I Made It

Honestly, does that tube RILLY look big enough for a 155 pound babe to fit inside? NO, But I did – calmly too, Of course it helped that, on waking up yesterday morn, I popped half a calm-me-down pill and another one right before they slid me into the goddamn skinny-ass cylinder.

I KNOW I already mentioned how much I HATE taking these pills. They wear me WAY the fuck out – makes it so I can’t get anything done AND I’m hung over for another day afterward. I’ve tried some herb calm me down (no, NOT weed) in the past (St. Jon’s Wort maybe?) and that was worse – took every ounce of energy outta me. Getting high would be good BUT smoking ain’t allowed in MGH and I live too far away to toke up before I leave the house.

WHAT’S a claustrophobe to do?!

One nice/interesting thing. While I was sitting in the chair where they stick in the IV needles, I asked the nurse “Waddya think of Joe Biden entering the race?” Yes, politics as distration. She  made a meh face and a waffling motion with her hand, going on to say that Bernie’s close to 80. I chimed in “yeah and Joe’s just one year younger.” I also mentioned that I LOVE Elizabeth Warren BUT on Inauguartion Day, January 20th, 2020 she would be 71 to Bernie’s 78 and Joe’s 77.

I sputtered, “I’m 60 fer fuck’s sake. I’d like to see someone younger than me nominated.” She agreed and then it was tube time.

Wasn’t that nice?

 I didn’t know the nurse but figured the odds of a female nurse in Massachusetts being a Trump-Sucker were slim to nil. Seemed like a safe query. Any answer from her would have been interesting and diverting but, that she agreed regarding age, was cool.

Maybe Ten and I aren’t alone in our desire for a prez with fewer miles and years on the clock than us?

Meanwhile, in the pipette masqueraing as a full size MRI, I began plotting out my Guernica-esque painting of the horror at the southern border. It’ll comprise three 36”x36” panels – a triptych. I won’t give away the rest now. if it works out/if I like it, I’ll post it.

I'm thinking re: my muscular claustrophobia, two solutions may appear outta the mists.

1. Tech will have advanced enough so that I can FINALLY use one of them groovy Open MRIs (at last check, they're not clear and specific enough for my Doc's needs.)
2. I'll FINALLY be SO pissed about all the damn time I lose to these groggy-making pills, I'll not take them. I'll get in the tube and deep breath myself into oblivion.

Either could happen!

MGH's new and very civilized looking MRI machine that I can't use :(