Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Round 2 and A Doc Who is Not So On Top Of Things

It has been one week and one day since my second MRI.  I haven't really blogged all the details of it yet...because well...it was sort of similar to the first.  I guess it should've been better, I knew what I was getting into.  And I guess in some ways that made it a little better.  But in some ways that made me even more apprehensive.  Oh, that and the fact that the doc didn't call in my prescription for the so-called 'relaxation' drug until ten minutes until six on the Friday after noon before (I had been calling all day because I knew that I wouldn't be able to get anything the morning of...it was scheduled for 7:45 on Monday morning)...I was pretty close to actually cancelling the whole thing.  I barely made it through the first one with the help of the prescription, I knew there was no chance that I would make it through without. 
Anyway.  Michael and I decided that bringing donuts and bagels would be a nice thank-you to the people there who had already helped me get through the first one and perhaps an I'm sorry to those that still had to deal with me for the second.  It was a lot more crowded, even though it was so early, and we had to wait longer to go back.  This did nothing for my nerves.  Oh and I had taken both pills at the same time, a good couple of hours ahead of time this go round (instead of on the pharmacists suggestion of just 45 min in advance)....I'm not sure exactly what sort of relaxation level I was supposed to get to but all in all I only got a little drowsy. 
I had to have an IV in my arm this time around.  No biggie.  We were in a different room than the MRI machine (thankfully) so I had a relatively low heart rate at the time and I probably didn't even blink as my new tech (poor guy, he seemed really nice, had no idea what he was getting into, haha) put in my IV and capped it off.  Then we had to head into the room of terror, I mean, the room with the MRI machine. 
As soon as we stepped foot in there, I swear, my heart rate went up.  Same as before.  Lay on table.  This time, no blanket, which I think was a little better, not that it helped much but that was one less thing holding me down, so to speak.  Michael was right at my side and the tech at the other, putting the dye in my IV.  One thing I was nervous about (and had asked about a thousand times) was if anyone had ever had any kind of reaction to the dye.  The tech said no.  I just pictured myself getting nauseous and throwing up in the tube and then not being able to sit up or turn my head to the side (remember, cage and something keeping my head straight) and then choking to death on my own vomit before they could get me out.  Sure, it was trendy for Jimi Hendrix to go out that way but he wasn't doing something as commonplace as having an MRI and he was way cooler than me to start with anyway. They let me lay there a minute to try and 'relax', which didn't ever happen, but I never felt sick or anything so I figured my worse case scenario (with the dye, not necessarily the machine itself) wasn't going to happen. 
It wasn't as long as the first time around, I will give them that.  But just as loud and dark and closed in.  I needed one break, after a particularly long set.  Michael did good, talked the whole time and held my hand.  I may not have felt quite as panicked as the first time, but still just very very scared and I really don't think that there is anything I could say or do or think or take to make that different.  As we left, the tech said that maybe if I had to have another MRI I could get it done at Northside and they could put me under, like they do for babies and small children.  I am not at all insulted, that sounds like a wonderful suggestion, one that you'd think my doctor would've suggested after hearing about the debacle of my first MRI. 
And that is another story, really the main topic of this post.  Michael had asked every day when he has gotten home from work if I have heard from the doctor yet on the results of the second MRI.  Nope.  Apparently, he is being asked a lot, haha.  I have even been asked what is the status.  But I just figured that no news is probably good news.  And also I have figured that if they didn't call to say I have to go back and do more tests, that this is good news for me.  Although not necessarily results.  Anyway, I finally called yesterday, in the morning, and left a message for the assistant to my doctor.  She called me back, close to 5 and said that the doctor hasn't even looked at my scans yet.  Um, what?  She said he wouldn't be in that office today and she would have him take a look at them on Wednesday and then she would call me and let me know what he sees.  Uh, ok.  I guess.  That is surely not the same as 'no news is good news'.  That is more like 'no news is the lazy doctor hasn't even looked to see if there is any news' news.  So now I guess you could say I am a tiny bit more apprehensive than I was before.  I could still hear that I need to do more testing.  Or that he found something on the scans?  A possibility that I haven't really thought too hard about....one that I will just wait to see what he says before I start googling like crazy or worrying like crazy or anything like that.  But I am still pretty annoyed that it took him over a week and a half to just look at the scans.  The last time he sure jumped on them and ordered another more testing before I could even recover from the torture of the first test....just saying! 

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