3T or Not 3T

Not only is the coil back from TGH, it's in a brand spanky new MRI machine.  It's got lights the length of the tube inside and, like my first experience at Mount Sinai, requires me to lie with my arms extended above my head, arc of a diver-style.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself.  My escort du jour was the Jockette.  We got the chance to catch up in the waiting room.  I'm sure the other patient found us annoying as hell.  It's impossible to spend time with the Jockette without laughing uproariously, at some point.  There was the usual joviality, but we lost it completely while I was completing the paperwork.  There's an interminable list of conditions with yes/no check boxes beside each, and a comments column to the right.  The patient must indicate whether the condition is one they have/have had, in each case.

Mostly, I get to check 'no' as I go down the list.  No stents, no allergies to medication, no dentures, and so on.  When I reached the "cancer" line -- still chatting merrily away with the Jockette -- I checked the box indicating yes, and in the comments column wrote, "breakfast cancer"!  Needless to say, it's a pen in my hand, not a pencil, so I was forced to cross out 'breakfast' and replace it with 'breast'.  Hilarious and mortifying, all at the same time.  Fits of giggling ensued.

Once admitted to the inner sanctum, in went the IV, down went the Ativan (experience doesn't diminish my mild claustrophobia), on went the headphones and, laid out on the deck like Superman in flight, I slid into the machine.  Half an hour later, all those steps were reversed, and I rejoined Jockette in the real world.

Now I've just the date with the Dutchman on Thursday, and I'm good for another year.