Today Mom and I went to Gainesville for a CAT scan on her head/mouth and an MRI for me on my knee. I was proud of Mom. She actually used her walker at the Orthopedic Center in Gainesville instead of me having to push her in a wheelchair. I think Mom, knowing that I had an upcoming MRI on my knee, was the catalyst for her realizing she could use her walker. Maybe just a little bit of guilt was there as well.
Now, an MRI was a new thing for me. I'd never had one before; but I knew I'd have to lie still for minutes on end while my knee was being MRI'd. No problem. So as the procedure began for me, the first thing I was asked was to answer a few questions. As the assistant asked whether or not I had scrapnel in my body or microchips or whatever else he asked, I finally said, "Hey. I answered all these questions before on paper." But it didn't matter. He had to ask me again in lightning speed with me answering in lightning speed. "Nope. Nope. No. No. Nope. No. . ."
My next little hurtle was removing all my jewelry, which I thought I had done. But the assistant told me I had to remove my necklace. "But I haven't taken this off since 1980," I answered, "and I'm superstitious." However, it didn't matter one iota to him. So off it came. Now the wedding ring was a different story. The assistant refused to fetch warm water and soap to get my 40 year old wedding band off my finger, but instead casually said, "Aw, wedding rings are okay." So now I ask any of you doctors out there, "Are wedding rings okay to wear when getting MRI'd? This assistant went on to say the ring may get real hot and start melting. Is this true???
We're still nowhere near the MRI part, but you wouldn't believe that me disrobing and putting on the 3X gown I casually picked up would cause such a hassle. I literally walked out into the waiting area and said to a woman and man, "I don't know how to tie this thing." Somehow the African American man had had many MRI's because he told me so; therefore, he negotiated the process to the African American woman who eventually figured it out. In the meantime the man kept repeating, "No look-ie." Finally, I said, "Look. I'm beyond 'No look-ie", just tie the darn thing!" Which they did.
(Ahem. Back to picture number one).
Finally, after waiting all by myself for forty minutes in a tiny little waiting room, another assistant said he was ready for me. I asked how long the MRI would take and he said, "Thirty minutes." Oh, my gosh. I thought about Mom, who had been sitting in the waiting room for over an hour and told him, "My mother will have a fit. You have to go tell her."
(Ahem. Back to picture number two)
Now to the MRI, which will be quick and succinct. In a few words, as I posted of Facebook:
"Whompwhompwhompwhompwhompzitzitzitzitwhompwhompwhompwhompzitzitzitzitwhompwhomp!"
Thirty whole minutes of this on my knee, with me wondering when my wedding band would get hot and possibly melt on my finger. Near the last ten minutes, I could feel a cough coming on, but I didn't dare. I lay there and breathed lightly. Then I felt a quiver in my left knee. "Oh, crap!" I thought. "Did I mess it up?" In the past, I have had "restless leg syndrome", and thought maybe I was about to experience it in full blow proportion. I watched the red glowing timer at the top of the machine. I think I fell asleep when there were a few moments of silence; but eventually, my time was up and my knee had been MRI'd!
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Now, I suppose you are wondering why the farm pictures. Well, I knew Truett had been home all alone, so I promised him we would go to The Gathering Restaurant in Branford for supper so he could get out of the house. He suggested we take a scenic route home. So I drove sandy, meandering, washboard farm roads for one hour on the way home and eventually turned on the GPS to navigate us back to a paved road. And these are the best photographic material I saw.