the little old lady who walked into the West Columbia Location of the South Carolina Diagnostic Imaging clinic late yesterday afternoon to have two MRIs performed?
(Masks were provided, social distancing observed by all patients and personnel in the facility – thankfully.)
The little old lady asked if she could take a pain pill before they started. Much younger technician Tammy replied of course and provided her with water while at the same time also offering her two bright yellow ear plugs. It gets a little loud in there, Tammy said. Would you like headphones with music, too?
Oh yes, said the little old lady. Definitely. Can you have them play ABBA music?
How do you spell ABBA, asked Tammy.
Then we got down to business on my right bionic knee when Tammy rolled me into the MRI tube as the machine began making noises like roofers who are hammering nails in the final sections of replacing a roof. Bam, Bam, wham, bam…louder in staccato…and then in loud warning signals reminiscent of sirens in WWII announcing the bombs are coming, the bombs are coming. But did I care?
Not really because the pain pill apparently kept Abba always singing in the back of those headphones: lots of my favorites like Take a Chance on Me, Super Trooper, Dancing Queen, Fernando and finally when I thought I would go mad from the hammering noises, Mama Mia (the fav of my grandbaby) sang me out of the first procedure. I pictured the little 8 month old baby loving to bounce up and down in her playpen to Mama Mia. And then I was rolled back out of the tube – thinking ABBA might not have been the best choice for remaining totally motionless during the procedure. I had been tempted to groove just a little, but NO WAY.
After a quick bathroom break, I was back on the table being slid down once again into the tube with its deafening blows to take pictures of my lower lumbar. Tammy remained most professional as she adjusted the headphones for my music. This disc jockey wasn’t a hard core ABBA fan so s/he threw in other fan favorites from the era like Neil Diamond’s Sweet Caroline, the House of the Rising Sun by James Taylor, Carole King I Feel the Earth Move which I did, by the way, when Tammy slid me out of the tiny tube which I felt getting tinier the second go round. For some reason the lumbar didn’t seem to take as long.
Maybe it’s because time had stood still during the 1 and one half hour procedure. Tammy helped me slowly sit up.
While I gathered myself to stand, Technician Tammy said, “I’ve burned you a CD – it should be ready about now.”
To which I replied, “Oh, you burned me a CD? Thank you so very much – that’s really sweet. I hadn’t heard some of those songs in years.”
To which Tammy said in a somewhat subdued tone, “The CD is for your doctor. It’s your images.”
To which I replied, “Oh, well of course.”
Pretty was waiting for me in the car, and when I told her about the CD, she laughed uproariously as only she can do when something is really funny – we both laughed all the way across town to pick up her Wednesday night pasta at her favorite Mediterranen Tea Room. We were still laughing last night when I passed out at 9 o’clock from exhaustion.
Stay safe, stay sane and please stay tuned.
I'll Call It Like I See It 
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