So I had an MRI today. Yes, one of those long skinny tubes they slide you into in order to see your insides a little more clearly. See, the neurologist came to visit me yesterday as my fever edged closer and closer to 105 and I was literally packed on ice; bags of ice on my head and under each arm, the high-tech method of fever reduction. My headache, a localized piercing pain on the left side of my head that I really thought was eating me alive prompted me to ask him through sobs (yes, internet--I was damn near delerious and I was crying to this man), if I was going to die. It did not seem like a ridiculous question at the time. I asked if I was having a stroke, an aneurism, a blood clot, and on and on and on. I almost asked about little brain gremlins that feast on the grey matter but I didn't want him to think I was crazy...okay, crazier than I was.
Fast forward to this morning when my fever is gone and it seems though magically, my headache is, too. Mind you, its still there, but it's so faint and mild it is almost a joy by comparison. I try to order breakfast and the nurse informs me that they'll "be coming for you soon." This sounds like "dead man walking" to me, as I have slept so soundly and fever-free that I've almost blocked the embarrassing girly cry I had in front of the neurologist about how I didn't want to die. I may have even said at one point, "I have a 3 month old at home. He needs me!" I also recall informing my husband that I hadn't changed my benefits at work to make him my beneficiary. Yeah, I felt that bad. And I was that delerious. OH, and I might be a bit of a drama queen, but this time, that was truly, truly the least of the three ingredients playing into my hysteria. Even the doctors looked at each other with concern each time my fever shot back up. That is not reassuring.
Anyway, "they" were the transports to the MRI. I told the nurse that maybe I didn't need it since I was feeling so much better and that sort of got a chuckle, like I was a little kid trying to get out of taking a bath or something. She may have thought that next I was going to start bargaining with her--"I'll share my french toast with you if you make that MRI disappear"...but I did not.I do have some dignity. And I don't share my french toast, people. Have you learned nothing?
So, the MRI, that little tiny tube that they slide you into that everyone says is a total claustrophobic nightmare? Loved it. Seriously. They secured my head nice and comfy, put a cool cloth over my eyes, gave me a button to press if I started to freak out, and then sliiiiiiiiiid me into the tube. The noises were weird and loud--almost like what I imagine the noises in a bad acid trip would be like or a truly awful techno dance club. They key, though, is that they were consistent and repetitive. So I fell asleep. Yup, I had a nice little nap in the MRI tube and before I knew it, the whole thing was over.
It was back upstairs to my french toast.
Oh, and by the time the frenchtoast was gone, I knew that my brain is time-bomb free and not at all threatening my life in anyway. Phewwwwww. I have been almost completely feverless for the past 24 hours and my pain is more under control. My blood work isn't the mess it was a couple days ago, so mayyyyyyybe they'll be letting me go home tomorrow. Think good thoughts. Think good thoughts. Think good thoughts....