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She was told to be at the lab 30 minutes before her scheduled MRI (magnetic resonance imaging). She managed to be there by 10:20, traffic was really good for a change. Her exam was scheduled for 11:00. After getting the paperwork all signed up, she sat down and waited for her name to be called. She had been at that lab around the same time last year. This was becoming a regular test in her life like a mammogram and blood work. They would take her up to the second floor, ask her to get into some scrubs and then stick her in the machine that reminded her of a pizza oven for 40 minutes or so. No sweat.

She sat down next to an elderly woman and pulled out her book from her bag. She had just started reading “The White Massai” by Corinne Hoffman (The romance of Swiss woman Corinne Hoffman and Kenyan warrior Lketinga.), fascinated by the story she glanced at her watch when she was about to start chapter 6. Shocked it was quarter past 11 and no one had called her name. But since she had been so involved in the novel, she might not have heard her name being called so she decided to go and ask one of the attendants. The same attendant who had filled out her paperwork was also shocked that she hadn’t been called yet. Therefore, she called up the lab to find out what was going on. She apologized and said that the patient before her had panicked in the machine and there would be a 20 minute delay.

She went back to her book and soon enough a man who did not smile dressed in white called her name. He took her to the second floor and as he pointed to a dressing room she handed her a hospital gown to get into. She was confused and wondered why they had gotten rid of the scrubs. Perhaps they were trying to reduce the laundry bill. Maybe the gown was better because one size fits all and the scrubs they had to guess if you were small, medium, large or extra large (What about the people who were bigger? That had come to mind the last time she had undergone the exam.)

She closed the door, put on the lilac gown that smelled like fabric softener; it was nice. Locked all her belongings in a closet and removed the key. She opened the door and the man who did not smile called her into his office and asked her a bunch of questions. Pain? Where? How long? All the time? She was tired of having to tell her story over and over again after all almost two years had gone by and no one had discovered what the matter was. She was getting tired of being some one’s step to a Nobel Prize or whatever prize you get in medicine for having discovered some kind of new disease.

The man who did not smile asked her to wait outside in the waiting room that soon she would go into the exam room. Soon? More like half an hour went by before she was finally led into the MRI room.

“A blanket? Just a sheet then? Please lay down with your head touching the tip of the tray.” said the man who did not smile. Yes it looked like a try that was going to slide the body into the pizza oven. He placed the bell in her hand just in case she needed anything while she was in the machine. She knew that she had to stay put and not move an inch otherwise they would have to redo it.

In the pizza oven she focused on not moving, not falling asleep and hoping the 30 minutes that she would be in there would fly by. An MRI machine produces many loud and different sounds. Ever since she started do this exam she had always heard words instead of just sounds.

Run. Run. Run. Run. Death. Death. Death. Death. “No that won’t do," she thought. Another sound. Corpse rot. Corpse rot. Corpse rot.” Why is my mind producing these words? “ Then all of a sudden she started to hear the names of her ex- boyfriends. Her heart started to beat a bit faster. “Oh no not a panic attack.” She was starting to sweat and realized that she had to do something for this time it was not a smooth ride. She decided to pray.

The tray was yanked out and the man who did not smile said he’d have to give her a contrast agent injection. She had been expecting this because it had happened in the previous exams. But what she wasn’t expecting was that he missed the vain in her left arm and tried again on her hand. With the sting running in the veins she knew that this time he had done a good job. However, all of these mishaps were making her exhausted. Back in the scanner she went.

After a few minutes, she was yanked out again and was told that the lab doctor wanted to scan her skull. She questioned the man who did not smile because her neurologist had only asked for her spine to be examined. Did she have a choice? No she did not. So back in the machine she went. This time she had to control her tears. Emotions were bursting out of her pours. She felt like a bag of potatoes, a guinea pig, being poked at thrown here and there. As these feelings started filling her mind and heart, she was yanked out of the machine.

After two hours she could change into her own clothes and finally go home.

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(Written: April 25, 2013)

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