MRI: Monstrous Reverberating Incubator

MRI: Magnetic Resonance Imaging
MRI: May Render Insane
MRI: Massive Raucous Invasion

I had my protons realigned today.*  Really. Not in a Star Trekish way, but by a torturous device called a MRI.

When I mentioned to people I was going to have a MRI for my lower back (sciatica), every one responded with, “Oh, I couldn’t stand that thing. I had to be pulled out/sedated/use an open MRI.” They were all claustrophobic and just the memory of being in the narrow tube made their eyes wide with fear.

I have absolutely no problem with the enclosed aspect. I close my eyes so I don’t see the top of the tunnel only inches from my nose. I know I can push the panic button if I need it and the technician will talk to me and/or let me out. No problem.

I DO have a problem with the sounds. Strange, obnoxious, make-your-body-vibrate type of sounds. The same people who were terrified of the enclosed space gave me a funny look when I said the sounds frighten me.

Want to have a small sample of a MRI? Click on the link below, turn your speakers up really loud, and put your head right next to the speakers. Imagine this going on for twenty minutes.

Sample MRI Sounds

This is the fourth MRI I have had in my life. The sounds vibrate into my chest and make me feel like my heart arrhythmia is acting up. The only way I get through a MRI is by mentally talking to myself. Ear plugs don’t really help. It’s all a mind game for me.

I use different tactics. Sometimes I try to make sense of the sounds. “I’m parked by a construction site and there’s a jackhammer.” “I’m at home and the neighbor is using power tools. I hope he stops soon.” “Music is starting. Different tones are added.”

Or, I just try to distract myself. I sing songs, pray, count from 100 backward by 3’s, think about the plot of a book I’m reading, and think about the YouTube video, “Charlie bit my finger.”

Charlie bit my finger  (link to a cute video of two young English brothers)

I made it through the test, a bit dizzy and headachy. I’m so glad it’s done and it went better than I imagined. A MRI is not fun, but it beats being cut open to see what’s inside, right?

* “Typically MRI causes the body to emit a signal,” explains Jim Rosato, head interventional MRI technologist at Brigham and Women’s Hospital. “As the protons—the nuclei—of the hydrogen atoms in our body spin, they form north and south poles, but they can be facing in different directions. Once the patient goes into the magnet, it causes all the protons to align in one direction.” With a magnetic field strength 10 thousand times greater than the earth’s, the electromagnet in the Signa SP has plenty of power to perform this feat.

“The banging, jackhammer sound people hear during MRI is actually caused by the electromagnetic gradients, or radio waves, switching on and off extremely fast,” Rosato continues. “This causes the protons, which are now lined up with the main magnetic field, to flip 90 degrees. Each time the radio pulse switches off, the protons go back to their original position. When they do that, they emit an electromagnetic signal—a radio frequency signal, like FM radio—and that’s picked up by the ‘antenna,’ or the coil,” hence magnetic “resonance.”

Mishmash

Can’t Touch This: I wanted to surprise Larry by cleaning the screen of his new Blackberry Storm 2. Whoa, do not try to wipe off a touch screen while the phone is turned on! Things were flashing on the screen and I had no idea how to control them. I felt like Chuck, watching The Intersect.

 Ratings: I wish books came with ratings, like movies. I can read book reviews online, but no one mentions if there’s language, violence or sex issues. In my small town, I can’t find the book on the shelves, but have to request it to be sent from other libraries. It’s disappointing to finally check out the book and find it’s not PG or maybe PG-13.

Punny: After seeing a promo for Dancing With the Stars, Larry said, “Did you know they’re going to do Dancing With the Stars in Russia? It’ll be called Dancing with the Czars.”

Needs an Explanation: After seeing a seagull fly by, Kevin said out of the blue, “In seventh grade, we were finally successful with getting a seagull to eat some pizza with Alka Seltzer in it.” What?

REALLY Needs an Explanation: …”I can stand up to special interests because I refuse contributions from insurance companies. I am a proven fighter, even after my colleague was shot in the head. I led recall of corrupt officials in my Southern California hometown…”   From Hector De La Torre’s statement in the “Democratic Party Candidate Statements.”  He’s running for California Insurance Commissioner. What?!!

Survivor Blackout (spoilers at the end)

I had to show tremendous restraint since 8:00 PM Sunday night. I needed to avoid all news outlets because I didn’t want to hear who won Survivor! We “DVR’d” the whole three hours, to be watched Monday afternoon.

I hate knowing what happens ahead of time. I don’t want to know the endings of movies, TV shows or books. It absolutely spoils the whole thing for me. I don’t like to watch reruns (Megan may be quick to point out, I did have a thing for Gilmore girls a few years ago) or watch movies more than once.

My son, Kevin, doesn’t mind this. He’ll look online to see who gets voted off reality shows, then tell me, “I know who’s going.” He likes to have this knowledge so he can see how it all plays out or leads up to the conclusion. Not me. I’ve convinced him to keep all such knowledge to himself.

Going newsless was harder than I anticipated. I realized how much I am involved with the news throughout my daily routine.  I flip on the radio when I’m getting ready in the morning. I read the newspaper daily. I check out msnbc.com twice a day for news updates. I listen to news radio (KGO) when I working in the kitchen to keep myself from suffering with boredom (I dislike cooking and doing dishes. I’d say hate, but my mother taught me that’s not a nice word). I watch the local evening news.

I was afraid to even talk to anyone on the phone, gauging how cautious I’d need to be by thinking, “Are they a Survivor fan? Will they blurt out, ‘Can you believe So-and-So won?’”

Finally, Kevin and I found time to watch the Survivor finale this afternoon (whittled down from three hours to two. Thank you, magical DVR). I was surprised with the winner.

Last season, I thought Russell should have won. Same this time. I tend to think the most conniving, evil, sneaky, back-stabbing, dishonest and therefore the most entertaining contestant should win. That’s Russell. The jury tends to vote on how much their feelings get hurt. Outwit, outplay, outlast.

Who do you think should have won?

Jack Fruit

I’ve become accustomed to finding strange items in our grocery stores, especially the meat department. Do you realize people will pay for animal parts I would definitely pass by? I’ve seen chicken feet, pork snouts, beef cheeks and beef lips.

 

But yesterday I saw my first “jack fruit.” What in the world is jack fruit? It was at our local Food 4 Less. “Jack Fruit…$1.99 a pound.” The fruit was as big as a watermelon, but had spiky bumps all over it. What is it?!!

“The Princess and the Pea” *

I have a confession to make. The three bed pillows I sleep on are well over ten years old (I’m afraid to say how old they actually are). The pillows are very firm and rather flat. I stack them on top of each other so I have a sort of wedge. I hate to think of the generations of dust mites the pillows have supported, with their irritating allergens. (Too much information?)

These pillows would definitely not pass the Oprah test. During one of her shows about linens and bedding, she demonstrated how to know when your pillow needed replacing. Oprah folded a pillow in half and it stayed folded, meaning it was a goner. My pillows stay folded in half without any chance of a rebound.

Penney’s had a pillow sale last week and I bought three different types, all labeled “Firm Support.” I’ve bought cheap pillows from Kmart and Walmart in the past, hoping to make the switch, but my face sunk so far in I felt like suffocating. I figured the more expensive Penny’s pillows should work.

Last night I resolved to toss aside my three old pillows and use the Sealy Posturepedic Select pillow. The Sealy was comfortable and not too squishy. “Hey, I think this is a keeper!” I thought. But as I lay there, I was aware it was different. I changed positions. Still comfortable, but not familiar. From 11:15 PM to 1:00 AM, I tried to fall asleep, but couldn’t do it. I finally tossed the Sealy pillow across the room, stacked my three worn, but beloved pillows on the bed and fell asleep.

I have a hard time sleeping when anything is different. I am like “The Princess and the Pea.” * I have trouble adjusting when we add our electric blanket to the bed in the winter, or take it off at the end of spring. It’s the difference in weight that bothers me. When we lived in Gilroy, Larry put some bookcases in our bedroom. Somehow, even with my eyes closed, I was aware enough of the change that I had trouble sleeping. I guess I felt like I was in someone else’s house.

