In my post Tactical Diversions and Spontaneous Entertainment, I promised to share more about what my “Magical Magnetic” experiences are like and give you a sneak peek. I hate to disappoint, but I have no superpowers yet. I still get smoked in Mario Karts by Tucker and to Paul’s disappointment, magnets when tossed at me, don’t stick. 

I’ve concluded that feeling like the whole MRI experience is like playing Russian Roulette with a loaded gun will never change. After sleeping off that IV cocktail of nerve numbing sedation for claustrophobia, regardless of the results, that pile of laundry will still be smiling at me and those boys of mine will still be coming up with new tactics to challenge my sanity. Bottom line, these MRI’s have become a thread woven into the fabric of our lives. While the scans have been squeaky clean and my prognosis is good, it’s all become a part of our new normal. 

As such, I’ve tried along the way to find something about each experience that’s just simply entertaining and makes us laugh. Laugh at ourselves and what this piece of shit in my head has created for us in our life. It’s my eternal optimistic, unapologetic “Wise Ass” shining through. What can I say.  

Here’s a snapshot from my last “Magical Magnetic” MRI.  On a side note, I know my husband in Connecticut will read this and laugh out loud. So this is as much for your entertainment as it is to brighten his day too.

Fast forward through registration, paperwork, lengthy questionnaires, A-Z health questions, wardrobe change into those super hot one size fits all XXXL powder blue paper scrubs, and finally the IV, and we’re just about ready to get the show on the road.  My nurse stops, looks down at my chart and papers and asks “Oh… what previous surgeries have you had?”

I look to Paul, giggle, roll my eyes and I get started with my narrative in the most accurate chronological order I can remember.

“Aside from the craniotomy, I’ve had two C-sections, two surgeries on my right ovary, tonsils out in high school, knee surgery in middle school and Pyloric Stenosis at 6 weeks old. Um, I think that covers it. I’m perfectly fixed and healthy!”

Then Paul jumps in with “You forgot the two heart catheterizations.”

The look on her face was priceless. As if to silently say, “Are you kidding? Really? Perfectly healthy my ass… what is wrong with you! How can you forget that?”

While Paul sits there all silent, I stammer on that really I am fine. Really! “I’m all fixed, no big deal. I had SVT (Supraventricular Tachycardia) and had the electrical pathway ablated. I had to have the circuitry re-checked about 10 months later, but I’m all fixed and totally healthy. I promise. Can we get this over with now?”

In the MRI room being prepped for the sedation, being hooked up to blood pressure and heart monitors, a nurse busts out with a laugh and calls out,

Oh, Lord. She’s standing at the door… Step away from the light! Are you still with us? 

“WHAT!!!” I say as I raise my head up looking around panicked. “What’s wrong?!”

Shaking her head she goes on…”Your heart rate, it’s just so low! I mean your anxious and it’s 54. Do you exercise?” She asks.

“Yeah, almost everyday, I kickbox and I run. 54? It’s usually closer to 50 according to the heart rate monitor watch I wear when I exercise.”

She laughs and shakes her head. 

“See… I told you I was perfectly healthy! Except of course for this brain thing I’ve got to follow, I’m healthy. Can we please get this over with?”

In a brief moment before I closed my eyes preparing to play a mental game of Russian Roulette, I looked over at Paul who was sitting on a stool next to me smiling and trying not to laugh. It’s was all just priceless.

8 thoughts on “54

  1. As I read your blogs I just think WOW- if you ever want to write a book, I would DEF buy it!!! REALLY- you have such a way with words, its a gift!! Good luck to you and yours!!!

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