So the instructions were don’t wear anything metallic. Even a grommet on your workout pants is forbidden. Arriving at the imaging center, a euphemism for you are here there is no return. Not sure yet just where they are going to stick the “contrast” another euphemism for opaque substance that will flow through your veins, hit your heart and light up your organs like a candle, when you get there. I had eaten something beforehand, to make sure my stomach didn’t sound louder than that machine in there.
The MRI is a highly technical, amazing machine. But, it is based on some sort of echoing, and the computer works with the pulses to put together a detailed explanation of foreign growths, and invaders to the system, in my case, my thyroid. Both lobes have hosted a number of invaders, and it is time to identify, quantify and remove their asses from the field. They are not playing nice, and we have to call in the team to battle.
My tech was a nice enough fellow, who was all business. I find it funny that I, an older woman, suddenly is the center of a young man’s world. All his professionalism fell away when I would feel that reassuring hand on my arm as I slide into the tube for my MRI. They know, they know, I’m nervous as a cat. No, a squirrel. This is my magnetic personality.
This is the next step in my process of removing a small cancer from my body. It will be the next part I’m leaving in some incinerator. May it have a good journey to wherever parts go. Perhaps in a celestial warehouse to be reunited once again. Who knows?