MRI

There I was, flat on my back, inside a tube, preparing for take off. 10, 9, 8, 7...

It wasn't my first MRI, or even the second. I've had several over the years, just to monitor an anomaly in my brain that was discovered twenty-some years ago when my doctor was looking for something else. Nothing ever changes, but we have to check on it occasionally to make sure.

So, there I was...

According to mayoclinic.org, "Magnetic Resonance Imaging (MRI) is a technique that uses a magnetic field and radio waves to create detailed images of the organs and tissues within your body. Most MRI machines are large, tube-shaped magnets. When you lie inside an MRI machine, the magnetic field temporarily realigns hydrogen atoms in your body." It works differently from a CT scan (cat scan), which "combines a series of X-ray images taken from different angles, and uses computer processing to create cross-sectional images, or slices, of the bones, blood vessels and soft tissues inside your body," providing more detailed information than plain X-rays do. Unlike an MRI, having a cat scan doesn't require total encasement in a tube.

The MRI itself doesn't hurt, but it sure is noisy. It sounds like, well, a rocket preparing for takeoff, at least some of the time.  The sound varies from one minute to the next, sometimes buzzing, often clanking loudly and repetitively. An MRI is so loud that the earphones I wear to block out the sound are quite ineffective, but straining to hear the music provides some diversion, I guess.

At our hospital, the technician always gives me a choice of music and, so far, I've always chosen contemporary Christian music. In the process, I've learned something about myself: I really don't like to lie still and listen to music, even Christian music! It is so hard for me to refrain from singing along! I've realized that I always harmonize when I'm listening to the radio in the car and if, by chance, I'm listening to music while I work, I'm likely to be singing or humming along most of the time.

An MRI is never a quick procedure. Mine took about 40 minutes. That's 40 minutes of lying flat on my back in a hospital gown, covered with a nice warm blanket that invariably makes me too hot, about half way through the process; 40 minutes with my head velcroed in place, inside a plastic cage; 40 minutes of lying with my eyes closed most of the time, so I don't begin to feel claustrophobic inside that tube; 40 minutes of enduring that insufferable noise! It's almost a relief when the technician slides me out of the tube momentarily, halfway through, to inject some dye into a vein. I'm always thankful when he finds a vein on the first try, like he did this time.

I know several people who have to be thoroughly sedated so they can lie still for an MRI. Some feel so "closed in" that they have to have sedation. My technician has been working at our hospital as long as I've been having MRIs. He tells me that it's never a pleasant experience for anyone--the best part is when it's over. But I'm grateful for MRI technology anyway, because it is a non-invasive procedure that can show my doctor exactly what's happening in my brain, or whatever part of the body he wants to investigate. It sure beats exploratory surgery! 

So, here's to Magnetic Resonance Imaging, the best invention since the Apollo rocket that blasted those American astronauts clear to the moon and back. My journey was successful, and it is over, for now. I have landed.

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.  Joshua 1:9