Part II
So, I managed to make it through the IV fiasco with my sanity intact. (See previous post, Memoirs of a Lab Rat) Although, while having a needle dug into my arm, Lab Rat Coordinator #1 and Lab Rat Coordinator #2 realized that they did not have me check off boxes on the consent form giving consent for them to save my blood for future research. So, while a nurse is asking me to clench and unclench my fist in hopes of pumping up a third vein, I am asked to read and give my approval for my blood to be frozen. (Cari on ice!) I asked them nonchalantly if they realized they were asking a person with MS to do two entirely separate things at one time. I'm sorry, but my lesion-laced brain can only take so much. I had already played their little games (run though their maze) and my brain was still tired from the memory math game. I'm telling you...Whoever decided to give that test to a bunch of people with holes in their brain is the DEVIL!
Before the blood letting, I was examined by a neurologist who shall remain nameless, which is only fair since I have to remain nameless. (Afterall, I am just a lab rat.) One hint, she used to wear a tutu. She had to evaluate me as if I were not her patient. P'shaw! I'm sorry, but I took cream cheese pound cake to her on my previous visit. Let her just try and forget me! She did a bunch of tests on me, all of them more pleasant than the stupid make-me-feel-like-a-loser math game. I had to walk for her too, five laps up and down the long corridor of the Mellen Center. I had already taken a Xanax to prepare for the MRI before the walk, so if she had waited a little longer to have me walk, it may have been a lot more fun to watch.
Before the blood letting, I was examined by a neurologist who shall remain nameless, which is only fair since I have to remain nameless. (Afterall, I am just a lab rat.) One hint, she used to wear a tutu. She had to evaluate me as if I were not her patient. P'shaw! I'm sorry, but I took cream cheese pound cake to her on my previous visit. Let her just try and forget me! She did a bunch of tests on me, all of them more pleasant than the stupid make-me-feel-like-a-loser math game. I had to walk for her too, five laps up and down the long corridor of the Mellen Center. I had already taken a Xanax to prepare for the MRI before the walk, so if she had waited a little longer to have me walk, it may have been a lot more fun to watch.
Next on the agenda was an MRI. This time, the MRI was only of my brain (no spine) so it lasted about 25 minutes. The MRI guy (I don't really know what his title is), encouraged me to wear headphones and listen to music to help block out the clanging noise of the magnets. I opted out of that. There is far too much Georgia rhythm in this girl's blood and I could just see me start shaking my groove thang in the MRI coffin and mess up the whole darn thing. I thought it safer to just listen to the magnets so I would only have to do it once. I'm thinking, at only 25 minutes, I could probably do it the next time without the help of pharmaceuticals. But then again, why would I want to? I mean really, if I can ride that X- train for 25 minutes, why not?
Next Stop, The Hospital
To be continued...
2 comments:
Better living through pharmacology. Yay.
You know it Thelma!
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