Magnetic Resonance
A few days ago, a close friend was telling me about her experience of an MRI scan. I thought to let her share her story with us all. Be my guest please.
August the 11th 2021, the date for my annual mammogram. As usual, I got ready and went to the hospital where I was prepped and invited to the large Xray room. Everything was routine and predictable. A week later, I got the results and it didn’t look good. The doctor called me in and said she wanted a second opinion. This led to my being referred for an MRI scan. MRI? What did that mean? I needed to google it for a better understanding. Magnetic Resonance Imaging, it didn’t sound too bad. I was told the procedure would take about one hour and I could bring my music along to help pass time. There would be a facility to help me project it to my headphones. In my letter, I was advised not to eat for four hours before the appointment and to complete an attached questionnaire.
On d-day, I got ready and went to the Hospital bright and early. I completed the additional paperwork and was led to the dressing room. After being properly kitted, I was led to THE ROOM. By this time I was quite nervous because I had seen the MRI machine a few times on television with helpless humans cocooned like a coffin. It wasn’t anything I was looking forward to. I couldn’t imagine being enclosed so tightly in a glass tube for one hour. I needed God to help me get through it.
The first thing that was done was to inject me with a dye. Finding my vein was a challenge - the nurse had to puncture my arm several times in her quest. I shamefully asked if she could use a smaller needle to reduce the pain. Ofcourse she couldn’t! They needed a large needle to aid the dye pass through my veins. I was asked if I had any metals in my body, any pacemaker, dentures, hearing aids, piercings, anything. I said I only had a metal plate on my femur.
The machine didn’t look as frightening as I had anticipated. This particular one was open with a hood only over the chest and head area; my waist and legs would be exposed. There was also a huge comfortable space between the top and bottom. I was delighted and relieved to see it wasn’t the glass coffin I had been dreading. I was asked to lie face down with arms open beside my head. My face was cupped in a small opening where I could look down straight to the floor. I was given large ear plugs that doubled as head phones and a horn to hold. During the procedure, there would be a lot of noise and if I needed a break, I could press the horn. I also discovered that they couldn’t play my music but offered an alternative. The MRI would take about half an hour I was told. (It turned out they weren’t being truthful.)
Soon, both nurses left and I was all by myself in the room. Suddenly, I heard a low humming sound and some music playing. It sounded very distant and I had to strain my ears to hear it. It seemed I was soon “transported” to an airport with a few jumbo jets taking off. The noise was so horrific and my bed seemed to shake with it, boogoo boogoo boogoo boogoo boogoo boogoo boogoo! It went on and on and on. Fear gripped me and I had to start praying with Bible scriptures, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me,” “my life is hidden in Christ and in God.” I also had to pep talk myself; “I can do this, I am not afraid. Many have done this and survived. Mine won’t be any different.” Fear is a terrible tyrant! It kept coming up but I had to soothe myself with the right words. The noise of the jumbo jets drowned out my music. I made a mental note to give them feedback about the music vs the jumbo jet sound.
I laid there for a long time. I was advised to keep still so as not to disrupt the filming. At a point, in my frustration I lifted up legs and suddenly found I could touch the roof. A wave of panic washed over me as I realised I had been cocooned all round. It had happened silently while I was lying peacefully on my face. The side glass had been raised to cover me all round like a coffin. I have heard about panic attacks and always wondered what they felt like. That day, I had my own panic attack. Once again, I switched to prayer, I confessed the word of God which actually gave me some comfort. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”, I had to tell myself over and over again that I could do this. “I am a child of God, nothing can harm me. He will never leave me nor forsake me”. After a while, I started praying in tongues (a supernatural prayer language). I was finally able to calm down some. I laid down quietly listening to the jumbo jets revving. Horrible thoughts then started going through my mind. I remembered one video of a young soldier who was being buried alive by his enemies. I remembered the heartache I felt just watching that video on Face Book. All of a sudden, I imagined myself as the young boy being covered in dirt. I twisted my neck and saw all the glass around me, lifted my legs and touched “the coffin”, and that was it! I gave in and pressed the buzzer.
“Helen, you’re doing so well. We are almost done. Just hang in there for one more minute or two.” It was all I needed, to hear a familiar voice with some words of reassurance. True to their words, it came to an end within about two minutes
The whole ordeal had lasted just fifty minutes. It’s not something I’d like to experience again in a hurry. I wonder how others survive without the comfort of prayer and the knowledge of Someone watching over them. I wonder how people survive alot of things in this evil world. There is so much wickedness and unfairness all around, too many battles that need fighting. I couldn’t last a day without the comfort of my faith and knowing I had a Saviour that had my back.