MRI-aphobic

Yesterday I went for an MRI on my back which I have to do from time to time for reasons I don't like to share because I'm not a sharer. I have a fear of the MRI machine but it's not claustrophobia. I'm quite fine in an enclosed space. Is that because you spend so much time with your head up your own ass? No, italicized me trying to get a laugh, it's not.

One of my fears has to do with sneezing. I'm a violent sneezer. I don't sneeze often but when I do, damn! If I sneeze in that machine, I will knock myself cold. I seriously spend the eighty minutes in there hoping I don't get a nose tickle.

Another fear is that some shape-shifting seductress may have injected me with liquid metal any of the times I've woken up in a seedy, strip club bathroom. How would I know? Do I take a magnet off the fridge and rub it up and down my body? Is a fridge magnet strong enough to pull subcutaneous metal? I doubt it. I'm going to have to wait until they turn on the machine and the metal pulls through my body as I curse all the people who didn't believe there were mutants living among us.

Then, there's the flooding hospital fear as instilled by last week's Grey's Anatomy. A quick recap: The hospital hit an iceberg, from what I understand, and began to fill with water. It slowly worked its way through the building and eventually short-circuited the MRI machine. Now, the man occupying the MRI machine on the show did not die but I think that's just because they needed him for the rest of the episode. Had he not been the character that brings hope and purpose to the main characters, he would have died because that's what happens when electricity, water, and a human body mix together. I'm really glad this episode aired before my appointment.

I guess I'm just happy it's over. Not moving for more than an hour while horrible noises blare in your ear is not an enjoyable time.