Day 61: the MRI scan

After a bit of "nudging" by telephone, I was approved for a scan (really nice of the Radiologist!) and went for it today. I had never experienced one of these, but had a rough idea of what to expect......

Trolled on down to Medway Hospital, found the MRI department thanks to a really helpful man standing by the front desk at main reception (the signposting is c***, I would never have found it without his help). Enter the MRI department................

Reception desk, no receptionist but there was a bell push and a handy notice advising me to ring for attention. Rang just as a chap in blue overalls, who looked as if he had recently dipped his head in a bucket of engine oil, popped up behind me. Quizzed me and was obviously, grudgingily, satisifed that I should be there; told me to complete two forms. Easy?? Nope.......no pens!! Off he went to find one.

Meanwhile, the receptionist breezes in. Breath of fresh air! Gives me her own pen, tuts a bit about how the pen pile keeps disappearing, smiles and engages in conversation. Fantastic.

Mr Engine oil returns with a pile of pens, checks that I have completed the forms and leads me to a cupboard. Here I am told to divest myself of clothes (except underwear) and to put anything I value in a locker (I think that he meant money, watch, wallet etc. rather than myself!). A plastic bag which had obviously had many previous occupants was proferred for my clothes!! I was then instructed to put on two gowns: one facing forward, the other backwards "to make sure eveything is covered".

Plastic bag in hand, I was led to the MRI suite proper and met by two more people in blue overalls. No idea what their profession was or what their names were, no introductions, but otherwise polite and smiling. Relieved of the bag and asked to confirm who I was, presumably just in case I was someone with a gown fetish who had sneaked in from the street. Then the fun began.........

I was now told that I had to have an IV (intravenous) injection to stop my guts moving and spoiling the pictures. Asked about side effects, no real answer given. No question about whether I am right or left handed, needle just went into what was, in fact, the wrong arm.

Asked how I get a copy of the eventual pics as I would like to have been involved and could, of course,  imagine framing a cross section of my body and hanging it in the loo . Not possible; the only was would be through the Hospital's Legal Department (!)  shame............maybe when all this is over.

Given earplugs as the machine is noisy and told that I would have headphones too which would have music of my choice playing. Asked for anything "real" e.g. Clapton, Hendrix, even Led Zeppelin if they were too obscure. Made the young lady smile; she said she would do what she could........

Headphones applied, emergency buzzer in hand, loaded into the machine literally up to my eyes. Noises, then a disempbodied voice in the headphones telling me that it was "about to start Sir". What a racket! Somewhere in the far distance I could hear music, but it was almost completely drowned out by the machine. Sounded the right vintage though. Only when the machine stopped did I hear a snatch of  a magic song............

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zItIa8TWu1M

How appropriate was that????

Hint: ask them to turn the volume up to 11 before they load you in the machine......unless you like machine noise

Many stops and starts later, I am unloaded. Now I know why young people like "Trance" music. With the rhythmic noises and occasional vibration you can go to a completely different place; who needs drugs after that?

Back into the little cupboard and emerge like Superman from a telephone box. Cheery receptionist asks how it was and is amused when I say it was an amazing fun experience  that took me back 30 years without the mind expanding drugs. Did not notice full waiting room until they all burst out laughing.

Escape! Day off tomorrow before being turned radioactive for a bone scan on thursday.............