Held Prisoner in Hampton Roads

Getting Stuffed . . .

. . . into an MRI tube, that is.

The following is a reprint of an After Action Report (AAR) I wrote a few months ago.

I recently had a recurrence of headaches that plagued me when I was a teenager. Since it has been several weeks since I was in my teens (somewhat over 2230, to be exact,) I decided to have an MRI and MRA an my skull to see if, in fact, it was as empty as some of my friends and co-workers have claimed.

The tidewater area (that's Virginia Beach/Norfolk, VA to the geography impaired) is apparently stuck in the 1980's and does not have any open-sided MRI machines, so I was looking at being stuffed head-first into a high tech sewer pipe. Claustrophobe that I am, my M.D. wrote an Rx for three 10 mg diazepam tablets. With a 1645 appointment, I took one at 1415, one at 1515 and one at 1615.

At that point, they could have stood me naked in the parking lot and taken photos with a Polaroid. I could have given a sh** less. However, they dropped me on the sliding table and pushed me inside like some meat-filled cannister into the Yamato's front turret, center tube.

Operator: "You have two tests. The MRI will take about 30 minutes. The MRA will take about 35 minutes." At least, that's what I think he said. I didn't hear too well over the little voice in my head that said: "Are you crazy? Get your *$! the *$@% out of this sewer pipe!

Operator: "How're you doing?"
Me: "I don't like this much!"
Operator: "You want out?"
Me: "No. Get on with it."

Next thing I hear, which seems like five minutes later, but was actually more than an hour: "You're done." I opine that Valium apparently creates a temporal anomaly, and conclude that Einstein's time/space theory is essentially bullbleep. They unload me, send me out the front door, and I find that 30 mg of Valium also affects the way I walk. The shortest distance between two points is generally impossible. This was confirmed by a brief shopping trip on the way home through the local Farm Fresh. My path through the store could have been drawn by Jeffy (of Family Circus fame.)

For those concerned about the possibility of me operating a vehicle in that state, please be assured that my fair wife was behind the wheel of our vehicle, ostensibly (and actually) to keep me from being convicted of driving while terminally loopy. Good thing, that, and excellent planning, I might add.

No results as yet. Chapter two to follow in a week or so.

Upon reading my AAR, my son the ER doc commented: "30mg of PO Valium and you were still breathing, huh? I thought Dr. Kevorkian practiced in Michigan or something."

Fast forward two weeks . . .

The MRI shows that I have nothing either growing or crawling around in my skull. The doctor said it was "normal" which, I assume, will be a great surprise to many of my family, friends and co-workers.