The next morning (we are on Day 3 now, my diagnosis was Tuesday and this is Thursday) my sister, my husband, and I had planned to head to the beach for the morning. I had my beach bag, my book, and I was planning to try my best to relax. There was nothing else I could do now, right?
Wrong! For some more background, I am a little shy. I don’t like confrontation and I am not very assertive. Of course, my sister knows this, probably better than I do. The night before, I had told my sister that my MRI was scheduled for 2.5 weeks from now. She thought that was unacceptable. She told me that this was going to be a long process and that this was my life. I needed to take charge, be assertive, and use all of my resources. I was a med student and now a resident in my hospital. I knew a lot of people with the potential to help me. I promised I would do my best to take charge.
On the way to the beach, she "suggested" I call my insurance company to see if they would cover an out-of-state MRI. Ten minutes into the drive I had found out that they would (and with her prodding, I wrote down the name and extension of the nice - and competent - woman at my insurance company who had been really helpful). Then we called my dad and told him that an MRI could be covered if we did it in Florida. I felt like we had accomplished something and thought I could let myself relax for a few minutes at the beach.
We got to the beach - so breathtaking every time I see it - and parked ourselves on 3 chaise lounges under an umbrella. We read for about a half hour and then my husband and I decided to take a walk along the beach. We walked and chatted, for probably an hour. When we got back to our chairs, my sister was nowhere to be found. I figured she was walking or at the pool and sat back down to read. Two minutes later she arrived, fully showered, but back in her beach clothes, out of the cabana, and announced that I had an appointment for an MRI in 45 minutes. Seriously? How in the world? Must have been Dad! I am very fortunate to have a father who is loved and respected all over his hospital.
So my husband and I ran inside to at least try to rinse off the sand. About 10 minutes later we were back in the car, headed to the hospital which was 30 minutes away. Dad met us at the valet parking - he and my husband had a long-standing tee time that afternoon. My husband tried to insist that he stay for the MRI, but I wanted him to be able to enjoy vacation at least a little. My sister would stay with me while the guys went to the golf course.
Picture this: my sister and I run across the hospital and to the MRI center in our beach clothes. I was wearing a tank top, a short skirt, and flip flops. My sister was wearing work-out shorts, a t-shirt, and flip flops. We both had wet hair, smelled like sunscreen and were leaving at least a small trail of sand behind us. We made it just in time and were psyched to see that HGTV was on in the waiting room! Why haven’t more doctors’ offices discovered that this is way better than Fox News?
My sister settled in to watch Designed to Sell with a cardigan she dug out of the bottom of her massive mom purse (air conditioning in Florida is freezing, especially with wet hair…) and a granola bar from my beach bag, while I was escorted to the back to get my IV and my scan. It is a good thing my other sister wasn’t with us – she would have passed out at the thought of me getting an IV just a room away! The guy was pretty good and it was only a small IV so no prob – I was already starting to get used to being poked and prodded. Although, getting out of my tight tank top and into a hospital gown without pulling out the IV wasn’t the easiest thing I have ever done.
I’m not sure if you have ever had an MRI before, but each time I have (2 others years ago for athletic injuries) I forget just how loud it is and just how slow. They asked what type of music I wanted to hear on my headphones, but there was no way I could hear Kenny Chesney when the magnet started doing its thing. I just tried to make myself relax in between repeats of “Take a deep breath. Hold it… Breath.” Forty-five minutes later I was out of the scanner and we were on our way out of there with a CD of the images in my hand and one thing to check off my list. I just had to get through the next day or so to hear the results.
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