Lying on the table today waiting for the technician to get everything in place for my MRA I was struck by how normal it seemed.

It shouldn’t seem normal to have your brain scanned to make sure that your weakened blood vessels aren’t going explode from the pressure of your blood racing through them.

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I just got sidetracked for at least 30 minutes reading an article on www.migraines.org

about myths and realities surrounding migraines. 

I am fairly certain that if I do wake up in the morning, it will be with brain stuff oozing

out of places it shouldn’t be oozing out of. At the very least I will be twitching or something.

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Back to me.

Head firmly encased in that pretty plastic cage thing pictured in the image above, the technician maneuvered me into the barrel. He told me to keep my head very still. As if I had a freaking choice. The procedure took about 10 minutes which was much shorter than previous MRI scans I’ve had done.

MRA stands for Magnetic Resonance Angiogram. An MRA is a specialized type of MRI that is used to study blood vessels. It is most commonly used to detect, diagnose and aid in the treatment of heart disorders, stroke, and vascular diseases.

This is an image from an angiogram which is not mine that shows an aneurysm. See that out of place looking blob in the center of the image? That is an aneurysm. That looks out of place because it’s not supposed to be there.

This is NOT my brain.

 

Still not my brain.

My concern is stroke. Given my history of migraines and their persistence, frequency and severity; I have grown more and more concerned about the integrity of those little tubes o’ blood in my head.

My mother had a series of strokes with I was 15. This scared the crap out of me, but I think it scared her more. Not so much because of the strokes mind you; more so because that when I was little I apparently told her that she was going to die when I was 15. Precocious little tyke wasn’t I?

It is a valid concern, this aneurysm thing. My sister Chris has some odd tangly brain vein thing that has a very medically srs bznss sounding name which I can never remember. At least I think she does.

Adding to the “hey, there really might be something wrong with my brain” theory is the fact that my memory is shot. I mean shot. I pretty much have zero short term memory and I have to write everything down in order to remember it.

At any rate….

While the MRI machine whirred and clicked around me I wisely spent my time thinking.

I briefly thought about my tax refund in as much as that I wondered where the hell it was. According to the “this is when we do this” IRS time table, it should have been deposited on 2/13. Of course there is a disclaimer on the chart stating that “this date is only an estimate’’ because god forbid someone is actually held accountable for something.

The rest of the time I spent planning exactly what I would do when (when, not if) the technician came back in the room to tell me that they had discovered a very unstable aneurysm and I needed to be taken to surgery immediately.

First I would ask the technician to get the key from the window ledge of the room I was in. The key was to a cabinet that housed my cell phone, wallet and car key.

I would explain that I needed to call my mother-in-law to stay with my Luke and notify my parents of the situation.

I would call her. She would take the news with a calm that belied her fear and then do whatever needed to be done. She would get Luke and gather some clothes for me. Luke would be worried.

He would make sure though, that I had all the things I needed at the hospital. He would stop mid-stride to think of everything I could possibly want and he would gather it for me.

He would tell the cats that I would be ok.

Then I would contact my boss to let him know that I would not be at work for awhile. I would apologize, because at this point in time my physical wellbeing would not be any different than it was 30 minutes before hand. I would “feel” fine, regardless of the fact that any moment a vessel in my head could burst forth with life sustaining blood and kill me dead. That wouldn’t occur to me because I would be thinking of the things that needed to be accomplished in my absence.

I would contact some other people and make some arrangements.

I would let a few friends know.

That’s it. No emotional outbursts. No freak outs or panicky moments. Calm, precision, logic.

I bet you’re thinking that I had one of those epiphany things where people realize that they are going about this whole life thing the wrong way.

I didn’t.

I’m happy with that flow of action, with that proposed reaction to a potentially tragic situation. I’m even happy with my choice of thoughts during the procedure that could very well lead to some not so pleasant news.

I like logic and calm in the face of chaos. That is where I am strongest.

I have had a rough day emotionally. I am struggling with guilt that is not mine to bear yet I bear it anyway. No one placed it on my shoulders; I heaved it there myself.

I feel very adult today.

It is an odd mixture of pride, excitement and longing.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, February 17th, 2009 at 12:17 am and is filed under medical, no really, this is heavy shit man..., serious. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.