MRI'd

"And over there's the restroom," repeated the technician for the third time as I prepared for the MRI by stripping down to basic clothing.

"Do I need to be worried that this machine is going to squeeze something out of me?" I had to ask since she had nearly ordered me to go potty like a child preparing for a car trip.
Ignoring the bathroom order, I followed her down the hallway of sterile tile flooring and entered a room where the monster machine, looking like a gigantic donut, waited.  Following more instructions,  I layed down on the narrow table while pillows were wedged around me and my foot was secured in a fiberglass boot.  Headphones where applied where prearranged music would play during the procedure. (The Dixie Chicks were amongst the assortment to select from...I offered to update their musical inventory.) A panic button, clipped on a blanket and bumping my chin, completed preliminary procedures as she disappeared with the final command, "Now hold still."

Suddenly my bed, smoothly and silently, levitated and then, feet first, I was fed into the donut hole. Waist deep into the machine, my bed stopped and all kinds of sounds began. I had assumed an overwhelming hum was in order, but instead, I listened to what sounded like trapped miners rapping on pipes with mallets, a foot powered air pump airing up a huge tire and a ticking sound from an over sized windup alarm clock.

As music tried to muffle the sounds, of course my big toe had an itch.  And on the same targeted foot, the fiberglass boot had a pressure point.  Focus, focus...do not move....concentrate on something else...snow capped mountains, waterfalls...Look at the dust on the face of this machine...I wonder when is the last time someone wiped it clean?  How about those chipped up ceiling tiles? And two burned out light bulbs? Those others sure are bright, I wish I had my sunglasses. The burned out bulbs are stamped 80 watts...surely the bright ones are well over 100 watts. How long is this going to take?  I was told they were going to do several cycles. Whoa!  What's that?  Invisible fingers tugging at my zipper?  She said my pants were okay to wear, but also stated how the machine's magnets went after anything metal?

Suddenly, I was fed deeper into the machine with my mind wandering everywhere to pass the time. 

Eventually, headphones were lifted and I asked how long I had been in the machine.  "Thirty minutes," was the curt reply which led into my interrogation.

"How did you fracture your heel bone?"
"I didn't."
"There are pins nailed into your heel bone...explain those?"
"Achilles tendon surgery where it was surgically severed and nailed back in place."
"Who did your MRI prior to surgery?"
"There wasn't one."
"Why not?"
"Because it was a bone spur issue revealed by an x-ray?"
"So why are you here?"
"Seriously? Because something is wrong."
"Like what?"
"Like the tendon is partially detached. It's tender and disfigured...wanna see?"
"No. Has it been painful since the surgery?"
"Post surgery pain was intense, but it subsided."
"So what happened?"
"I DO NOT KNOW, and it doesn't matter. All that matters is that something is wrong and I really want it fixed so I can resume living life.  This MRI will hopefully expose the problem."
"We got great images."
"Cool.  So is there a partial detachment?"
"We don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?  You just grilled me about what you saw.  Did you notice a tendon flapping in a breeze?"
"It will be read by a specialist?"
"That figures...a specialist.  Let's prolong this another week or two and add more charges to my mountainous medical bill by having a specialist scratching his ass at his desk while glancing at my MRI images."
"You can leave now.  Change out and stop by the front desk on your way out."
"Oh no, you can't get rid of me that easy?"
"What do you mean?"
"I need to use the restroom.  But don't worry, I know where it is..."