MRI test, or God's test?

Stefanie tells me that pain medication makes me short tempered. If I'm not mistaken, she's told me the same thing about my pain; that it makes me short tempered. So when she told me I was being short at the MRI office, I wasn't sure which to blame it on, but then again, I really did know. Ir wasn't pain or medication, it was stupidity. No, not Stefanie, or this would be my last post if I even thought that. Here's how it went:

I've done this test so often, I already know what to wear. Stefanie drove me to the office, which is a good idea considering the amount of my current medication level. I hobbled into the office, cane in hand and slowly made my way to the desk. We entered a huge office which was entirely empty. There was a woman behind the desk, which also rather large but empty, who seemed to be there just waiting for me to walk in. "How can I help you?" she asked. I gave her my name and said I had an appointment. "Have a seat and they'll call you soon" says she.

Stefanie and I headed for the large, empty waiting room and notice that the three leather couches were rather low. If I had sat down on one of them, we would have needed a Hoyer lift (crane for humans) to get me back up. I eyed one of three straight back chairs and decided to head for a safe haven to one of them. I gingerly eased myself into the seat and within fifteen seconds, the once nice lady yells out, "OK, Mr. Connolly. You can come over here for some papers and I need your medical card and a photo ID.". In, what I felt was my normal New York response mode, I yelled back, "Oh yeah, well come on over and get them!" Stefanie was up on her feet as if she had been shot out of a cannon. "I'll get them" she says. As she leans over me for my wallet, she says, "You know, you're cranky on those meds." Personally, I thought I was totally within my rights. I mean, who sends an old, lame and in pain man to sit down and then call them back like that? After we take care of business, Stefanie hands in the papers and the woman says, "OK, here are some more to fill out." Now, I'm like, "Are you playing with the cripple?" I didn't say it though, Stefanie would have really put the hurt on me, and she was my ride.

So, a short time later the tech comes out and calls me to follow her back to the machine. I must give credit when due, this woman was very good. After leaving my carry-all vest and glasses behind, I followed her into the room. Now I've had many MRI's for years now, and I must say this one was a first. It honestly reminded me of a machine from a 1940's Superman cartoon. It had two big biscuit looking metal things, one over the other, held up by two large metal walls on either end. The difference in looks aside, then came the familiar part. "You're here for your back? (No wait for reply.) OK, there's a really hard thing that I placed here on an even harder table that moves for me, but not enough to help you. Please lie on your back with your head going that way (as she give me the thumbs out to the right like she was teaching me how to hail a cab.)" All the medical advancement into the twenty-first century, and medicine still relies on making sure you're in pain. I shift my now overweight self onto the hard thing that's on a hard table and in spastic movements get into place. I hand over my cane, and she puts a wedge under my legs. Now I gotta tell you, this was the best wedge thingy I've ever been allowed to use. I've had old pillows rolled so tight, the feathers were popping through and pricking me in the back of my legs. This one was top notch and comfortable. Once the first hard thing was fastened around my middle, like some bullet proof girdle, we were ready. Even with the 1940's look, I was still slid into the machine so my nose was inches from the upper metal biscuit.

Once you're in there, there's not a whole lot to do but think. I used to fall asleep, but got in trouble for moving and snoring. I started to think about the lady out front, and as will happen, the Lord chimed in, "While I have you here, let's think about how you treated that woman." My first response was to defend myself, saying something along the lines of, "But You know I how much I hate stupid people." Silence. I'm not crazy about the silence. Then it dawns on me, I'm speaking to the Creator of the Universe and the Heavens. To Him, Mensa looks like a group of toddlers that can finger paint nice. "OK, I'll buy that, but I'm in pain." Again with the silence. I'm beginning to see where my mother learned this maneuver. How do I know if she isn't suffering? Sure it may not be physical pain, but what about a husband at home who has his won issues? Maybe she has a child in need, or never could have any children. Worse case, maybe she doesn't know my Lord. As I laid there, the pain increasing and the tech inserting a needle for the contrast medium, I was beginning to see what I see at different times during my journey in pain. I'm not alone in my suffering, but I have the best support available.

For those who know us, I obviously have a wife that I could not have dreamed up before I had met her. I've got a fifteen year old that still comes up to my room after school, jumps on the bed and fills me in on all the goings on in her life. My youngest, my Minnie, can't slow down enough to get on the bed, but she'll dance around and make sure I know who's doing what and what's new in her life. My folks are alive and live close by, as do both of my aunts, and I speak to one of my parents daily. I even speak to my mother-in-law daily, which once would have seemed more than odd, but now is a really great relationship One brother in town and another in Dallas, and we're still in touch and share our life and dreams. There are friends and a church community that won't let me wallow in solitude, even if I would like to at times. I even have friends on the internet who are as close to me as any friend could be. The net has also allowed me to connect to old friends, wherever they are scattered. Beyond all of this, though, is my One, True support. I have learned over the last five years of this journey that the Great Physician has treatments for everything that ails us, but he is most concerned with our soul first and foremost, then our bodies.

So I finished the test,and my pain was certainly higher than it was when I entered. Walking was a true challenge, even with my cane. The car ride home couldn't be quick enough, even with Stefanie driving. However, I came out of it better than when I went in. As my Lord lives, He has a way of calming my soul, no matter the ravage of my body. He forces me, though gently, to see the suffering of others while I'm in pain. This is why I suffer, this is also why I am grateful for this injury. One of my favorite authors is correct, CS Lewis said basically that the Lord screams to us in our pain. I'm a thick Irishman, I need to be screamed at! Blessings to all who have read this tale, kudos for just getting to the end!