Tuesday, May 12, 2009

My first MRI

I had to bail on my last knee doctor since, while he was in my health plan's network, the place he does his surgeries was not. 

(Slight tangent: Man I hate the health insurance industry. The whole thing. Except the part my daughter will eventually be working in. Which brings to mind - how odd would it be to be hospitalized and have WHM end up emptying my bedpans. I'd say there is justice somewhere in that but I know that I will probably be pretty vulnerable at that point, and WHM will have already put up with all she can stand raising those two yard apes, so I will not risk saying anything like that at this point. In public.)

As opposed to my warm-up knee doctor, my new knee doctor wanted me to get an MRI and pointed me at a place called Health Diagnostics (their real name) in Burlingame. I made an appointment and the next day they called and made me move it later, right into the heart of rush hour traffic. I showed up for the appointment, filled out four pages of forms, and spent the next 30 minutes trying to find an even vaguely interesting magazine in their waiting room. I could hear the receptionist making calls and trying to talk someone into coming in to deal with me. Eventually, she gave up and told me I'd have to reschedule.

Burlingame during morning rush hour is about a 45 minute drive. So I got her to pick one of their facilities much closer to Redwood City (in Menlo Park) for the next morning.

This morning I filled out those same four pages of forms, had the same poor selection of magazines to choose from, but thankfully had little time to worry about it since a nice young woman with a flower painted on her big toenail took me right in.

If you've never had an MRI, you should sign up for one as soon as you can. (Of course I'm lying.) It actually wasn't that bad. They made me put in earplugs and wear a pair of noise blocking headphones and still it was pretty loud. Imagine bad techno music, sporadic tests of the Emergency Broadcast System, and hyperactive jackhammers taking turns competing for being the most annoying noise for about 15 minutes, all the while you dare not move for fear of having to restart the process. I was very happy when flower-toe lady came in to free me from the device.

(Odd thing - they are very paranoid about you having anything metal on - I had to remove the stud from my pierced belly button.* I asked about my rings and she said those were no problem. Apparently she was right - they did not heat up and sever a finger as I had expected. You can imagine a lot of odd things while trying to lay still for 15 minutes.)

The ironic thing about all this? My knee hasn't hurt for about a week now. My right elbow though...

That's it - move along...

*Oh yeah sure, like that's ever going to happen. (Me piercing my belly button I mean. Some people, like maybe WHM, would have to spend a good 30 minutes getting all that metal out of whatever bizarre places they have it stuck in.)



Emily had one done last month and they took her i-Pod and plugged it into their system so she could enjoy her own music.
Getting old's a bitch ain't it?!? Hope your knee isn't too damaged.

DAK said...

Have to agree with Daaaaaauuunnn about getting old. I didn't know that you had had your, you know, pierced and that diamond that once belonged to Benito Santiago put in there, like, permanently. Did the MRI show you were from Puerto Rico? Are you guys ever going to stop going to hospitals? Please?

mary ann said...

Yes, this is a hospital-filled blog, but I like the image of WHM being your nurse one day. Tee hee.....