Snapshots of the Brain

This morning, I went in for an MRI to make sure the recent onslaught of headaches I've been getting aren't symptoms of something more serious, possibly related to my previous head trauma. Although I've seen MRIs on TV and did my share of online research, a part of me was about to run and bolt when the technician told me to lie on the table. When they tell you that you can't move for the next 30-40 minutes, what they should also explicitly say before pushing you in is that you should be in a comfortable position. Because once you're in, you're not allowed to move at all. Perhaps it was because I was a bit nervous, but about a minute after the technician pushed me into the chamber, I realized that my neck and shoulders were completely tensed up, and would be so for the next 40 minutes. It's a lot harder than you think to stay absolutely still for that period of time. No twitching, no shifting, no adjusting, nothing.

While I'm not claustrophobic, I can certainly understand how some people can flip out during an MRI (when scheduling my appointment, the nurse asked if I wanted a tranquilizer during the procedure). When laying on the sliding flatbed, there is a cage-like apparatus that is placed around your head, about an inch from your nose. The cage itself is about half an inch thick, which is then about 1.5 inches from the MRI wall. Everything is sterile white, so there's not much to look at. You're there, and you're enclosed in a machine making obnoxiously loud noises. The one break from the monotony is a tiny tilted mirror placed about eye level which provides a small glimpse outside the tunnel. From there, I could see my mom sitting in a chair, squirming through the loud noises from the MRI. The technician gave me headphones and cranked up the music, but even that wasn't enough to drown out the loud noises. I can't imagine how loud it must have been for my mom, even with the earplugs.

About halfway through the procedure, the technician came back to slide me out, told me to remain still, then injected me with dye so that they could better see my brain. Back in the tube for another round of pictures. To keep myself entertained, I tried to access an array of memories and emotions, alternately thought about literature and science, just in case it'd make different parts of my brain light up. I guess I'll never know if that did anything, but the exercise at least distracted me for 5 minutes. Ultimately, the MRI is a pretty painless procedure, but I'd still prefer never to do one, given how difficult it can be to remain perfectly still for 40 minutes. Now I await the results.