STORY TIME: My First MRI

If you’ve read any of my recent posts about my Crohn’s Disease, you know I’ve been strugglin’. (Here’s one!)

I recently went in to have my first MRI done, and it was… interesting.

Let me just start by saying – when I was first diagnosed (I was 17) they wanted me to do an MRI and I was way too emotional about it and couldn’t get the barium suspension down, and I just cried in the waiting room, and it was this big ordeal. Long story short, we left and I never had the test done.

Fast-forward a few years, I had a small-bowel follow through and had to drink something (not as much as I did with the MRI) and I did get it down, and had my test done.

Fast-forward a few more years – I’m in at the radiology center in this cute little outfit, pacing the waiting room, trying to drink this nasty shiz.

They gave me THREE venti-sized bottles (lol @ my Starbucks reference right now, who am I?!) of this barium suspension that tasted like…. bitter gummy bears?! It was thick “like a milkshake” and didn’t really agree with my sensitive gag reflex.

I got the first and about 3/4 of the second down before I was running to the bathroom because it went right through me. I got full so fast so when I started feeling bad, I refused to drink anymore. Like, I know damn well you can do the test even if I don’t drink all of it. I KNOW YOU CAN. DON’T PLAY WITH ME.

So they called me back around 12:30pm. I get on the table and he gets me ready for my IV.

“You’re an over-achiever, huh?”

I was confused until I looked down and saw the table covered in blood underneath my arm. Off to a GREAT start, Kaleigh.

They cleaned me up and proceeded to give me several shots through the little IV port thingy – I kept bleeding. They kept cleaning it up.

Then the doctor came in to give me a shot of something that would temporarily slow down my digestive system.

She pushed the syringe and the medication didn’t go in, it just pooled out under my arm, with blood.. again.

So she puts it BACK into it’s little container, and re-sucks-it back into a different syringe and tries again. This time she was successful, but I was still bleeding out of the port.

The tech-guy sits me up so I can get on my stomach for the MRI and the port is just dripping blood all over the table, my gown, the sheets – everything.

They finally realize the port is just not working and it needs to be replaced. I was concerned because the first prick hurt like a bitch and I was about to be one unsatisfied patient if I had to go through that again. Anyways – he goes to pull out the port and he’s tugging, pushing, pulling – oooowwwww?!?!

The nurse hands him the new attachment and he pushes and twists and pushes some more. At this point,  I’m nauseous, anxious, and I need to go to the bathroom again. So I escaped to grab half an ativan and then go to the bathroom.

I got back, got on my stomach, he gave me a pillow for my feet, hooked me up to the contrast IV, and got me headphones so I could listen to music.

I chose the America top 40 playlist. Wassup ONE DIRECTION?!

SO – I just drank way too much liquid, I don’t feel well, and I’m laying on my stomach. He tells me over and over to take a deep breath and hold it. FOR 20 SECONDS. I get that it’s not that long, but given the circumstances, that was a really long time! I couldn’t do it. By second 12, I was seriously struggling and trying to breath slow enough hoping they just wouldn’t notice.

They noticed.

My 30 minute MRI lasts about an hour and a half because he couldn’t get any imaging without movement because I couldn’t hold my damn breath. UGH.

When we were finally done, I spent about 20 minutes in their bathroom emptying the contents of what seemed like my entire body (LOL SORRY) and we finally left at around 2:30pm for my sister’s house.

Hopefully I won’t ever have to do THAT again…

quat

 

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