An MRI, meanwhile, is a sophisticated test that uses enormous magnets to see how claustrophobic you are. Even if you’re not technically claustrophobic per say, an MRI makes you claustrophobic. But first they ask if there’s any metal in your body, so they’re not in for any surprises when you suddenly stick to the ceiling of the machine.
With most X-rays, you generally get some kind of protection, because X-rays are dangerous. I’d never really gotten an X-ray before this, except at the dentist, and the dentist always gives me a bib. But they didn’t give me a bib this time. I was like, “Hey, where’s my bib?” And they were like, “We have to image that part.” So I said, “Oh. How about one for my head?”
What they did do was have me get into weird positions. It was like those wedding photos that they make the chosson and kallah take while the guests eat soup and wonder if they didn’t just go home.
“Okay, now face each other but face me in a dress that you barely fit into.”
Apparently, when they’re taking X-rays of your back, they don’t like your arms in the way. So I had to take a lot of X-rays with my arms up, like I was on a really scary roller coaster. Then they tried to sell me pictures when I got off the ride.
In a MRI machine, you only get into one position, but you have to stay still for like 20 minutes. But don’t worry – there are lots of things to do in a MRI machine, such as lie there and think about how much your nose itches. I think the best way to get through it without thinking, “I’m in a tiny space. I’m in a tiny space,” is to take a nap. But it’s noisy. I refuse to believe they can’t make it quieter. It’s magnets. Since when do magnets make noise? The ear plugs barely help. Maybe I didn’t stick them in far enough. Are they supposed to touch?
Basically, it feels like you’re lying in a huge copy machine, and it’s slowly scanning you and making a copy. It’s like… imagine you’re going through a tunnel water slide at an amusement park on your bad back, wearing a napkin that doesn’t close behind you, and you get stuck in middle. For a half hour. Right at that part where they take pictures of you. With an extremely noisy antique camera. And you’re trying to yell, “Don’t send anyone else down!” but no one can hear you.
The acronyms are also different, obviously. MRI stands for… I don’t know. My Robe Itches? While no one knows what the X in X-ray stands for. It’s a variable, and you’re always going to get different answers. Xylophone? That’s the only other x-word I know. Xerox?
The results are vastly different too. According to my X-ray, it turns out I have a skeleton in me.
“There’s the problem. How did that get in there?”
Okay, so the X-ray showed that I had something called disc degeneration. I panicked, but then I read that it’s aging-related. Sure, that means it won’t go away, but it’s some relief, because I already knew I was aging. But that causes herniated discs, which is what the MRI found. Whatever that means. So now I feel better. I really do, knowing what it is. The worst is when you don’t know what it is, and they have to name it after you. I’m sure Bob Herniated freaked out the first time it happened to him. At least this is something I can Google here, lying on my stomach. If I can type while the kids play King of the Mountain on my back.
