I hate MRIs

"Oh, it's no big deal."
"It's just a few pictures of your brain."
"It's fine - nothing to worry about."

That's what people tell you about MRI's. DON'T make the mistake of believing them. Let me walk you through this experience that I just had:

Step 1: I went to the receptionist, who looked to be about my sister's age (15), and announced that I have arrived for my MRI. I bet she's so young that she doesn't even know what "MRI" stands for. Ha. (Wait a sec...what DOES "MRI" stand for? lol). She handed me a questionnaire a mile long, a pen, and a sympathetic look that said "good luck." I settled down to fill it out. Am I diabetic? No. Asthmatic? No. Pregnant? HECK no. Do I have a pacemaker? No. Have I ever had an eye injury that included metal? No. Do I have a penile prosthesis (that was actually a question!!) No. Do I have any number of about a hundred other diseases or problems that I have mostly never heard of? No, no, and no. I indicated that I do, however, have dental implants, because I wanted to make sure that the doctors knew about that so the magnets (the "M" in "MRI" is definitely "magnetic") in the MRI did not rip the teeth out of my skull. I figured that sounded unpleasant. I handed my filled out questionnaire back to the teeny-bopper, and I sat down to wait.

Step 2: Nurse Crazy called my name. "CHRISTINE!" Yes. That is me. I jumped out of my seat as if I had just been called by a drill Sargent, and I followed the nurse to the "dressing room." This is where you put on nasty hospital gowns and feel like an idiot. She ran through my questionnaire, asking me a bunch of the questions again verbally, as if I had been to dumb to read them correctly. I mentioned the thing about my dental implants, and she said, "Oh, that'll be fine. But...do you have any other types of implants...you know...anywhere else on your body?" *looking pointedly at my chest* NO, Nurse Crazy, I do not have any "other types" of implants. I answered the "breast enhancement" question with a "no" on your stupid questionnaire, didn't I? You're just jealous of my perfectly - NATURALLY - proportioned body. Plus, Nurse Crazy, I ask you - what if I DID have fake boobs? What does that have to do with a brain scan? What would you do about it? "HEY CHARLIE - We have a fake boober over here! Better get out the microscope in order to find her brain!" I didn't like Nurse Crazy. Luckily she left me to change, and I didn't see her again.

Step 3: New nurses came to fetch me from the dressing room. It was time for the main event. I walked into the MRI room, and it looked like a perfect set from the TV show House. Except, in House, people are always near death or dead. GET ME OUT OF HERE! I DON'T WANT TO BE ON THE SET OF HOUSE! Oh, well. I didn't get a choice. Nurse Perky told me to go ahead and lie down on my back so that she could prepare me for the scan. Nurse Nice took off my shoes and gave me a blanket. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all... Oh wait, Nurse Perky started talking again. She asked if I'm ready for my IV. I mean, is anyone ever really READY for an IV? But whatever. I said I was. So Nurse Nice comes over and sticks the needle in my arm, after which she immediately said "Oops." You NEVER want to hear a nurse say "Oops." Noticing my concerned face, Nurse Perky piped up with, "No worries! Just a little spillage!" I looked over at my arm. AHHHHHHHH!!! I looked like I could be an extra on Saving Private Ryan! "A little spillage?!?!?" Hand me that needle, nurse, and we'll see if YOU like "a little spillage." If you put an IV in someone and don't block it off correctly, they're going to start bleeding everywhere. Didn't they teach you that in nursing school, Nurse Nice? Huh? I mean, I thought we had a bond! I mentally named you "Nurse Nice!" Thanks for the blanket, but OW. Nurse Perky said, "Wow, good thing we brought a towel in here!" Yeah, Nurse Perky. Great. Do you want me to call the Red Cross? Am I going to need a side of blood transfusion to go along with my main course of MRI? They finally got the IV in correctly, and Nurse Perky said, "Well, the worst is over!" Thanks, Nurse. I thought you were going to cut off my leg too so this could look like a REAL horror movie, but I guess I'm okay with the arm thing being the worst part.

