Meditating My Way Through an MRI

image from glowellness.wordpress.com

A couple nights ago I received an MRI of my right wrist. I would be lying if I said I'd been dreading it, since in fact I get somewhat excited at the prospect of medical interventions, especially non-intrusive ones. And indeed it was totally fine, particularly since I didn't have to get an injection beforehand. (Needles are not really my strong point. No pun intended.)

Anyway, the technician was very nice and must have warned me about fifteen times that the machine would be noisy and that I would have to remain very still. Neither of those aspects turned out particularly problematic.

The thing is, when you find yourself in that machine with its noise completely engulfing you, there's something almost euphoric about it. You can almost sense yourself merging with the sound altogether, and in fact there are magnetic waves passing through you at every moment. Dare I say the experience is almost...spiritual?

Fleeting, inchoate thoughts of gratitude floated through my mind: namely, that I was lucky to live in an age so advanced that this monstrous, blustering device could, in the span of twenty minutes, provide an accurate, pain-free, and harmless assessment of the inner workings of my wrist.

I tried not to let the noise or the rush of thoughts overcome me, and envisioned my mind as an open, empty space.

 Less than twenty-four hours later, my doctor called. There was nothing terribly wrong with my wrist, he said, but a small dorsal ganglion (cyst) that I'll probably need to be treated for. Incidentally, it's common in young women. Go figure! I'll let you know how meditating during the aspiration goes.