Heart MRI

This morning started with a small victory: I took a shower and got dressed in less than 20 minutes. I know that is so normal, but it has taken me about 6 months of being an amputee to be able to get ready so quickly. I was mindful of time because my friends Mia and Nicole were picking up to take me to the MRI of my heart at Jefferson Memorial Hospital.

Mia dropped us off at the hospital. Nicole helped me negotiate the hallways and the people with my walker. We got into the radiology department and I started filling out the forms asking the same questions again. Again, I wondered why I can't have my medical information encoded on a bracelet or a flash drive. It would save so much time and reduce so many errors, that it would probably give hospitals extra money, even after the costs of technology. I figure that if financial institutes ethically can use technology in this accessible way, the medical industry can as well.

We waited for about an hour before the radiology technician brought me back. She insisted that I use the wheelchair because I am a "fall risk". Even though I wore clothes with no metal at all, the nurses insisted that I put the hospital gown on top. I laid down on the table while everyone arranged my body. The nurse put some stickers on my abdomen and a framework on my chest. The assistant amazingly caught my vein on the first try to set up an entry for the dye. Then, everyone left the room and I slid into the MRI tube.

It was quiet for a minute and then the crazy, unpredictable banging started. The radiologist repeatedly told me to breathe in, breathe out, and hold my breath as the machine imaged my heart and lungs. The clanging continued loudly punctuated by minutes of silence. I wonder why there isn't noise-canceling technology for MRIs. The radiologist comes to the table and starts dye flowing into the ampule in my arm. I can feel cold flowing through my hand and up to my shoulder. There was more banging and more breathing instructions. Then we finished.

Everyone came back in the room. The nurse took out the needle. I asked to take off the stickers myself, since I get super anxious that they will somehow tear off my skin. I got dressed and found Nicole.

Mia picked us up and I took us all out to lunch. It was pouring out and I felt like I did such a good job of walking steadily.

Now, I get to await the results of the MRI. We'll find out how threatening the tumor nearest my heart is. I christened the tumor Princess Leia because she is a member of the rebellion (cancer) and has witnessed the use of enormous violence to destroy her place of origin (my left leg). Sure, that makes my body the Empire and the Dark Side, but that might just be a matter of perspective.