I went down to Becky's for breakfast today, by myself; sat at the counter and read my current Master and Commander book (we're still on The Hundred Days), which seemed kind of apropos and kind of cocky, since Becky's always has been a place primarily for waterfront working people. It's amazing to me how perfect their omelets are, and how neatly folded. And I'm also endlessly grateful that I can get gluten-free toast and grilled blueberry muffins, so of course I got both, and then ate until my tummy hurt and put the rest in a box for later. Which might be sooner, now. :)
The trip to Portland was because I needed a follow-up MRI to the one I had six months or so ago, because they found these hemangiomas on my liver when they were trying to discover why I have these random-seeming pains in my lower left abdomen. Apparently hemangiomas are common, but they need to follow up when they see them to see if there's any change in them. In a year I might have to have another MRI even if they don't see any change this time.
I nearly fell asleep in the tunnel, which surprised me. Maybe I did the same six months ago when I was in there, I don't recall, but I didn't expect it because it's pretty loud (they even give you earphones to deaden the noise) and one would think that it would feel claustrophobic and make a person too panicky to fall asleep. The tech said it is quite common; all the noises seem to lull people like chanting. It could also be the after-effects of the Tylenol PM I took last night, too, but my pet theory at the moment is that sleeping is a way to avoid panic. I have always thought that I could never sleep in one of those coffin-hotel things, but knowing that I've got the panic button in my hand (a bulb thing the tech gives you so that you can signal if you need Out Now) is a huge help. I had a feeling that if I allowed myself to want to do something badly, like scratch my nose (the nose itching is always the first thing that happens when you get all strapped down, right?) then I could start to panic, so I didn't allow myself to think about wanting to do anything. And then you have to listen for the commands, and breath deeply and regularly - it ends up like an enforced meditation. Even though I had to be awake to drive for a half hour, when I got home I laid down on the couch and drifted in and out for a while before I convinced myself that I had to get up because I have to drink a lot of water to get the dye or whatever it is they use out of my system.
When I finally got up from the couch I realized that while I was in Portland I could have gone over to the fabric store to look at something for a liner for my coat. Oh well, some other day.
Oh, useful tip for women who might be getting an MRI (though I don't imagine you'll remember any more than I did) - the underwire bra will have to come off. Last time the tech had me do that and then he started the IV, but this time a manager, trying to help him, started the IV for me and forgot to tell me to take off the bra. I had on a long-sleeved t-shirt, the sleeves were kind of tight, and now I had one sleeve pushed up and the IV plug in my arm, though it wasn't attached to anything. I'm really glad they use those little plastic tubes instead of metal needles, because it makes me more willing to bend my arm. I didn't think I could really get the shirt off, but I managed to get the bra off without removing the shirt. :)
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