Buried Alive

My MRI for my shoulder was this afternoon. I had to ask a friend of mine to watch I. because the girl I use now and then for babysitting wasn't available. I dropped I. off and headed over to the appointment.

I should have put two and two together when the MRI questionnaire asked if I was claustrophobic but since I'd had one for my back done about 16 years ago without incident, I didn't think anything of it and certainly didn't want to state a weakness that may not even come into play.

I got changed into a gown and went into the room and that's where the trouble began. When I had the MRI on my back, my lower body was put into the tube but my head was not. In the past, claustrophobia has only been a fleeting problem. However, since Mark has died, it has intensified significantly. It's been getting better the last few months. Earlier this year, if I was in the car on a one lane freeway turn-off with cars in front and in back of me, I'd start getting panicky like there was no way to escape. And when V. and I went to a concert in LA last August and we were trying to make our way out and everyone started backing up, I had a really hard time staying calm and had to look up into the night sky to make it through the crush.

I laid down, not too concerned, confident that I could make it through. But when you get a shoulder MRI, they have to put you all the way inside the tube. When you're completely inside, there's no room for your arms to move to the side without hitting the side of the tube and worst of all, the ceiling of the tube is a matter of inches above your face.

He pushed me inside the tube and even though my eyes were covered, I could feel the top of the tube right above me. I tried to stay calm but I started to panic and said, "I don't know if I can do this, I don't know if I can do this." so he pulled me back out and asked if I was feeling anxious in there. Silent tears began spilling out of my eyes and I said, "My best friend died not that long ago and my anxiety is still really high. It feels like a coffin in there."

I took a few moments to take some deep breaths as he told me that I could make another appointment, have someone drive me and take a Xanax or two beforehand -that's what lots of people did to make it through the MRI. His voice was background noise as I remembered how I had to arrange for someone to take care of I. and how tough I used to be back in my martial artist days.

That's when I decided to try again. I wiped my tears away and decided if I was going to raise I. to be a tough girl, I would have to go back to be one too. I let him roll me back into the tube to start the test with a "rip cord" in my hand - all I had to do is squeeze it to make it all stop. But I didn't. I concentrated on my breathing, willed my mind to memories of I. being born, the early days, funny memories with my father, what V. and I could do on Friday, what needed to be packed etc. And I stayed in there for over 20 minutes. The noise was deafening and by the end of the test, my head was pounding, my mouth dry, and my bowels liquefied.

But I made it through. It wiped me out but I made it through and I'm proud of myself.