I only waited about 10 minutes before being called, which in most cases is an acceptable waiting period for any medical profession office. But this was not most cases.
I gazed back at Silvia as I rose and approached the friendly-looking medical technician and wondered if Silvia shared the same concern that crept inside of me; had enough time elapsed for the powerful little xanax pill to cast its calming effects on my tattered nerves? My answer would arrive quickly.
I felt strange as I walked through the door and into the MRI room. It was entering a world of technology that appealed to my scientific curiosity…but, it was also an encounter with a machine that would look deep inside of me and seemingly strip away my soul. It seemed too personal now, and I was afraid…it was unnerving!
The two technicians in the room were welcoming and very professional. I felt lucky being able to attend a private facility rather than going to a larger hospital and risk being treated like a number. I wondered how many times these technicians encountered the fear and apprehension I was exuding. Probably a lot…yet, they were able to remain patient and caring.
Their instructions to me were clear as I prepared myself. I didn’t look at the large MRI chamber too much, but just felt a deep desire to get on with it. I laid flat on the narrow table with my head slightly elevated. One technician placed a pillow under my knees and I felt comfortable and tense at the same time. My head was fixed into place with heavy weights just outside both ears. Then the same technician lowered a cage-like device over and around my head which just brushed my forehead. I felt like I was being prepped for some sort of strange carnival ride…something I’ve always despised. The technician made sure I was comfortable and explained what would happen once I entered the chamber (there is a good explanation of the MRI procedure here). Eerily, I only remember a couple of points: don’t move and it would be loud. Finally, the technician placed something in my hand and told me to just press the button in case things were not going well. It was a panic button.
The first couple of minutes were interesting. I slowly moved into the chamber, which seemed very tight. I tried to keep my eyes closed; I didn’t need any visual stimulation at this point. Suddenly, I heard the voice of the technician falling through the darkness and I could picture them outside the room – I felt like I was in a Dr. House episode. Loud clicking-like noises coming in 5-10 second intervals filled the first three minutes. The calibration process was underway and I felt naked. Then, the jackhammer began relentlessly pounding and I began feeling tighter and more enclosed. I wanted to move my head – somehow needing to find a more comfortable position – but, I remembered the instructions and didn’t dare move. I began feeling a growing sense of panic surging inside of me…how was I going to endure an hour inside of this chamber?
The jackhammer just kept pounding, taking an occasional break but always returning with an altered pitch. The loudness pulsed inside of me and squeezed air out of my lungs. It was time to panic.
I pressed the panic button…and waited. I pressed it again…and nothing…
I suddenly recalled the technician telling me I could speak directly to them if I had problems…just like Dr. House. I sheepishly uttered in my best German that I was having some problems…but, nothing except the loud jackhammer filled the chamber. I was stuck inside this chamber having a claustrophobic attack and no one reacted. I pleaded and waited…pushed the button and waited…whimpered and waited…pushed the button again and waited…
Suddenly, the jackhammer mercifully ended and I felt the table I was laying on slide out of the chamber. Two technicians were by my side – one removed the cage from my head and the other asked if I were ok…and in the same breath apologized for not reacting quicker as they had briefly left the room and did not see my alarm. I didn’t care…nor did I fault them. I was just happy to be out of the chamber and sitting upright drawing in as much air as possible.
The delay in getting to me actually turned out to be a blessing, because I had successfully finished the first phase of the brain scan and wouldn’t need to repeat it. But, how would I make it through another 40 minutes?
I got up from the table and sat down in a chair. I drank a cup of water…and felt slightly embarrassed. The technicians were quite understanding, however, and gave me enough time to compose myself…and perhaps more importantly, finally feel the effects of the xanax pill. I felt ready to give it another try.
As I laid on the table again, I took the time to make sure I was really feeling comfortable. I adjusted my head, arching it somewhat backwards to insure my airway was opened wide. I even asked the technician if they could do the MRI without the crazy head cage surrounding me. Much to my surprise, they agreed and I felt much better. Suddenly, I felt myself gliding back into the chamber.
As I re-entered the MRI chamber I heard the voice of the technician tell me there would be three minutes of clicking, then the calibration process began anew… but, this time I felt better…more relaxed. The voice came again after the clicking noise subsided to inform me there would now be about five minutes of noise…and on cue, the jackhammer returned. My new tranquil mood won over, however, and I even caught myself analyzing the sound. Then, after another five minutes the chamber fell quiet and I felt myself easing out.
Another part of my scan was complete.
The nice technicians were again by my side but, this time there was no panic. They filled me with confidence and told me I was doing great, although I wasn’t sure I agreed with them…it just helped to hear that.
One technician injected my arm with a contrast fluid, while the other explained what they were doing and why. My fear of needles had vanished and I wasn’t bothered. I wanted to just go back inside the chamber and get this whole process behind me.
The final 30 minutes went well as I somehow found comfort and a way to deal with the tight surroundings and loud noise…a noise which alternated between loud clicks, the familiar jackhammer and a new noise – something like a poorly played out-of-tune electric guitar. And then…I was finished. I made it through the MRI… My brain, neck and spinal column were filmed and ready to be analyzed.
As I left the room, I felt relieved…happy…very happy to see Silvia. Life seemed normal again, and I was delighted to be in the elevator with Silvia and telling her about my panic experience. We emerged into a sunny Zürich midday…and I felt my balance begin to leave my right side…
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