On Dirty Whores and Donut Holes

Yesterday I was sent to have an MRI on my back.  I’m not the kind of person who gets nervous about tests, and I’m not claustrophobic.  I don’t like ladders and I’m not fond of needles, but neither of those was going to be involved so I pretty much thought I was golden.

Until I got in there, that is.

The first thing I had to do was change.  A technician assistant type person took me back to a changing room.  I’m not sure what her exact job title was so we’ll just call her Dirty, Dirty Whore because she held up a pair of scrub bottoms in front of me and said that she didn’t think they would fit, but if they did I could wear them and my shirt for the test.  If they didn’t I’d have to wear a gown.

Excuse me? You don’t think they’ll fit?

Then why give them to me?

There was no reason to give them to me because they clearly would not have fit, except to make me feel bad about my fattitude.  But I showed her – now the whole internet knows she’s a dirty, dirty whore so who’s laughing now, bitch?

Since I don’t dwell on feeling bad about my fattitude that much, I just put on the gown and went to wait my turn.  The MRI technician took me back to a room with a giant donut and a sled.  Well, the donut was giant, but the hole in the middle most definitely was not.

Let me reiterate – I am not claustrophobic.  I am, however, stuck-o-phobic.  After I lay down on the sled and the tech put the pillows under my legs and the earplugs in my ears (lets not even get into how weird it feels to have someone else put in earplugs for you) he started to slide it forward.

Now a long time ago there was a medical TV show and one of the storylines for an episode was two people getting caught having sex in the MRI machine.  They got stuck in there because the guy had a heart attack and pinned the woman down so that she couldn’t get out.  In the back of my head I had the idea that if two people could have sex in one of those, it can’t possibly be that small, right?  Because I had heard stories about how close it was in there and how people freaked out and I always just thought they were pussies.  *ahem* Yeah, I just said pussies.

As he started to slide that sled forward all I could think was there is no fucking way two people did the bowchickaboomboom in here! and holy shit, what if my fat ass gets stuck? It seemed like I could touch the top of the donut hole with my tongue if I stuck it out, that’s how small it was.  Not that I go around licking medical equipment because that would be gross, let me just clarity that. I’m drawing a mental picture here for you people and if it means I could theoretically lick the inside of the MRI donut hole, I’m willing to do that for you.  Because I like you that much.

Let me tell you, though, nothing illustrates to you your size and the amount of space you take up on the planet like being shoved into a donut hole on a sled.

But I didn’t get stuck.  Once I was in there, it was fine.  It took about a half hour to get all the images, and at some point I fell asleep.  The guy kept talking to me over the intercom, telling me how much longer this would take, and I just wanted him to shut the hell up so I could get my snooze on.  Just as I was drifting along it was all over and he was pulling me out.

So I learned a few things yesterday:

1. Dirty, Dirty Whore
2. I’m still not claustrophobic.
3. And stuck-o-phobic is a valid fear when it involves big asses being shoved into tiny holes in giant donuts.  I’m just sayin’.