This Is How We Have A MRI

Today Caitlin had a MRI and for the first time ever, she asked a gazillion questions about the process and her previous experiences. I thought it might benefit her and shed some light on what these few days are like for our family if I write it down.

At this point in Caitlin’s treatment, we don’t have scheduled appointments. At the end of each visit with her medical team, we are told to come back within a certain amount of time. For a long time now, it’s been yearly visits, this time it was six months due to a concern with the last MRI. We were there in June, so we should have done this in December. Too bad I’m a weirdo and can’t schedule a MRI for the same month as her original diagnosis. I’m funny like that.

After a MRI and clinic visit, life pretty much gets back to normal and other than being involved with our support group and being aware of far too much heartache due to this disease, we enjoy an ordinary existence. It is when the date to schedule another MRI and clinic visit comes around that the anxiety starts to flow. I tend to wait until the last minute to make our appointments. Less time to get worked up is best I’ve learned.

So I call clinic and speak to Scott. He’s the no-nonsense-let-me-get-you-all-taken-care-of-miracle-worker. Even when I call late, he gets us in soon. MRI in Riverton, meet with medical team at PCMC. He reminds me of our doctors schedule every time because he knows I don’t want to talk to anyone else.

The day before or earlier on the day of the MRI, we make a quick trip to our orthodontist to have all the metal removed from Caitlin’s mouth. It’s a pain, but we can’t risk a bad MRI due to interference from braces. Before we go to clinic, we run back to the orthodontist to have all the brackets, wires, etc. put back on.

Caitlin has developed major anxiety with MRI’s after some really unfortunate experiences. We’ve taken the advice of our medical team and have started giving her Lorazepam to help relax her. It works wonders, however she gets really loopy and sometimes gets a stomach ache. Today she was laying on the floor when Caleb got home and told him she couldn’t move because she weighs a million pounds.

When it’s time for the MRI we head to Riverton Hospital. First we check-in, answer the same questions we’ve been answering for 11 years, then head back to change into huge scrubs (one of these days we’ll have Caitlin wear clothing with no metal). Next comes the blood draw. Caitlin’s a “looker” she likes to watch the whole process, from tourniquet to arm wrap over the IV. She doesn’t even flinch.

A long walk down the hall and we’re to the Pediatric Imaging area. A blanket is pulled from the warmer and Caitlin gets on the table/bed/gang plank thingy and ear plugs are inserted, the head cage slides into place, and then these foam wedges are inserted on each side of her head to ensure no movement. Even a little wiggle can ruin the image. The mirror is adjusted so she can see us and then she disappears into the machine.

At Riverton they are so good about letting us stand next to the machine and hold Caitlin’s hand. This time, Clint and I were both able to go in. We can squeeze her hand, wink at her, mouth encouraging words, and rub her feet. We are also given ear plugs and it helps with the noise, but it’s still pretty loud. Not only is there noise, the table that Caitlin is laying on slides back and forth and vibrates at times. The entire scan takes about 40 minutes, which is an improvement over the hour and a half it used to be. We know the half way mark when the tech comes in to add contrast to the IV.

When it’s all over, we say our goodbyes, change clothes, and Caitlin says a variation of the following, “Well, the hard part is over. It wasn’t that bad.” Until next time that is….