The MRI was scheduled for the day after the CT angiogram. My brother, Ray, had attended college in Wilson and volunteered to drive me over for the test. So, he did. We left home and drove over to Wilson, about thirty-five miles, stopping at Parker's Barbecue on the way. Parker's is a landmark restaurant for Eastern north Carolina pit-cooked pork barbecue, sometimes referred to as “pulled pork” by the initiated. After a meal of barbecue, Parker's famous fried chicken, Brunswick stew and corn sticks, we drove around for a bit. Just visiting and checking out some of the old areas from my brother's college days. Wilson also has a nice Harris Teeter grocery store, with a wide selection of interesting ingredients for the budding gourmet, which we both would stumble into as a hobby from time to time. They also had a wide selection of wines and imported or microbrewery beer, but the most interesting discovery of the day was the high quality Maytag bleu cheese.
I was interested in that, but my logic told me that it was too expensive to buy and waste as it almost certainly would never survive the wait during the MRI and the return trip home. Even early May in he tobacco belt is too hot for the proper transport of exotic cheese without refrigeration.Leaving Harris Teeter empty-handed, we drove over to the MRI facility. Once inside, I became involved in the tedious process of paperwork, endless forms insuring them that I didn't participate in any activities that might have put metal in my body, like: welding or grinding.. Ray and I both chuckled at this thinking about our father and how he could have never had an MRI. He had learned welding in the Navy and continued to work as a welder for many years after his discharge. There were visible slivers of metal in each eye. We both cringed at the thought of what would happen if he were to be exposed to the magnetic field of a MRI with so much metal in his eyes. I assured them that I had never performed any such activities, signed the requisite permission forms and took my place in the waiting area.After a reasonable wait, I was called back by the technician. I'd seen an M.R.I. machine before, but this one was different and not very comforting The machine I'd seen before was a large cylindrical shape.
In fact, that the problem I had with it. An M.R.I. on that machine is a bit like being slipped into a pipe except that, with large people, the pipe isn't big enough. This new machine in Wilson wasn't cylindrical at all. I guess it can be described as most looking like a more conventional X-Ray machine, a table with the scanning apparatus above. It has its advantages over the cylindrical machine. Being open at the sides, you aren't squeezed as you “go into the pipe,” but it, once you lay down on the table and slide into position underneath the scanning apparatus, it's a close fit between the scanner and your nose, especially since your head is fitted into a type of helmet. In a way, you get the feeling of being in a coffin. Not exactly the same as being squeezed into a pipe, bot not altogether comforting. The technician began the scan without injecting the dye. It's done in several stages, a few minutes each.
I had a saintly technician. At the end of each stage , she would stop so I could sit up and catch my breath. It was so nice to be able to relax for a few minutes between the stages and that each time you started again, you knew it was only for a few minutes until she'd give you a break again. It's much better than being pinned under there for the entire forty-five or so minutes it takes to complete a scan, both with and without contrast Some people like to get medicine to relax them before the scan. It's not a bad idea, but I hadn't thought of that beforehand.
After the first few stages of the scan, without dye, the technician came out to inject the dye. After the trouble the technician had the day before, there was a good deal of scar tissue built up, and that made it difficult to find a vein As she attempted, she said “Mr. Price, you're skin's as tough as an old man farmer out in the sun all day everyday.” I answered. “I've heard that my mother's veins roll.” She said “Well, you might not know it, honey, but yours do, too.” Finally, she found a good one, in my right hand this time, and we were ready for the part of the scan including the dye.It went pretty much the same as the pevious, with her stopping every few minutes to let me catch my breath.
