MRI Mind Games

It's been a long time since I had a new experience. Been there, done that describes most of what I find myself engaged in. So it was somewhat interesting, despite being hellish and dreadful, to undergo a cardiac MRI, which I did recently. 

I won't bother with the details -- just ask Grok or Gemini or ChatGPT. Suffice it to say that at the start of the 45-minute procedure, it sucked. Stuck in a tight tube, unable to move or, God forbid, scratch an itch, my mind turned into a sewer of fear, panic, distress and loathing. I immediately wanted out, but I knew that would be self-defeating, especially since my husband and I had just driven more than two hours, some of it through agonizing rush-hour Boston traffic, to get myself in. 

Sleep would have been a welcome escape, but with a cardiac MRI that's impossible since you've got a job to do. Every few minutes a distant voice intoned: "Please breathe in. Breathe out, and hold your breath."  Then after a period ranging from four to perhaps 19 seconds, the voice said, "Please breathe normally." Far too soon, it came again.

After about 20 minutes of thinking surely this is Hell, how did I get here, when will this end, I can't stand it another second, I hit upon a great idea that turned the whole thing into a lark. What if I thought of myself as an astronaut instead of a patient with a potentially devastating heart problem? Yeah, that's it -- I'm training for my next mission to Pluto or whatever, somewhere the air is thin. And not only that, but I'm getting paid a lot of money to do it! Suddenly the whole thing wasn't so bad. In fact, it was sort of fun.

When it did end, part of me was a tad disappointed. Just when I was getting into it! Turns out I don't have the terrible disease after all. And although I'm not an astronaut, I came away knowing that instead of my mind playing tricks on me, I can play tricks on it, whenever I need to. 

Good to know.