By Heather O.
“Hello, Boston cab, can I help you?” (I’m in Boston. Did I mention that?)
“Yes, I need a cab at (gave address of the family member I am staying with).”
“It will take 20 minutes for us to get there. Do you want to call our more local cab company?”
(I think she said that, anyways. It could have been “a” more local cab company, which, in retrospect, would have made a little more sense, but as she was a good Bostonian and dropped her ‘r’s, I can’t be sure exactly what she said.)
“Sure. Can you give me the number?”
“Okaaay. Can you give me the name of another company I can call?”
Then she hung up on me.
Toldja it was odd. Methinks this call was not monitored for quality customer service.
I’m here in Boston for my semiannual kidney tune-up, which includes a lengthy heart and abdominal MRI. This is my 4th MRI, which made me a little overconfident. I mean, I’ve done this 3 times before. No sweat, my friend.
Which means I wasn’t fully prepared for my mild panic attack when they put me in the tube, with my arms pulled above my head. I calmed myself down with my advanced relaxation mind exercises, which consist of saying over and over in my head, “CALM DOWN CALM DOWN CALM DOWN CALM DOWN CALM DOWN CALM DOWN.”
I’m sure I could market that. That’s relaxation gold, that is.
But the odd thing was (since we’re on the subject) that while they were sliding me in, the towel they had draped over my arms to keep them warm (there is cold air blowing in the machine, and I was wearing only a hospital gown) slipped, and my right elbow was exposed. When they pulled me out and asked me how I was feeling and if I was warm enough in there, all I could say was, “My elbow was cold.”
I felt odd saying it, but it was true. And they did ask, after all.
So when they put me in again, they made sure that my elbow was nicely covered, but then the towel slipped at my wrist. So my second MRI, my wrist was cold. But I had advanced my mantra of relaxation to include visualization of my body relaxing into the mat I was on (which actually was pretty comfortable), and I found myself jerking awake when the tech started talking to me through the microphone. Jerking awake? Yes, jerking awake, which means that my body went from panic attack to sleep mode in a shockingly short amount of time.
That can’t be good for you.
But at least it’s over. Not another MRI for 2 more years. Plus, this time I got my very own copy of the scans, so I can gross out my husband with pictures of my internal organs. Good times, my friends, good times.
Anything odd in your life?
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