It's that time again. Time for the MRI scans.
I went in this afternoon and spent two hours in the tube so they could scan my chest and my leg, with and without contrast, looking for metastasis.
An MRI tube is a scary place to be. It's tight and enclosed and incredibly loud. Your instincts tell you that anything that loud and frightening is somewhere to get away from immediately. After I tamp down my fight or flight response, I spend the next twenty minutes keeping claustrophobia from slipping into the cramped tube with me. She's a sneaky phobia but keeping my eyes squinched shut helps.
After my heart stops racing and I relax a little, I am able to go looking for my happy places. I have many of them and they are a great comfort to me especially during times of medical distress. I ease in with some lovely thoughts of sex and chocolate, then after I am sated with those, I start decorating my cozy mansion overlooking the sea.
Travels to the rocky coast of Ireland, swinging in a hammock on a beach in Aruba, reading books in my garret tower on a storm tossed afternoon, then back for a little more sex and perhaps some baked goods this time and before I know it I am being woken from my half-doze as the tech comes in to release me from the tube and send me on my way.
Now, I just have to wait a few days for the results. While the tube is uncomfortable, the waiting can be nearly unbearable.
I'll post the results soon; now excuse me while I go back to my happy places.
