I thought I’d had an MRI before, about 10 years ago, the last time I started having migraines. It must have been some other type big expensive machine, because in that one, all I had to do is have my head inserted into it.
So that’s what I expected this morning.
No. No no no. This one, they strapped me down tight, put a plastic cage over my head, and tried to stuff me into a little hole that I didn’t quite fit into.
The moment my arms were pinned solidly against my body, my lungs stopped working, and some animal part of my brain pushed THE BIG RED PANIC BUTTON labeled:
I totally lost it. Totally and completely. They couldn’t get me out of there fast enough, apologizing, telling me it was okay, that it happened at least once a day to patients.
I think my waves of terror upset the entire office — everyone looked shook up. Me, I was in shock. I had not realized … I mean, I knew I had claustrophobia but not to this extent. I was upset for an hour, trembling, mad at myself, embarrassed, shamed.
The thing that went through my mind, though, during the 45 seconds or so I was actually inside the machine, was very odd and disturbing. It was a vivid memory of being inside a old time airplane cockpit, strapped in and trapped, as it sank into the ocean. I remember the goggles on my face, the gloves on my hands, the stick and instruments in front of me, the leather sleeves of my flying jacket. Mainly I remember the light fading as the plane sank and the water filled the cockpit.
Does anyone here believe in past lives? Did I just experience how I’d died my last time around?
The whole experience has left me feeling physically ill.