Never Again

First of all, I have really awesome neighbors. :). I got my MRI scheduled and got everything figured out with childcare, but Chad was unable to come with me since he'd be headed down to Corpus Christi for work.  Out of desperation, I asked my neighbor across the street, Monica. {Side note - she may be my new BFF.  The things we have in common are crazy!}. My awesome neighbor agreed to come with me, just in case.  I even tried talking her out of it because I knew it'd be crazy boring and long, but she wasn't having any of that.

So, we piled in the truck, leaving my sweet babies with Tia Yessenia and headed to the hospital.  After I checked in it took FOREVER to get called back.  Once I did, I changed into my standard issue gown and got the IV started.  I was kind of confused because she said that I was going to have to walk to get to the MRI. Little did I know what that meant...

That meant walking through the hallways of the hospital, through the ER entrance (cue panic attack) and OUTSIDE to a trailer.  Yes, a TRAILER.  The trailer was probably very much like Chad's work trailer, although without Windows.  I had to stand on a lift to get me into said trailer.  Have I mentioned that I had nothing more than two hospital gowns on?  And, that it was hotter than balls outside?!

Anyways...my panic got much worse after I set foot inside the trailer.  Absolutely NO windows.  If I wasn't claustrophobic before, I certainly was now.  {Side note - I hate flying in airplanes.  I feel closed in.  Yep, this was worse.  WAY worse.}. I gave my locker key to the tech and she takes me into the very small room, it's about the size of a bathroom stall, and has me position myself on the table.  On the other side of the machine, it's completely pitch black.  Total darkness.  Being the intelligent person I am, I figured that since it was a MRI of the pelvis, they weren't going to put me in the damn tube completely.  Yep, I was wrong.  I don't think I can do this...

She puts me in the tube part of the way, hands me ear plugs.  Tells me I'll be fine.  Then the door slams and locks behind me.  Hell no...

I'm stuck.  Full on stuck, no way out.  No windows.  Just a call button.  Total darkness.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine myself in Disney World or on the beach.  I even tried thinking of the creepy machine as a tanning bed, but it was far too cold in there. I practiced deep breathing, I also swallowed a lot to keep myself from throwing up.  Eventually she came back in, to administer the contrast.  She pulled me out of the machine very briefly.  Then I went back in.  Thankfully, it didn't take much longer.  I truly could not get out of there fast enough - I would have run back to the building had it not been so hot and had I been wearing a bra.  (Ok, who am I kidding?!  That probably wouldn't have happened, but I felt like it at the time.)

Today I got my results.

Unremarkable pelvis. Whew!!  No colorectal surgeon for this girl.  It will just be my OBGYN doing the surgery, and we are on for July 13th.  I will admit, I still question if I really need to have this hysterectomy, but I know the answer.  If I don't do it, we're going to continue down the same path - trying different medicines, repeat doctor visits, and it's all going to cost an arm and a leg once our deductible starts again in 2017. May as well just get it done.  My doctor knows what is best for me.

I think I may be getting a little excited about the procedure - no more periods. Totally exciting, I know that was my favorite side effect of pregnancy. Just under a month to go...