I have a herniated disc, which is pretty much the second worst thing ever after chronic migraines. I can’t imagine having chronic migraines. I get migraines when I eat yogurt, so I don’t get them often, but not knowing your trigger would be horrible. I mean even cancer is better than a herniated disc or chronic migraines, because it kills you, ending your suffering. These diseases, however, cause horrific pain, and for a long period of time. I’m not here to talk about my miserable life, and pain (today’s your lucky day). Instead, I’m going to talk about my first experience with an MRI machine, and how it changed my life forever (maybe a little dramatic).
I entered the hospital, walked up to the front desk, and cordially greeted the lovely lady sitting there. She asked me how she could help me and I told her I was there for an MRI. She stood up and said cheerily, “I’ll take you there.” I was floored. I didn’t expect the people to be so kind at the hospital. In my limited experience with hospitals, the staff tends to be grumpy. So the lady takes me down a hall, opens some magical doors, and points me to the imaging center. She left me with a smile and, presumably, returned to her desk.
I continued on, and talked with the receptionist and received some paperwork to fill out, and only responded to a few of the questions, because I’m not a medical wreck (I would really like to know what the most filled out form for the MRI was). They ask a ridiculous number of questions on the form, ranging from if you have shrapnel in your body to whether you’ve ever had an eye injury due to anything metal. My only response was that I had my ears pierced, albeit with acrylic plugs.
The receptionist and I chatted while I filled it out, and then she left me to sit in the waiting room once my paperwork was filled out. I sat, alone in the waiting room, and just enjoyed the quiet. In a few minutes an assistant to the MRI technician arrived, called my name, looked at my bracelet, and then showed me to a changing room. We chatted for a few minutes, and I explained to her that I had never had an MRI before. She assured me that she’d tell me everything I need to know. We went over the basics of the procedure, which isn’t really a procedure at all, and then she asked me about my earrings.
As I said earlier my earrings are made of acrylic, so I didn’t have to remove them. She told me all I would need to remove were my jeans and then she left to acquire some fancy patient pants and a gown for me to wear. She explained to me that the gown was just so I could keep warm, because the room was cold. She wasn’t lying, as I soon found out. However, I was digging the pants. They are the most comfortable pants I have worn to date. They blow sweats out of the water. They’re just the right consistency of material. They aren’t oppressive, but instead they’re lightweight. It’s almost like you aren’t wearing pants at all.
So I was escorted to the locker to deposit my things and then stuck in a waiting room. I waited for over 15 minutes for the current patient to finish their MRI. I read some terrible girly magazine, with an article about Hayden Panettiere. Did you know she has a tattoo in Italian that she misspelled? I couldn’t tell you what it said, because it was that uninteresting of a story. Apparently she’s also a country singer now.
Regardless of what Hayden Panettiere’s tattoo says, I was waiting for what felt like an eternity when the technician arrived and ushered me into the room. It was a cool room with the normal smell of hospital sterilization, and I was greeted by a cheery MRI operator. I asked her if it was okay if I kept my shoes on (hey, they make you take them off in an airport) and then I asked if I could bring the key for the locker I placed my things in into the room. I was cleared by the MRI lady and I proceeded to lie down on the tiny bed.
I was handed earplugs, and then a little puffer ball which acted as an alarm in case I had a panic attack or something or needed to talk to the lady. Then they put a little cushion under my legs and pulled the little bed into the MRI machine. When I entered the MRI I entered a new world. My world ended right above my face, and I enjoyed that. There was nothing but a few scuffs on the MRI ceiling to hold my attention, so I closed my eyes. A chattering of machine parts began and I swore I could feel the MRI acting on my body.
Soon my mind drifted away. I had nothing to do but spend time praying to God. It was a profound feeling to have nothing but time for God. There was absolutely nothing better to be doing right then and there. Thinking about the MRI or my herniated disc had dominated the empty parts of my day, so I had well over thought them, and now I could give God my full attention. I didn’t have much to say, honestly, but I did sit there and just take an inventory of where I was. I laid my soul out before God, and it was comforting to me. I feel like that time, set wholly apart for nothing but God allowed me to really express myself to him.
I understand that God knows me better than I know myself, but it he tells us to talk to him. The reasoning, in my mind, isn’t so that we can make all sorts of requests of him, but rather that we are saying to him, “God, I acknowledge you as a part of my life.” It seems, to me, pointless to ask God for things. A sovereign, omniscient God knows better than I do on every aspect of life. My requests are severely limiting. So, instead, I use my prayer time to just meet God and give of my time, the only real thing I possess on Earth.
I had thirty minutes of time with God, and I felt a serious connection that I hadn’t for the past few weeks. My life has been hectic lately, filled with training and practical output for my job at school and I helped with freshmen orientation. I hardly had time to think for the past two and a half weeks, let alone spend time with God. This time just reminded me how refreshing it was to set time apart for my spiritual benefit.
Sorry that this post didn’t have a lot of depth, but if you follow my Twitter you might find some there.