"You were having that good sleep"

Today was a little bit crazy. 

I got up at 4 AM and got ready for Ron's exams.  I got him up and dressed, made sure he was wearing his sandals, etc.  He got in the wheelchair and off we went to the hospital. 

It was very nice and they had complimentary drinks and fruit salad, for those interested.  They even had a fruit-infused water (it had melons, cucumber, mint, and citrus - I had a glass and it was interesting, but I didn't have another). 

Ron and I filled out some paperwork and paid the copay.  They had us wait for a while.  After about a half hour, they took us back to ultrasound.  It was a little after 8 AM.  She had him take off his shorts (glad he had clean underwear) and lie down on the bed. 

I've seen Ron get leg vein ultrasounds before, twice.  It was pretty much the same thing this time.  At one point he told her "That's what has been bothering me, right there" as she pressed the wand against his foot.  Good, maybe there is something relevant that can be fixed. 

I chatted with the tech about testicular ultrasounds and she told me she used to practice on her husband, when she was just starting out. 

Ron fell asleep during the second leg and began snoring loudly.  We had a quiet giggle over that.  Suddenly someone banged on the door.  It was the office manager.  "Your 7:30 is here and wants to know when you will be finished". 

"He's late" the tech told me after the manager left.  "He can keep waiting.  I'm going to do this right."  I appreciated the sentiment. 

I was disappointed the manager woke Ron up.  "You were having that good sleep" the tech told him.  "The kind you only get in the morning".

I got Ron dressed, put him in the wheelchair, and we rolled out into the hall, where we were appropriated by the radiologist.  He asked some questions, and had some questions, about Ron's clot filter.  He said he would have to do some research before he could proceed. 

We said that was fine with us and waited while he made sure it was OK to MRI a clot filter (Ron's still alive, so I guess).  I asked God to give Doc the right answers. 

Doc came and got us, and took us into the room.  Ron had to walk a little to get to the platform.  The wheelchair, being metal, couldn't get too close to the machine.  Doc had me empty out my pockets and said I would be staying with him, right? 

I thought it would be like a CAT scan, but I had drunk a lot of diet soda and was having some anxiety.  I wasn't too sure, but Doc said it was no big deal and left. 

I didn't know they would lock the door. 

At first, it was OK.  Just some loud humming and banging.  But the banging was erratic and I kept jumping.  Ron was fine.  I kept waiting for one of his implanted devices to rip out of his body but nothing happened.  He just lay there.  All I could see were his lower legs and feet.  BANG!  AH!  Oh, it's the machine. 

HUMMMMMMMMMM BANG BANG BANG BANG HUMBANGHUMMMMMBANG UGH. 

All of a sudden, Ron goes "What about our wedding rings?" 

"THEY'RE TITANIUM" I yelled at him.  "SHOULD BE FINE"

Then I thought.  Ron's ring was titanium.  Mine was tungsten.  Would tungsten be a problem?  Maybe I should put my ring in the pocket on the back of the wheelchair.  That's when I got up and tried to open the door, only to discover I was locked in. 

Great, I am trapped in a room with the machine from hell making all kinds of noise designed to freak out a person with PTSD, which I have.  I would have hated to see my blood pressure, and I wasn't even in the machine. 

It seemed like 2 hours, but was probably closer to 25 minutes.  Finally, Doc came in and let Ron go.  I couldn't wait to get out of there and I wasn't even in the machine. 

Please God, don't ever let me need an MRI.  Or rather, let me be drugged if I am.  Or unconscious.  Although the noise would probably wake me from a coma. 

[shudder]  That was the worst part of my day. 

We came home after that and I took a nap.  Surprisingly, I could sleep.  I slept for a little bit with Torbie.  When I got up, Biscuit, who'd been on the floor, tried to get into bed with us.  Torbie smacked him across the head and hissed at him. 

Torbie is very sweet with her humans, but she's a bitch to other cats! 

I got up and we went to Walmart.  This was Ron's way of apologizing to me for such a short trip yesterday.  He overslept his alarm and I had to wake him up. 

It must have been the effects of that leg ultrasound!  He was having a good time!  I hated to wake him. 

We went to Walmart.  I didn't need much, I mainly wanted some aspirin and food.  I got that.  I didn't get any cat food because I just bought a case yesterday. 

The store was full of screaming toddlers and kids yelling in Spanish.  It didn't even faze me, not after the adventure in the MRI room.  I got what I wanted, and some takeout for Ron.  He wanted fried rice and chicken strips.  OK, I can do that. 

I don't fix him dinner most nights, mainly because he prefers takeout and TV dinners to my cooking.  I'm not a bad cook - I had customers lining up 2 hours in advance to buy my rotisserie chicken with homemade gravy, but he just prefers the absolute consistency of a premade meal. 

I'd say it's a head injury thing but he was like that, before.  If I do cook he nearly always makes yum, yum noises and praises it to the skies, but he just prefers takeout.  OK. 

He had me check his sugars a few times the last day or so.  Everytime, it has been a little high.  Doc may want to put Ron on some Metformin or another blood sugar drug. 

We just have to wait on all the results to come in - then I suppose Doc will call us to make an appointment.  Or we make the appointment ourselves. 

It shouldn't take too long to write the MRI report.