I went for an MRI late this afternoon. This was not one of those “I don’t have anything better to do, maybe I’ll go in for an unpleasant medical experience” things. Having gone to my back doctor for more than a year, I think he realized I was not just going to go away and so he ordered one to have a little look see at what is actually going on inside my back. Why am I whining all the time, in other words.
Sweet pancakes of mine, I had always heard how LOUD an MRI is, but was unprepared for the reality of it. It is stick your head in a jet engine loud. I am of the generation that shared in the hearing damage of serious rock shows and none of them were this loud. And that was with earplugs and these sound deadening blocks on my ears. “Sound deadening.” It is to laugh.
They shoved me into a tiny tube after repeatedly asking if I was claustrophobic. How I wish I said yes, maybe they would have given me drugs. mrpeenee’s new Rule Number 1: Always demand drugs when in a hospital. Even if you’re just visiting some patient. Then the racket cranked up.
I remembered reading about some christian who chanted “Christ’s mercy” as he was being martyred (and these pagan guys in charge of martyring were terribly inventive. Saints are depicted usually with some reference to how they met their grisly fate; Saint Lucy with her eyeballs on a plate, Saint Agatha with her titties on another plate, Saint Lawrence, who was grilled and toasted alive, is shown holding a griddle, which usually looks sort of like a waffle maker. In the Sistine Chapel, Jesus is getting up from his chair and turning away from all the damned with this air of “I am through with you. Later bitches.” and all the saints form a sort of scrimmage line between him and the out of luck souls trying to scramble out of hell. But Lucy, Agatha and Lawrence, ready to tackle them and still holding those damn plates and griddle, give it the air of very odd buffet. Christians. So weird.)
Anyway, I tried mentally chanting “Christ’s mercy”, but it didn’t seem to do much, possibly because I am a heathen, so I switched it up to “RuPaul’s mercy, RuPaul’s mercy.” That didn’t do much either. I just gave up and started hoping I would begin hallucinating soon.
They finally dragged me out. The tech cheerfully said “Well, that was a long one, but we got some great pictures!” I was literally staggering and limping from being cramped and not moving for 45 minutes, but it was after 6:00, these guys were ready to get out of work, so they kept announcing that I just had to go through the double doors. They had the air of a bartender shoving the last drunks out the room.
I didn’t care. I was so glad it was over, I would have crawled out if I’d had to. So now I’m home eating Oxycodone and ice cream in about equal measure. But we got some great pictures! Maybe I’ll get some wallet size ones.

Or maybe I would prefer these back pictures

Definitely. Better than my back.
It’s b e h i n d you. Praise god.
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A good point, praise somebody.
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I hope they got your good side.
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I have no good side.
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“Old age ain’t no place for sissies.” ― Bette Davis.
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God knows that’s true. I’m just tired of having it proven to me repeatedly.
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“But we got some great pictures!”
New blog header!
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She was genuinely cheery about it. On the other hand, if she had admitted to some concerns about their quality, I’m pretty sure I would have punched her.
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You wouldn’t happen to have any frontsies shots of that second specimen, would you?
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I only wish. He came to me on some random Tumblr site. Stunning boys, one and all, but just singles of each.
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He looks like he could be a piece of furniture – a smooth, deeply polished mahogany something-or-other. Perhaps something akin to an umbrella stand…?
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Something you stick rods and poles in?
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From now on, do what I do and schedule all your medical appointments for first thing in the morning. Medical staff’s alertness and skills go downhill after lunch. And never on a Friday.
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Sweetie, believe me, all that you said was crystal clear with these guys, but 5:30 on Friday was the only opening they had. It’s been San Francisco, desirable reservations are never available for mere mortals. I dropped your name as a friend of mine repeatedly, and they still weren’t impressed.
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I think, on the whole, I would have preferred sticking my head in a speaker at a Motorhead concert. Jx
PS Lovely smiles, those boys.
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Smiles? Oh yes, I suppose they are smiling, aren’t they? I hadn’t noticed before
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I have never had one yet, or been shoved in a tube. I have however been shoved ON a tube. Always a pleasant activity. If I do ever go in one though, i would definelty like to listen to RuPauls debut album. Always makes me happy.
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LISTEN? Sweetie, you’re lucky to be dragged out of that bitch without permanent hearing damage.
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I’m still reeling from the fact that you didn’t latch on to the claustrophobia crutch. Honey, you are slipping.
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Oh, all they would have slipped me would have been a Valium. I could supply them with those.
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