How’d it go?

It was a messy, chilly, rainy day yesterday as Jen and I headed over to Chelsea for the first of my three MRIs. Anticipating the usual shitty Monday morning commute, we left two hours early. Shockingly, we made it in less than an hour so it was off to a Dunkin’ for doughnuts and watching the rain pour down.

I DID make it through this shorter (one hour) of the two MRI sessions reasonably well. (tomorrow’s scan is the back to back, two hour spine marathon)

This was accomplished, by the by, no thanks to the clinic’s staff. I believe the F Team was on board. The nurse who was charged with putting in my IV looked to be 85 years old, had on more bronzer than Cheeto (who knew that was even possible) and was dressed in snappy tropical ware appropriate for a day of pickle ball at The Villages. (Was she flying out after her lunch break?) More importantly, after two different slow, fumbling, painful and failed attempts to get the IV needle in and hooked up, she fetched her boss (a young-ish dude) to take over. He got it in and done in just a minute. I’m guessing Mildred was more focused on her Florida game time than my veins.

The MRI techs were also less than A Team quality. How so? Despite telling them that I’m deaf and, to communicate with me, they could either write down what they’re saying OR show me, mime it for me, they did neither. Did they think that if they kept repeating themselves I’d magically regain my audio input capacity? Between the IV nurse and these instruction resistant techs the lovely, soothing effects of my calm-me-down medswere definitely burning off.

My Xmas cactus is blooming early.
No doubt inspired by all the retailers down the mall.

Ultimately, the actual event went fine (on my end anyway). I’m a wee bit concerned about tomorrow though. Jen suggested that I bring a pad and pen and just hand it to them when they talk AT me.

Keeping me calm is the only way my claustrophobic ass is getting through this. Ya know what’d be ideal? If the staff had even a smidgen of an idea as to how to effectively communicate. I mean, this is a medical care facility. I imagine they have all kinds of folks coming in who can’t hear and/or don’t necessarily speak English. 47.2% of the folks who live in Chelsea are foreign born. How would the staff handle someone who’s only language is Bosnian?

To be ultra clear, the MRI staff at this particular outpost were great during all my previous visits. Maybe yesterday was a fluke.This is the only Imaging Center (for MGH) that has a so-called open MRI so I don’t exactly have a choice as to where I can get my scans done.

Tonight I’ll pop another calm-me-down-pill. Maybe I’ll drop a gummy now before I get even more tense.