Larry saw the title of this blog entry and I told him what I’ve written. When I told him about not being able to sleep with the new pillow, he said, “I knew it!” He had slept wonderfully on his new pillow. When I reminded him of the bookcase incident, he laughed and said, “You’re just plain weird.” But still “princessy”?

* ” …'Well we shall soon see if that is true,' thought the old Queen, but she said nothing. The Queen went into the bedroom, took all the bed clothes off and laid a pea on the bedstead: then she took twenty mattresses and piled them on top of the pea, and then twenty feather beds on top of the mattresses. This was where the princess was to sleep that night. In the morning they asked her how she slept.

'Oh terribly bad!' said the princess. 'I have hardly closed my eyes the whole night! Heaven knows what was in the bed. I seemed to be lying upon some hard thing, and my whole body is black and blue this morning. It is terrible!'

They saw at once that she must be a real princess when she had felt the pea through twenty mattresses and twenty feather beds. Nobody but a real princess could have such a delicate skin….”

by Hans Christian Andersen

Time Traveling

We upgraded our Comcast cable box to a DVR. It’s magical. Tonight we were watching Jeopardy. Alex read a question, and suddenly Kevin paused the show to give us more time to think of the answer (cheater!). I looked at him, shocked. He then pushed a button and the show resumed. He did this several times. I asked what happens to the time? Will the DVR’d pauses catch up with the live show? And when that happens, does time in the universe stop? Can two versions of the same show co-exist at the same moment? Aren’t there rules about time travel, where you can’t visit your past or future self or both will implode?

I was just getting used to “On Demand” and how easy it is to set the DVR to record a series (did it for “Flash Forward” and “Fringe” tonight), but this pausing and playing of live TV freaks me out.

Kevin researched it and said the DVR automatically starts recording a show as soon as you switch to a channel. But I still don’t get it. It’s like electricity; I know it’s there, but how does it come out of the outlets? When I was little, my dad told me never to touch the holes in the outlets or a bug would bite me. I think I did, anyway, and something certainly hurt when I did it.

What’cha Been Smokin’? *

My dad lives on the second floor of the assisted living part of a large retirement apartment complex. A few days ago, he was awakened by the blasting sound of a fire alarm at 6:40 A.M.

At first he thought it could be a drill, but it was awfully early for that. He decided he’d better assume it was real, and changed into his clothes, put on shoes, then went out of his room.

He was shocked to see some smoke in the lobby. Smoke was also coming out of cracks in the elevator doors. The only other resident out there was his newest neighbor, Barbara. She had thrown on a robe and was standing near a window, where she could see downstairs to the office, which seemed to be the source of the smoke.

Soon one of the caretakers came upstairs and told them the smoke was coming from the microwave in the break room. One of the workers had been cooking a banana and somehow caught it on fire. The problem was contained to just the microwave and everything was OK.

My dad’s story made me wonder…Why didn’t all the residents leave their apartments when they heard the fire alarm? They’ve had fire drills for practice. While I’m glad my dad took the alarm seriously, why didn’t he just grab a robe and leave his apartment? How would the residents have escaped when there was smoke in the elevator shaft? If they tried exiting through their dining room and kitchen, would the doors have been locked?

But the question that bugged me the rest of the day…Why would someone microwave a banana???

(The next day I asked my dad why the residents didn’t respond to the fire alarm. He said they told him they didn’t know what it was or what to do. And the banana…it was a plantain. A worker had wrapped it in a paper towel and set the microwave for one hour instead of one minute, causing it all to burn and smoke).

(The photo is from www.twinkiesproject.com/radiation.html  It shows a Twinkie on fire. No plantains or bananas were harmed in this experiment, but I can’t say the same for the Twinkie).

* Those of you of “a certain age” will remember talk of people trying to get high by smoking banana peels in the 60’s. My quick research shows it can’t happen. There are no intoxicating chemicals in banana peels. It was a hoax published in The Berkeley Barb in March 1967. Wow, I haven’t heard of The Berkeley Barb forever!