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Wednesday, July 27, 2011


I had an MRI today because my doctor wanted to find out the extent of any kind of damage to my left ankle, following an injury earlier this season.
Fortunately, I've had few health issues along the path of life so this MRI was a first for me, and there were the usual trepidations. I was not liking the idea of getting into a narrow, confined tube, for obvious reasons.
I am not officially claustrophobic -- though I should add here that every time I watch a TV show with Zahi Hawass (the hat wearing Egyptian official who spends a great deal of his life squeezing into tight spaces) I end up covering my eyes because I can't deal with the close quarters.
So when I walked into the MRI space I had some serious trepidations.
Fortunately since it's my foot that is injured they didn't shoot me in head first, which could have resulted in a crazy scene. 
That said, as I lay there staring at the ceiling wearing a headseat to muffle the tac-tac-tac-tac sound of the MRI, I started laughing uncontrollably whilst attempting to keep my foot as still as possible. 
I suddenly craved donuts and bagels, mountains of them, foodstuffs that are not really part of my basic diet in the overall scheme of things, but man, I envisioned piles of them higher than Kilimanjaro and Everest all around me.
The technician stopped the proceedings at one point to ask me if I was okay, presumably because there really were tears running down my cheeks. 
But I wasn't freaked, I just finally realized the true meaning of the phrase, "Tubular, totally."
Amen, and pass the mustard.

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