Yesterday, I had a horrible experience that came to include a truly miraculous, loving experience literally wrapped inside. I had to have another MRI -- two in fact. I wrote about having the Brain MRI last week. I have had those several times and they are very hard on me. I have claustrophobia and for the brain scans you are laid down on the narrow table with your head placed in a little trough to hold it in place. Then they pack the sides so you can't move your head, place a hard, plastic cover over your face and ship you into the machine!
I have to make certain to have my eyes tightly closed well before anything covers my head and to be thinking intently of wide open spaces and never once think about where I am. I also have to have taken proper amounts of Valium. I usually picture the mountains and camping spots we've been on. I remember that during the MRI in the summer of 2004, I "walked" every day of our trip to Paris. If I can keep my mind firmly outside of the machine I can handle the test.
But yesterday, the MRIs were on my cervical spine and thoracic spine and so were 90 minutes instead of 45. I took my pills, wore my comfy clothes, tried to pysch myself up for it. But to reach your spine, you have to go much further into the machine. I closed my eyes, they put the plastic cage over my face (but, thankfully, didn't have to pack it) and then slid me in. And it was instantly horrible! There was no way to escape where I was - my elbows touched the sides of the very narrow tube, and with every breath my wrists -- which had to be crossed over my abdomen touched the top of the tube!
I squeezed the panic button and said take me out right now. They took off all my coverings and I just breathed and tried to talk myself down from the panic I was in. The tech tried to help - he said they deal with claustrophia every day, and told me it was my decision. I finally decided I was ready to try again, closed my eyes as tight as I could, moved my arms as low as I could and went back in.
I knew that no mountain or stroll would get me through this. I just breathed prayers over and over -- "Help me, Heavenly Father. Help me." Over and over. I tried to sing hymns. I couldn't remember any. You all know me -- I couldn't remember a hymn? I finally came across "I am A Child of God". I sang the first verse over and over in my mind. That lead into "I know that My Redeemer Lives". Not the whole song or even one whole verse, but different lines like "He lives to silence all my fears". And after about a half an hour I realized that I couldn't feel the tube anymore. My hands were grasping each other tightly and I could tell that part of my hand was asleep, so I thought that was why I couldn't feel it. And I was so grateful to Heavenly Father for taking away the sensation of feeling the tube and said so, over and over.
I made it through the whole 90 minutes of the tests, but I never made it to the mountains or Paris. If I took my mind off of hymns or prayers, I was immediately in trouble again. But about an hour into the test when I was feeling particularly assured I raised up my hands to feel the tube. I discovered that the reason I wasn't feeling it wasn't because my hands were numb -- my hands moved up almost an inch before touching the top. Either Heavenly Father made the tube larger or me smaller, but either way it was a miracle and I made it through this terrifying trial. It is so comforting to know that our Heavenly Parent does not want us to suffer, just as we watch over our own children in their anguish and want to help.
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