Magnetic Fields

There's nothing really like a ginormous, super-high-powered magnet whirling away mere inches from your body.

I'd read somewhere online that fully loaded pallet jacks had been sucked into the mouths of MRI machines, so when the technician told me I could set my locker key down on a table just a few feet from the machine, I kinda figured I was done for. Visions of projectile keys--aimed at my skull--floated in my nervous head.

I escaped such an ignominous fate; I suppose the newfangled machine I was in was geared down a bit--or maybe the key was made of some fantasically metal-like, yet non-magnetic material... The key stayed in its place on the little plastic table. One hazard avoided.

I also got to leave my (also apparently non-magnetic) rings on my fingers and toe. I did notice, though, a not-so-faint tingling sensation in my fingers during each little session. During the time that I rested my hands on my chest or belly, I could certainly feel that tingling through my body. I fully expect the doctor to call me up and say that they have to re-take some of the images due to some mysterious jiggling of my innards. Jiggling innards=blurry images. The technician told me so, right after he offered me a tissue--concievably to stem my constant sniffling (hello? have you met me? oh. no you haven't. I sniffle. A lot.)

So I'm laid out on a plastic-y bed-ish sort of thing, complete with a comfy pillow and a wedge for under my knees. I get squishy earplugs, because the machine is hella loud. A big half-circle cage thing goes down over my torso, effectively strapping me down and placing me in mummy position (arms at my sides or crossed in front of me--my choice, and changeable during 5-10 second breaks during the procedure). The tech places a white washcloth over my eyes..."To keep out the blowing air--kind of like on airplanes--the engineers didn't account for that bit of discomfort" and explains the noisiness that is about to ensue. There will be 4 (or was it 5) short sessions of the MRI machine doing its thing. A few minutes here, a few minutes there. Between each session, he'll give me a little signal that I can twitch or change arm positions or sniffle. As long as I'm *COMPLETELY* still while the machine is running, it's all good.

The first session is short--piece of cake. There is a chirping sound from the machine that, if I keep my eyes closed (and why not? can't see anything through the washcloth anyway), I can almost imagine that it sounds a little like a bird twittering in a lovely pastoral scene. Nevermind the clicking, humming, buzzing business going on around my lower back. I stay in the same position for the second session, which is four minutes. Four minutes doesn't seem like a long time, but when you've been lying in the same EXACT position for the previous 3 minutes, things start to get....itchy. I can now feel every individual hair on my head an body, and every follicle is demanding the attention of a fingernail. I repress the urge to scratch, take some deep breaths (slowly, so's not to do undo jiggle-damage), and manage to stay still. By the time four minutes pass and I get another short break, I know that I cannot succumb. If I do, I'll never be able to stop.

The next pass is another four minutes, and I've lowered my arms to my sides for this one. Big mistake. They almost immediately started to fall asleep, as they are wedged against the bars of the cage. Perhaps the frustration of this is what triggers me into a near panic over the thought that, not only can't I move my arms, I can't sit up or *really* move in any other manner either. I don't really consider myself claustrophobic, but I hate large crowds, and I have serious issues with being "pinned" in any way, so I had some serious issues with the idea that I was pretty much at the whimsy of the MRI tech watching from the other room. What was I going to do, wiggle my feet at him if I needed to get out? I take a few more deep breaths and get a hold of myself. It's only a few more minutes, after all.

Indeed, shortly after my short little dance with a panic attack, I hear the machine wind down. But there is no reassuring tin voice from the other room. Several very very long seconds pass, and I start to panic again. Did he step away to use the toilet? Did a bomb threat evacuate the building? How the hell am I going to get out of here if he doesn't come back? I'm sure isn't more than 20-30 seconds, but it feels like days before I hear him say that the next pass would be 5 minutes. Five Minutes. I cross my arms over my chest this time. Slightly more comfortable than having them at my side, but with the added fun of the possibility that they might slide down at any moment. I spend those five mintues concentrating very hard on keeping my arms in the same position on my chest, panicking just a little more, and wishing like hell that someone would come along and scratch the side of my nose.

Finally, five minutes is up. I doze off a time or two. I am getting the hang of it, and getting more and more freaked out. Genious, the way our bodies and brains are programmed! One more short session, and I am free. I concentrate on the bird singing behind my head, and wonder what the technician thinks of my feet, which were bare and nasty and pointed directly at his seat in the other room. I try to peek out from under the washcloth a few times, to no avail. I can see nothing because there is a giant white plastic tube a few inches from the washcloth. They tend to obstruct your vision.

I wait again for the tinny voice from the tech, but instead I feel myself starting to move out of the tube. Suddenly, there is light, and the washcloth is lifted. My plastic cage is unlocked, and I am encouraged to sit up. I immediately scratch (nearly) every inch of my skin--my head, my face, arms, legs...it all itches like I'm covered in BEES (props to Eddie Izzard). But I'm done.

The images will be sent "upstairs"; the folks there will read them and then call my doc with their findings. My doc will then call me and I'll get the watered down version of what's going on in my lower back. I hope that I get to see the images at some point, if for no other reason than it would be super cool to see inside my body. That, and some answers.