Step 4: The nurses prepared me for the scan. This means they put a crazy football helmet-like thing on my head, stuck ear plugs in my ears, and put wedges under my head so I wouldn't be able to move. They said they would be giving me a "panic button" to push if I had any problems or needed to come out. Then they lined me up with a laser going across my forehead (um, creepy), and said, "Okay, here we go!" Super. I couldn't wait for all the fun. They pushed the button and my bed slid into the MRI machine.

Step 5: I realized I was in a NASA space capsule. The hole they shoved me in was all white, with bright white lights running down either side of it. It was barely big enough to hold me. I started freaking out a little, and then I realized they had forgotten to give me the panic button. So THAT was more than a little disconcerting. I was trapped in a futuristic tube with no way out! AHHH! I noticed a tiiiiiiny mirror above my head. Was that supposed to be comforting? All I could see in it were my eyeballs. Is staring at yourself supposed to calm you down? I checked on my eyes: yep - still brown. I decided that if they started looking green, bulgy, and radioactive, then I would really have a reason to freak out. Otherwise, staring at my eyes was not going to help me. I started searching around the rest of my chamber (all without moving my head, of course). I noticed a small blue line that looked like it had been drawn in colored pencil. A clue left from a former MRI victim! But what did it MEAN? I tried to decipher it. It just looked like a normal line. I tried to follow it like an arrow, and it pointed to another tiny splotch in the chamber. I couldn't decide if a victim had spit out some gum or if their brain exploded in there. I didn't really want to know.

Step 6: Nurse Perky comes over the loud speaker with "You're doing great! Keep it up!" You were a cheerleader in high school, weren't you, Nurse Perky? And your football team sucked, didn't they? Because you are awfully good at cheering for no talent at all. "I'm doing great?!" Great at what? Splattering blood all over your lab and then laying in your medical/athletic equipment like a corpse? GOOOOOOO CHRISTINE!

Step 7: It was time to put the contrast in my IV. "Contrast" is what they shoot into your blood so that the blood patterns in your brain show up in neon. Cool, huh? So they shot this stuff into my arm, and it felt like an ice worm was wiggling its way to my shoulder. I mean, it was a struggling ice worm. Were my arteries that clogged? I thought guiltily of the Taco Bell I'd had for dinner, and I promised myself that I would eat more salads. I think the ice worm made it to my brain, because I started to get a bit drowsy. I quickly checked my eyes for negative effects from the ice worm. Nope - still brown. I was good.

Step 8: Twenty minutes later, FINALLY my MRI was over. Nurse Perky pushed the button to get me out of the capsule, and my bed slid out. She took off my helmet and held up a trash can. I looked at her questioningly. Was I supposed to puke or something? "It's for your ear plugs," she told me as if I were an idiot. Oh, SOR-RY. I threw my ear plugs in the bin, happy to get out of there. As I was getting ready to leave, I noticed that the digital reading above the MRI machine said "patient weight: 226 lbs." Now I KNOW that's not right. I looked again, and it said, "Patient name: Stephanie Gillespie." I turned to the nurse. "Umm...does it matter if my name's not Stephanie Gillespie and I don't weigh 226 pounds?" She said it didn't. Nurse Perky, being perky, said, "Oh no, that's fine! It's probably just for the next patient. But even if we scanned you under that name, it doesn't matter. We'll just transfer it to your right name later!" Uh huh, okay Nurse Perky. And your football team made it to the state finals.

Step 9: Nurse Perky showed me back to my dressing room. I got ready to go, but then hung out like an MRI spy to see who the next patient was. I saw her walk in. If I had to estimate her weight, I would probably say it was around 226. So I figured she was Stephanie Gillespie and I was in the clear. I high-tailed it out of there.

Do you still want to tell me that MRI's are no big deal?! HMMMMMMMMM???? Fine. Then you go have one.