"TRUE! --nervous --very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses --not destroyed --not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily --how calmly I can tell you the whole story." The Tell-Tale Heart, Edgar Allan Poe, 1843
The alarm clock struck sharply at 5:00 am and I, groggy from not enough sleep, rose to face the inevitable, the horrible, the MRI. Quickly showering and dressing, I crept through the house in the dark, daring not to turn on a light for fear of waking ... the dog.
I planned my arrival for 6:50 am at this place. This cold place that took me from my bed. The keeper of the desk greeted me. By the wrong name. She embarked upon a tale too horrible to contemplate at that hour - the technician had been delayed. I recoiled in fear and grudgingly, sorrowfully, entered the waiting area where they had fresh coffee.
The seconds dragged on for what seemed like minutes. Finally he was there, standing in front of me. Decked out in a smock and knowing smile. “Follow me” he beckoned. “Undress here and remove all your jewelry” he commanded. I obliged. But then, the nightmare continued as he handed me a gown with no considerable backside for my considerable backside.
He returned as I sat wearily on the bench. “Come this way” . I followed him into a room where the machine sat, Groaning and clanking, a bed was made ready for me on the machine. I tried to escape, knowing what my fate would be but the tech, strong and wily, placed me on the starched white sheets faintly smelling of alcohol and panic. Earplugs were handed to me. A face guard was lowered into place and the screams welled up in my throat. Slowly, slowly, the bed disappeared into the machine and my screams were deafened by the sound of the machine. The machine. It was sending waves into my brain at a pace so fast and so loud that I was thrown off guard. I could not escape. I knew that this would be my end. Slowly the bed slid out of this horrible chamber of sound and the tech was, again, standing in front of me. I expected the worst.
He opened his mouth and my gut started to churn, I could feel the bile and the fear. My mouth tasted of panic. “You’re finished, have a nice day!”
The bastard. The swine. And then I was in the car and on the way to the office...