outcome will be that I can walk into my ortho appointment on Monday with both shoulder and knee MRIs for the Doc to look at and finally get something in the way of a diagnosis and pathway to recovery.

That's what I'm hoping for, anyway. And if you hear a sort of echo-y, muted screaming from somewhere near the SU hill, you'll know it's me, lost and alone in that tunnel of magnetic horrors...

LPK
LiveJournal
2.12.2016 (a)

Life on This Side

It's done. I've got the CD of my shoulder MRI. Right here. In my hands. Which means that I'm now prepared to walk into the doc's office on Monday. For whatever comes next.

Generating an improbable whirlwind of activity that started with a call to the ortho office late yesterday, I managed to drop Her Nurseliness off on the hill for her yearly physical, drive out to Widewaters and pick up my script for valium, drive back to the hill to pick up Her Nurseliness, drop her and the script off at the hospital, wait for it to be filled, and then drive them both home.

Then, with Her Nurseliness safely on her way to the casino--where else?--I made a trip out to Brittonfield for an unrelated but time-sensitive prescription from my internist and got back in time for my son to drive me to my MRI appointment back on the hill. (For those not properly impressed, this qualifies as a "whirlwind" if you're a 70-plus guy with a bum leg, LOL.)

The valium, it was hoped, would assure an uneventful passage in and out of the dreaded tunnel. The previous MRI, the one for my knee, involved only a feet-first submersion, up to the neck. And, because I was on the verge of panic during that one, I figured there was no way that I was gonna disappear headfirst into that pulsing, magnetic hellhole, for an upper-body MRI, without real problems.

So I called the ortho office and arranged to pick up the valium script early next morning. After which, I would hand-deliver it to the pharmacy and then, with luck, would pick up the completed order mere hours before the--shudder--event.

The script said (2) 5 mg. tablets, the first to be taken 30 minutes before my appointment and the second to be taken if I found that the one was not sufficient..

However, because I live on the freakin' reality side of that dark and fearsome portal between this life and the pulsing, pounding, near-death experience which now awaited me, I told Her Nurseliness, "F*ck that, what am I supposed to do once I'm in that effing tunnel and my effing soul is about to explode through my skull? Reach into my pocket, pull out the second pill and then wait 20 minutes for it to work? Screw that, I'm taking 'em both!"

Which is what I did. And it worked out just fine. Except for almost falling on my face as I exited the car in front of the hospital. And, a second or two later, nearly getting run over while crossing the street to the Imaging Dept. All of it aptly summed up in a snarky comment from somewhere in the waiting room as I struggled to get out of my chair. Something like, "I want what the old guy had for lunch." But, other than that, no problems.

So that part of it is over. Now all I have to do is sit home for a couple of days while I wait for my Monday appointment to roll around. Which makes me wonder: if I could TRULY explain what life is like around here, would they write me up for a couple more pills?

If they did, same deal. I'd take 'em both...

LPK
LiveJournal
2.12.2016 (b)