Finally we meet: my first MRI

It took 11 days from my appointment with Dr. S, the ENT, to finally get my first MRI.  I wish I could say getting my first MRI was exciting or emotional or something intriguing.  For me, it was rather uneventful. And by now, I have had three MRI's and they all went about the same:

• Undress in the changing cubicle
• Put dressing gown on with opening at the back
• Put valuables in a locker
• Check no earrings are in
• Go into room when called
• Put key on cabinet
• Earplugs in 
• Lay down on machine
• (this is important) Be sure to bolster knees up.  (Last time I didn't and my back was killing me half way through!!)
• They put that cage around your head
• Close eyes as they slide you into the machine

So you do not have to close your eyes for the MRI.  I just do that because I am a little bit claustrophobic.  It has never been debilitating, but why try to freak myself out?  I have peaked while in there and, well, either I stare at that cage thing around my head or at the white tunnel I am in.  So, I mostly just close my eyes, hold my head still and attempt to sleep.  Thus far I have not been able to fall asleep.

The machine is very loud.  They run a number of scans and each one seems to have a different pattern of sounds, all loud, hence the ear plugs.  The person in the booth does talk to you some, telling you how long each scan will take.  I have not figure out if they expect a response or not.  Am I supposed to talk?  can the hear me?  or maybe give a thumbs up?  I do have ear plugs in and I've lost the hearing in my right ear, so really it's quite silly to try to talk to me.  

Once the scan is over, the anxiety is still there.  When will it be read? When will they tell me the result?  This first scan of course I was very anxious and did not know how long I would have to wait.  Dr. W had said she would be able to get the results of the scan the day I had it.  However, I had to wait a whole day before I found out.  

The scan took place on Tuesday November 22, 2011.  All day I had been waiting to hear and when I finally received a call from my doctor, I missed it.  I called back and left a message but was unable to reach him.  

We had plans in San Francisco on Wednesday night to meet up with family for a big pre-Thanksgiving dinner.  I remember we were in the restaurant, just settling in when my phone rang.  It was the general number for PAMF, so it was one of my doctors calling.  Dr. S had called to tell me that they read my results and that I do have an acoustic neuroma.  There are three treatment options, watch and wait, radiation or surgery.  He would refer me to a colleague at Stanford that specializes in this area.

So again, I did not have high emotion here.  I was not overcome with grief or depression.  I also was not completely dumbfounded and lost.  It was so matter of fact and, well, that explains the hearing loss.  I now have confirmation.  So now what?  It seemed like every step of the way thus far just opened more questions and uncertainty instead of coming to an answer or conclusion.  

My doctor, Dr. W, bless her heart also called that evening to check in with me.  I will have to dedicate a post about her for sure.  So her call, knowing she cared enough to review my results and check in with me gave me such comfort.  It made me feel like she is *my* doctor that cares what is happening to me and is going to watch out for me.  Even though this is not her specialty, I have someone I can talk to that will listen and help me however she can.  

 

MRI with and without contrast: Intracanalicular enhancing mass compatible with an intracanalicular acoustic neuroma, measuring 8.3 x 4.5 x 6.1 mm