The planets aligned, and the “powers that be” finally decided to schedule my MRI. They called late Friday afternoon and set me up to go into the tube of horrors at 9 a.m., Monday. I am no stranger to this loud clanking picture-taking tube. I’ve had more than 30 of these scans in my life, most of which were done in my teens.
Brain scans take forever. I’m not sure if it’s because mine is hard to find or if it’s just that way it is. I was a real trooper for the first 20 minutes; after that, I wanted to scratch and claw my way out of the blasted monstrosity. Either the MRI is smaller than it was t...
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