WOMP! WOMP! WOMP! – My machine turns on & even though I’m wearing industrial grade ear protection, there is nothing that can take the sound of that machine away from my ears. I open my eyes and suddenly I feel my body gravitating inside towards the machine. I meditate but am quickly interrupted by instructions that are meant to seem calm and informative, but I feel like I’m being yelled at.
I scream for a nurse, I need to get out NOW.
Too late. I was too late? No. They should have listened.
I hate these machines. As if I wasn’t humbled enough, I had to have an accident inside of an MRI machine. I’m angry with them. I feel like no one listens when I need them to the most.
“We didn’t get enough image before you ran to the bathroom and the barium isn’t active anymore, we need you to drink more.”
Cry. Breathe in. Swallow. Swallow 2 more cups. Vomit. Swallow two more.
Breathe. Go back inside the machine that looks like it will turn me into honey, I shrunk the Crohn’s patient.
Fix me. I’m broken.