MRI preparation
Someday I’ll create an essay detailing the reasons I dislike having to find babysitting. The reasons range from fear of babysittorial incompetance to fear of being-a-bother. The annoyance factor increases dramatically if I don’t want to go to the event that requires my kids to be elsewhere. There is just no happy in making 6 phone calls to try to round up babysitting for 4 children so that I can be drugged and stuck into a claustrophobic MRI machine. Particularly when with every phone call I have to explain where I’m going, that it’s nothing serious just a routine check up, yes I have one every year, no I don’t think the tumor is back, no it wasn’t cancerous, yes that’s right two surgeries and radiation therapy, Oh, you’d love to help but Friday is busy, well thanks anyway. Repeat. Only I don’t want to. I want to spend the next 4 days in denial about that MRI and in NOT thinking about a very dark period in my life which seems to be over now except for the yearly MRI test which requires me to lie still, not swallow, and contemplate how I really, really, really never want to do any of that again.
I normally don’t mind talking about my medical experiences. They’re part of my life. I learned from them I wouldn’t wish to have not gone through them because I came out stronger. It’s the MRI I fear. The MRI with it’s ephemeral possibility that they’ll find a reoccurance of the tumor. I wouldn’t wish the experience UNdone, but I really really want it to be DONE.
Enough angsty rambling. Back to the phone with me.