MRI - Hatless, of Course

We left the office around 4 p.m. to get from downtown to Eastgate for my MRI, figuring that the traffic would be heavy. It was not only a Friday but Labor Day Weekend Friday. Surprisingly we headed east along with flowing traffic and made it to Eastgate by 4:30. ProScan was just behind Applebee's and we decided to pop in there to spend the extra half hour. It was happy hour so potato skins and a cold beer seemed like a good idea.

I got into the office, filled out a few more papers and then headed back to the MRI machine. Thankfully it was an open sided MRI so there was no anxiety. The tech asked what kind of music I would like - country or gospel. I asked for rock, classic preferably and off she went to put in the CD. The other tech got me set on the table and asked me not to move. The beer was the perfect relaxer and I found a comfortable position and waited. I had been told by everyone one that there was going to be very loud noises similar to a construction site.

Strangely as I waited for the machine to start I began drifting into memories of my early childhood. Trying to lie there, not moving, I recalled many nights in bed waiting for the "bad guys" to come in through the window to steal me. Why, I don't know, probably just too many TV programs. I would practice breathing so shallow that the sheets wouldn't move. As a child it didn't dawn on me that deep breathes were more beneficial than shallow but I couldn't risk being spotted by thugs. Lying there trying to keep my breather to a minimum I felt like I had run a marathon as my chest seemed to rise about a foot above me with each breathe. It was normal breathing but I felt like I was not longer able to practice my lost art of invisibility.

As the machine started the noise began creating a relaxing white noise which brought back even more memories. Growing up on boats, the sound of a diesel engine hummed me to sleep many nights. When our family would take rides on the water I would sit by myself, off somewhere with the noise loud in my ears and sing at the top of my lungs. Only my imaginary fans could hear me and my family didn't have to suffer through my off key concert. My favorite song back then would have been "Blue Velvet" by Bobby Vinton.

Isn't it amazing how not only smells conjure up there old, buried memories but the most unexpected and unusual events can do the same?

Well, the MRI was easy and I had to do my best not to fall asleep to the white noise with backgrounds by the Doobie Brothers and Yes. I left the office with a large envelope full of knee shots looking forward to Tuesday when I will find out why I hobble. I'm pretty sure of the prognosis, PRUDENCE, YOU ARE GETTING OLD.