I sit alone in a changing room, waiting for a MRI brain scan to look for the cause of my stroke. I wait, for someone to tell me what to do. Finally a technician tells me to strip and put on hospital scrubs and white socks.
“What do I do with my clothes?”
“Just leave them on the table.”
“Where is the table?”
The nurse pauses a beat before answering,”On your left side.”
This is when I have my first of many evil wishes. The table is on my right but the nurse sees the table facing me so it is on her left.
I find my scrubs and wait a little longer. The room is colder than I like. Goosebumps soon form on my arms and thighs. I resist removing my hearing aids until I am in the room housing the machine. As a blind person, I rely on my hearing for clues what’s happening around me.
I was led by the hand like a child to sit then lay on a sliding mat to be pushed into a small opening in a large machine. I knew that the machine was large because I ask to feel it first.
Instead of telling me what to expect and what I needed to do, the last instruction from the tech was,”Don’t move!”
I felt my body slid forward and I was encased inside the machine. I heard the magnets clang and move around my head. I thought of the earrings that I had almost not taken out this morning. I wondered why they hadn’t bothered to ask me about any piercings.
Halfway through the M.R.I., I remembered every horror movie where the brain is removed and replaced with an evil clone. The tube feels tomblike. The warmth of the MRI machine causes claustrophobic panic as I start to sweat. Cool air alternates with heat, chilling my body. I should have taken the extra blanket when it was offered. I was pulled out of the machine. I felt like a cork popped out of a bottle. The tech was talking but I shook my head because I couldn’t understand.
An IV was inserted in my arm to deliver the dye. Though I had dye in the past, This time I felt cold then clammy.
When I asked, the tech she yelled, that it could be a reaction to the dye.
My next wish was to give the same injection into the nearest tech. My mind saw small psychedelic undulating worms in my visual field. I was surprised. I hadn’t had any useable vision for years.
Finally, I was pulled from the machine and could move.
“Where are my hearing aids? ” Inserting them into my ears, I could understand what the techs were saying. I could hold on to the tech’s arm to find my way back to the dressing area.
I was left to locate my clothes by myself. One of my shoes fell to the floor, I had to find it with my feet. The clothes were in a pile not folded as I had left them. I wondered if any of the technicians could get dressed in total darkness!
When I was dressed a tech came to escort me out to the waiting area.
“Well, I am glad that is over!”, I said.
“O, you will be back in two months to have another MRI test.”
Inwardly, I groaned’ but outwardly I smiled at thoughts of sticking each tech with pins as one would do with a voodoo doll. Next time, I will be more assertive about my needs.
Carolfarn@aol.com
traveling up and down the blind highway 
Carol, So sorry that was a terrible experience for you.
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Hi Carol, I feel your discomfort and have made some of those same evil wishes myself.
Here’s something I’ve started doing. In the short term it’s not a lot of help other than it allows you a conversation to speak about your needs. but I’ve created business cards with my name, email and website on them. I give those out to people like techs. That leads them to a place where they can learn more about me as a disabled person in a way that is comfortable for them to be educated.
I’ve seen some good changes come about by doing this. Some won’t read but others will.
I’ve even had people buy my books because of it.
Speak up for yourself in whatever way you’re able and keep on having those evil wishes.
Hang in there.
Great post.
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Reblogged this on Pattys World.
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Why is it that medical folks are the worst at dealing with blind and otherwise disabled persons? When I was a rehab teacher some years ago in MO, I made an informational video for hospital staff who seemed absolutely clueless about the very things you describe. Time marches on, and yet progress eludes them. I hope your next experience proves more satisfying!
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Hello to everyone.
When I was in hospital, in 2017 I began to ask questions of my medical staff. What I learned is this…
Unless they are going into some type of specialty work which deals directly with disability they get a six-week rotation on a ward where disabled persons are and no more. It is not taught in the medical schools nursing schools, etc.
To make a real difference one needs to begin by reaching out to the medical schools and teaching facilities nearest your area. If able, ask to give a public talk. Ask to be included in training conferences, Etc.
Be warned, it is hard getting through those doors. I live just 30 minutes-drive from the Quillen College of medicine. Can provide my own transport and materials yet all this time has passed and still my queries are being ignored.
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