Actually, the text message I sent to my sister on Saturday morning was "I stoned and bt nyself". I was stoned. I don't even remember sending the message. I don't remember my son helping me to the car. Or sleeping for 2 hours. What I do remember is exactly what I wasn't supposed to remember by getting stoned. This:
I had an MRI for my bad back on Saturday. When you have an MRI on your back your WHOLE HEAD has to be COMPLETELY INSIDE the MRI machine. Think coffin. I certainly did. So because of my little claustrophobia thing I got me some drugs to take the edge off. A little "mild" sedation to get me through it.
Trouble was I wasn't supposed to take the drugs until I got to the hospital and they told me to. Trouble with that was they were ahead of schedule (when does that ever happen?!) and I was whisked right into the room and told to gulp it down while I was changing into my gown. Trouble with that was it only took me about 3 minutes to change. Not nearly enough time to let the drugs kick in.
So I warned the technician of my fears but she was antsy and wanted to give it a go. She blindfolded me, secured my head in place and started to ease me back. I took some deep breaths. Suddenly I could sense the darkness enveloping me and my usually rational and brave self vanished and was replaced by a raving lunatic yelling "Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! I don't think I can do this! Get me out!". Only to rip the blindfold off and find I had not even entered the machine yet. Blush, nervous laugh, rambling apologies and excuses. The tech left the room telling me she would give me a few minutes to let the drugs kick in (the bottle had said 1 hour and I knew she wasn't going to give me that).
I was so mad at myself. I could see right through the machine. I knew my legs would be outside of it and that air was circulating through it. I knew I could shimmy myself out if necessary. But all of this went out the window the minute she started it up again.
Finally, I knew I had to suck it up so when she returned after a whole 5 minutes I took some deep breaths, lay down and started to hyperventilate. This, however, may have helped as I was feeling faint and focusing on not passing out so I didn't feel the walls close in around me. Then, I was in. I had to keep pushing the thought out of my head along with the image of me flailing around wildly trying to escape. Instead I tried some relaxation exercises my mom had told me about "start with your feet and slowly move your way up your body". Of course I couldn't actually move but the distraction got me over the hump.
When it was finally over the drugs were starting to take affect. I stumbled off the table and managed, somehow, to get dressed. I have very little recollection of the next few hours only to hear later that I had somewhere purchased a dozen Timbits and fallen asleep on the bench outside the hospital waiting for my hubby to pick me up. Plus, I had a half-hour long conversation with my sister that I have zero memory of. So at least we know the drugs work.
Oh, and I'll be trying out the whole stoner thing again on Wednesday when I go for my very first…wait for it…colonoscopy! Thanks to my dad's bout with colon cancer in his 30's my sisters and I all have to experience this thrill. More to come.