Scary Tube of Death

October 11, 2012:

Today is the day I am going to die...well, not really, but it feels like it. I have to have an MRI, which is the first step in determining where and if the cancer has spread. I have panic attacks just watching MRIs on House or any other medical drama...seriously. The one thing that truly freaks me out because I am so claustrophobic.

I spent the morning presenting my seminar (a big hit, invited back next year), and driving back from Yakima. I got a ticket on the way to Yakima the night before and my husband wonders why I didn't start crying and play the cancer card to get out of it. Sorry, just too angry.

The doctor has prescribed Valium for me, taken every 30 minutes for the hour before the MRI. I figure this will help. My wonderful neighbor has volunteered to take me to the hospital under the guise of going out, since it is at 7:15pm. I warn her that the last time I had Valium I only had 1/2 a tablet and it made me very relaxed. Now I've had 3, so I really don't know what will happen to me by the time we get to the hospital. She promises not to let me check into maternity :)

Let me just say that if they had told me the type of MRI they would be doing, it might not have been so bad. Yes, still a scary tube of death, but for a breast MRI you are on your stomach, looking through what I can only describe as a periscope. You only see the ceiling and lights of the room, not the small tube that is around you. This might have made me feel less anxious. 

It was about a 30 minute procedure and I did survive. And, by the way, the Valium NEVER kicked in. 

My husband was there to pick me up and home we went after telling me that the results would be ready in 3-5 days. SERIOUSLY? More waiting? Grrr...

On a side note: the Valium finally kicked in at 10:00 that night, and I didn't wake up until noon the next day. Good thing they hadn't been expecting me at work!