MRIrrational

****UPDATE****
My MRI results were great--no abnormalities. This means that I most likely had a migraine, even though it didn't get better with the shot the doctor gave me. I would like to take this time to publicly apologize for ever thinking that a migraine was "just a bad headache and can't you just take some advil and get over it already." It took out my peripherial vision, made my neck so stiff that I couldn't turn my head and basically knocked me out of commission for two days. Now that I know how bad my head is capable of hurting, the next time I get a little sinus headache, I'm going to be all "Ha! Is that all you've got?"
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So, I had an MRI today. This was my first experience with any kind of medical testing, but I watch a lot of Grey's Anatomy, so I sort of knew what to expect. What I did not expect, and is certainly never shown on GA, is that once you lie down on the table, they encase your head in a plastic cage. A plastic cage, people.
Now, I don't consider myself claustrophobic, although I much prefer wide, open spaces to small, cramped ones. And I think I'm a fairly well-adjusted, intelligent, logical person (I heard those snorts, peanut gallery). But once that plastic cage fit over my face, well, all that went out the window and irrationality took over. I had to force myself not to rip open the cage. I focused on my breathing. I went to my happy place.
Just as I was settling down, it got worse. The tech slid me under the giant circle (love my medical terminology?) and then went to leave the room. "Be very still," she said and then went out the door. I was staring up at the giant circle when I heard the door seal with a whoosh and then lock. WHAT??? They don't lock the face-caged patients in a room on Grey's Anatomy. And where was Patrick Dempsey talking me through this ordeal from his place in the sound room?
My survival instincts kicked in at this moment and I found myself plotting my escape. Could I wiggle my head out of this face cage? I definitely could wiggle out from under the giant circle. Surely the door unlocked from the inside too? Where those windows sealed or could they be opened? Could anyone hear me or was this room sound-proof? Was this all a big set-up and had the tech locked me in here so she could steal my jewelry from the locker I had left it in?
As the questions swirled in my head, I realized the actual test had begun. The tech told me that once the machine started, it sounded like a woodpecker was in there with you. Right. Only if by "woodpecker" she meant "jackhammer". If my head wasn't killing me before this stupid test, it would be by the time we finished.
I could feel the panic starting to rise up again, so I racked my brain trying to think of a song to sing to myself. Something soothing. Something rhythmic. The sound of the jackhammer was making it difficult to think. Something soft. Something slow. Maybe a hymn. Maybe a lullaby. Maybe kumbya?
Anything. Anything, that is, except what finally did pop into my head. I'll leave you with a bit of the chorus: "My humps, my humps, my lovely lady lumps."