The MT and the MRI
For weeks I have been dreading getting an MRI. I have grilled everyone I know to find out how it was for them, if they felt claustrophobic, etc. In fact I put it off once or twice. Then I bit the bullet and told myself that with all my yoga and breathing background, I should be able to relax and focus on my third eye, or at least zone out. My yogic friends assured me I could do that, no problem.
The day before the MRI I asked the Rite Aid pharmacist to call my doctor (who wasn’t returning my calls) to okay some valium, and one hour before the procedure I picked it up. A very low dose, just in case.
That was my deciding moment — to ingest or not. I could hear my herbalist friends saying take hops, or valerian root or rescue remedy. I think that herbs are often the way to go. Maybe I could get a massage right before the procedure, or have someone massaging my feet while I lay there to help me relax and stay still. I had gone there several weeks earlier to see the room and the MRI “thing”, as I called it. It didn’t look as much like a coffin as I feared, but I still found it almost impossible to envision me in it! It was going to take an act of magic for that to happen, I thought.
The closer we got to the hospital, the closer the drug got to my mouth. Especially when I heard herbalist Susun Weed in my head saying how overused x-rays and imaging are in the United States, and how potentially damaging they are. I had to block her voice somehow. I would rush home and eat seaweed to help detoxify!
In most cases, I would rather experience an event raw and undrugged and pay attention to the experience in all its nuances. But since I still felt affected by t he car accident several months earlier, I thought I might be unusually on edge.
Ten blocks from the hospital, down it went. I wasn’t really aware of any shift in my way of being or my perspective. I was fine with the whole experience, especially after I told the radiologist to keep me informed regarding what he was doing. The earplugs were helpful, actually necessary. The loud, stacatto banging noises I still heard I used as percussion for some choreography and for planning my next yoga class.
It was over fairly soon and I was impressed how little the drug had affected me. I think it made it easier for everyone, and other than tripping over a rose bush the next morning, and sliding down the hill in my backyard, it was an overall positive experience!
