|8/2/2014 7:33:43 PM -
MRI and panic attacks
Competition training is pretty much on hold indefinitely. I'm having some serious back issues. Right now I am controlling what I can, my weight. Regardless of whether I can train hard or not, at least I can still shed some fat.
Alright ladies and gents, your fearless leader is not always so fearless. I had to have an MRI the other day. This story would be incomplete without a little backstory.
Last time I had an MRI, it was on my knee, and it was an open MRI. That thing was rad. My prior MRI was in a standard MRI when I tore my biceps tendon. That was a nightmare. It was scheduled and then had to be rescheduled once they had my shoulder measurements, to one of the biggest ones in the state.
When I arrived the receptionist said your pretty big. We had a guy get stuck in there last week. Are you f*cking kidding me, did she really just say that? Well, I got stuffed in the tube and felt like a bullet in a chamber. Just about every part of my body was touching some part of the tube. I was freaking the f*ck out. The tech just kept saying "just one more." They were playing the Eagles and to this day I can't listen to a single song of theirs. I had finally had enough and told them to get me out immediately.
The tech told me he was really surprised I made it as long as I did. I feel like a wimp saying it, but I was distraught. I had it done early in the morning and was actually going to go to work afterwards. No way! I actually had to sit in the waiting room for about a half an hour to pull myself together.
Fast forward to present time. I made sure my doc's office scheduled me in an open MRI. When the imaging office called to confirm something, I basically got the jist that I was still going to be in a tube. However, because it's a bigger tube, it's considered open. I started to panic.
I just recently read a fiction novel where the main character was crawling through some tight spaces. He was totally freaked out. He got through it, but had to do it again. He reveled in the fact that it would be irrational to freak out over something he had already done. So, I wanted to beat my fear. But, I called the doc's office for a some anti anxiety medication just to make it a little easier on myself.
When it came time for the MRI I asked Jess to come with me. She's my rock. I walked into the room and saw that damn tube. Panic was setting in. I should have gotten a higher mg anxiety pill. Anyway, the tech told me he hates powerlifters. Funny, I didn't even tell him I was a powerlifter. Wonder how he guessed it? He was kidding of course, especially considering how lifters help keep those places open.
Once they got me all setup, they started guiding me into the tube. The second my head got close, I told them I couldn't do it. I immediately felt like a wimp. I hate giving into fear. The tech said "ok." He didn't even fight it. Before I could get up from the table I found my nuts and I told him to start me in a little "just the tip, just for a second, just to see how it feels." As I inched into the machine I focused on my breathing and counting in my head. It was tighter than I would have liked and sucked, but I got through it. Jess reached into the tube and stroked my temples the entire time. That certainly helped. Moral of the story, get higher mg anxiety meds.
They really need to start making things like MRI's and airline seats for we normal sized people.
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The tip and then the whole thing,