St. Louis and an MRI

We went to St. Louis yesterday for my semiannual appointment with my neurologist. She is great and I trust her implicitly, but I think she feels bad because there is really nothing she can do to help me. She was very happy that I had not progressed (deteriorated) since my last visit. After the appointment, I was taken for a clinical trial that involved an MRI and cognitive testing.

Magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) is nothing new to me. I have had so many that I have lost count. During an MRI you are laid down on a table, your head is fastened in place by a kind of helmet, and you are pushed into a long tube. The machine emits loud noises which are sometimes drowned out by whatever music you are listening to on the headphones (yesterday my choice was classic rock eg oldies). After anywhere from 20 minutes to three hours, you are pulled out and sent on your way. The images are magnetic in nature and can spot problems in your brain and spine, kind of like x-rays.

You would think that after so many MRIs I would be an expert; however, I guess I'm not medical enough, because this is about the extent of my knowledge. Some people are freaked out by MRIs because they're claustrophobic and have to be given sedatives. This is not my case and I see them as an opportunity to relax and even sleep. The high point of getting an MRI has to be when, just before you are pushed unto the tube, you are offered a warm blanket by the friendly technician. Boy, does that feel good!

The MRI wan't bad (see above) but the cognitive testing sucked. Somehow I have managed to escape this very annoying procedure thus far, but yesterday I was subjected to the tests, the worst of which involved remembering and adding numbers that a recorded male voice rattled off at an alarming speed (doubtless HE was reading a script).

After that ordeal we treated ourselves to lunch and shopping at that mecca called the Galleria. A decadent chocolate and banana drink from Godiva topped off a long day.