mice, MRIs, and maddening sisters.

ugh. tried to edit this to take out a part. but then it posted it NOW instead of back where it was in the line... original post was between 3.22.09 and 4.20.09. Sigh.

i hate my blog format. grrr.

unless i want to delete it completely, this has to go here now...

March/April 2009:
i had to wake up early this morning.

apparently, i have some kind of lovely birth defect, and my uterus is abnormal. (Uterine septum or didelphys.) and since it's not formed right, the Dr ordered an MRI of my pelvis to make sure i have two kidneys.

so, i'm thinking- no biggie. i'm old hat at all this MRI stuff. i've had to get them for my teensy little brain tumor thingy.

but. this MRI place is a different one.

and Leif, the very gay receptionist, tells me that i cannot wear my street clothes. this is rather deflating, after i was oh-so-careful to wear a bra with no underwire and pants with no zipper or metal. and so, i am cranky about having to change into a stupid hospital gown, and annoyed i have to carry a big stupid locker key around. i'd rather just carry around my pants.

Leif also seems a bit too cheerful.

then some chick takes me back to the MRI machine, and i ask for earplugs. (because MRIs are VERY loud, and i can see a nice big jar of earplugs, and I WANT THEM.) but she says, we'll get to that...

so, she goes out of the room. which is appreciated. but i don't know why they always leave you alone SO LONG. every doctors office, they tell you to change clothes or whatever and then never come back. i am always dressed or undressed in less than 30 seconds.

so i sit there and wait, and look longingly at the earplugs.

also, i sneeze.

finally, some guy comes back in the room. and i say, "hi. can i have earplugs now?"

and he says that instead, i can wear earmuffs/earphones and listen to music, and what kind of music do i like?

this is the part where i should have been firm, and said, no! i want earplugs. but i was not prepared for his response. and it was new, un-thought about information.

so i end up strapped in with headphones. plus, this machine does not have the friendly mirror that lets you see out into the room. so it is a little more claustrophobicky, but that is still ok, because i like tight places. but what IS very annoying is the air blowing on my face. it is not blowing symmetrically. it's blowing more on my right eyeball. i close my eyes. but it doesn't really help.


and the machine starts and i have to be still.

i am not excellent at staying still. i am twitchy. fidgety. bouncy. tick-y. when the music finally starts, i realize what a bad idea music is. i try to keep the music in my face and not in my feet. i can feel it in my blood, in my bones. and i worry that my kidneys are dancing around on my insides. i can't relax, because then i'd twitch, so i have to be vigilantly still. which is hard. and takes up a lot of thought-space.

plus, the music is too loud.

1 minute down, 48ish to go.

i said i don't mind being snugged in a tight space, but, i don't like to be snuggy when i'm HOT. and this MRI was very hot.

there was some camera thingy across my hips, and it started to really heat up. and it was hot from the other side too, on my back.

i started to get panicky because it made me feel like i was in an oven.

DA DA DA DA DA DA DIH. DIH DIH DIH DIH DI DI DA. and linkin park is screaming in my ears. DA DA DA DA DA DA DIH. DIH DIH. and my right eye is numb with cold. DI DI DI DI DIDIDIDI. and the rest of me is sweating. DA DA DA DA DA DA DIH. DIH DIH DIH DIH DI DI DA. and my insides are baking. i'm trapped! i'm trapped! hot! hot! oven! i'm dying oh my gosh they're killing me they're killing me oh no i should NOT have sneezed and now my guts are going to burn up and i'm going to die and SHUT UP linkin park, and my ears hurt my ears hurt i want to shake this off my head it's TOO LOUD and i DON'T LIKE HEADPHONES, and WHY DIDN'T I GRAB THOSE EARPLUGS IN THE PRETTY SHINY JAR AND WHAT THE HELL KIND OF NAME IS LEIF ANYWAY!!!!???? DA DA DA DA DA DA DIH. DIH DIH DIH DIH DI DI DA!!!!!!!!!!!!

when i got home, i took a nap.

later in the afternoon, i had recuperated. i was dancing around in my room to you-tube videos. i've got a pocket got a pocket full of sunshine.... and then i went out into the living room.

there. was. a. MOUSE.

it was not moving. i thought it must be dead. two cats were in the room, looking unconcerned.

but. it was NOT dead.

i poked it.

and it slowly, oh-so-slowly, turned it's sad little head away from me.

this squicked me out and made me cry.

because i felt like a mean ogre, and the sad little mouse was feebly trying to escape me, but it was dying and could only move it's head and could not muster a proper attempt.

so i felt HORRIBLE. and i cried. and i wanted to put it outside, but i didn't want to touch it when it was still not-dead.

i ran and hid in my room. and cried. and then a friend was on Skype, and she was properly sympathetic and told me to go get a dustpan. i did not think of that. i was all stressing, and forgot that i could get the mouse outside without touching it.

so i went back in the living room. and the mouse was limping a bit, and the cats were batting it around. i scooped the mouse away. (but i patted them and told them they were good kitties.)

i put it on some grass in the sun.

it took a long time to die. i kept checking on it. it was really windy and cold outside. but i hope the grass was a little nicer than with a cat.

when garret finally got home, it was dead. and he scooped it up with the shovel and was going to dump it in the trash, but i said- no!! bury it!

so he did. and i watched through the window. and then he stood for a second over it... which was so cute it made me laugh. and he came back in and i was laughing, and i gasped- did you just pray over that mouse?

and he grinned like i was cute and he said yes, he thought i would like that. (and i did.)

so, that was good.

what was NOT good, was my maddening sister. i was on the phone with her. and i had just gotten over the mouse, and she decides to tell me a horrible story about a baby turtle that she KILLED and crushed with her car in her excitement to reach it.


she was all- i dunno. i was letting you know that i know how you feel.


she coulda just said- i know how you feel.

i hung up the phone after that story and cried about the stupid turtle. the poor turtle that had it's eyes squished out of it's head. (yeah, she felt the need for details like that.)


but now, garret is making brownies, so things are looking up.

No comments: