Monday's MRI was one of the hardest that I have had so far. Okay, there was the one where my head was tilted back and I had a neck ache for a week, but this one was a bit more difficult. Before I even got to the room for the MRI, I had to get the port set up so that they could inject the contrast towards the end of the MRI. As soon as the nurse swabbed me with alcohol, I felt the nausea coming. Then, they usually flush the tube with saline to get the blood out of the tube. As soon as they flush it, you get this metallic taste in your mouth. More nausea.
When I was taken to the room for the MRI, the tech told me that I had to stick my right shoulder into this plastic, shoulder thing. She kept asking me to move my right shoulder closer to that plastic thingy. Then I had to hold still. Perfectly still. The side that aches if I stay in one position too long. The side that feels like blood isn't flowing into it. The side that feels like I imagine "restless leg syndrome" to feel like, only on your arm. Oh yeah, and I had to do this for one hour. With nausea. And maybe feeling like I wanted to throw up.
I was placed in this long tube and the MRI began. Thankfully, I am not claustrophobic. After five minutes of the loud, banging sounds of the MRI, the tech stopped it and told me that she was seeing slight movement. She told me not to breathe so heavily. Of course, this made me take deeper breathes and made me feel like I was going to suffocate.
After a minute or so, I went to that happy place of talking it out with God. I talked to Him about the results of the MRI. I talked to Him about what He wanted me to do. I talked to Him about healing other people who were a lot sicker than I. I asked Him to guide the person who was going to give me a haircut later on that day. I know, I know. I've just been having issues with my receding, thinning hair. Maybe a bit of hormones also. Anyways, it is always helpful to talk it out with God.