Polarised!

Do you know that an MRI machine makes your hydrogen atoms rotate in the opposite direction to the norm? I don't know what came over me, but I actually read that little info book that comes with the appointment card and was fascinated. Immediately after the MRI I stood really close to the doctor to see if I had become magnetic to other humans with regular hydrogen rotation patterns. Nah.....

I think that out of all the fitness bloggers out there, I am probably the last to have an MRI. Over the past few years we have been the walking wounded (or, in Skwiggs case, not walking) and I'm sure you are all familiar with the MRI procedure. Dare I say that I found it quite womb-like and relaxing - in a bright white, noisy sort of way. The closeness of the tunnel did not freak me out at all and besides, I had my little emergency squeezy bubble in hand in case I did have a claustrophobic meltdown and the reassuring voice of the tech coming through the speakers asking me if I was still ok and telling me I was a star patient. Yes, it's a bit loud, with all sorts of sci-fi buzzes and rumbles, but not as loud as the compressor that runs the batch stamp on the labelling machine at the factory. Every time you see that little 'batch and expiry' number on your bottle of vitamins, spare a thought for the poor little soul that may have been wandering innocently around checking the aircon unit when the compressor cranked up to smack that thing on the label. That, my friends, is heart-attack inducingly loud. Not that it's happened to me or anything....

What was playing on my mind as I entered the machine was the whole 'is there any metal in your body?' question that was in the pre-scan questionnaire. It asked whether you had received heart or brain surgery, but did not ask about kidney surgery. I talked to the nurse and explained about the stent which had been in my kidney for a month after the surgery. It had metal rings so that it could be located on an x-ray if it - uh - 'went walkies'. I was worried that perhaps I had some residue in me, but she was sure that everything would be ok 'if it had been completely removed'. And, in that funny way that families have of showing their concern by sharing the worry, my sister had to say more than once 'gee, I hope it doesn't turn out that the surgeon left some scissors in you or something'. Yes... me too, Caz, me too.
As the MRI started I was all poised, finger on the panic bubble for signs of rogue bits of metal piercing my insides, but when it turned out to be painless I figured that Dr Mark must have counted his scalpels and successfully de-stented me. Then I nearly fell asleep, just like Kek. I really should get to bed earlier if an MRI scan turns into a chance to catch some zzzz's.

Results in a few days. I have to try and book an appointment with my always overbooked musculoskeletal guy. I'm very keen to know what my bones and joints look like to a professional.