The MRI and Buffet Molesters
I spent all day and most of the night waiting on an MRI. The nurses woke me up at 8 AM to get ready to go. I finally got called at 1 AM this morning. (That’s 17 hours later.) I rode through the eerily quiet hallways back to the nuclear med area that is normally bustling with people, and noticed that someone had waxed the floor recently with a high gloss shine.
I believe that the MRI is one efficient diagnostic machine, but it’s no pleasure cruise. I have undergone about four MRIs before, but I am not the kind of person who would just act as if the whole diagnostic process was the best thing for me. Claustrophobics, like me, couldn’t wait for the diagnostics to be over. By the time I arrived at the room, they jammed the earplugs in, and slid the tube in.
I learned a few games before I could get through the long thirty-minute diagnosis. Just on my recent MRI session, I could wear headphones, and choose the music I want to be played. I surprised the technician when I had gone for heavy metal. He must have thought of Celia and Kapono by then. Honestly, I dont know the reason why I chose the music myself. Although I have a soft spot for Led Zeppelin, I don’t usually resort to heavy metal.
Now I did have a thought when they slid me in the tube. What do they do with buffet molesters when they need a diagnostic test? I go about 230 pounds or so, which doesn’t make me small by any means, but I can tell you that if you are any bigger than say…two fitty…you’d need to take a shower in KY (err…petroleum jilly) to get in the machine. These thoughts were reinforced when I returned to the room later and tuned in to an Oprah weight loss special, where many of the whale walkers lost the equivalent of a whole other person.
By the way, I had a phone call from my good old friend, Jeremiah just yesterday afternoon.
He thought that perhaps, I needed to take a bite frp, a grande chimichanga plate at a joint located in San Jose. He also said that if meds couldn’t work it out, I could resort to a colon cleanse worth $8.99. I decided that I should save street medicine as a last resort, but honestly, it gave me a pretty good laugh.
Let me also tell you what Jeremiah said. “You need Big Kahuna tools in your arsenal too, because sometimes, you may not want to get your clothes a little dirty.”
I agree. I’m in no moods for fights these days, but even if I could work up the muster, why break the sweat?
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Tagged with: hospitals • martial arts • MRIs • self defense
Filed under: Martial Arts
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