“Do you have Dark Side of the Moon?”
So, a strange thing happened to me in the shower yesterday. I was just getting ready for the day, like I do pretty much every day, when I suddenly experienced numbness and tingling in my left leg, my left arm, and the left side of my face. It was disconcerting, to say the least, but there was little I could do but finish my shower. Within about three minutes, the sensations had subsided and I felt like normal again.
Still, this was unusual enough to leave me a little worried, so I called the “Ask a Nurse” number at the local hospital (what else would be available on a Sunday morning?) and talked to someone named Stacy. She asked me a number of questions about the incident and about my medical history, then strongly recommended that I go to the emergency room to be examined. Which is pretty much what I had decided I needed to do anyway, but it was nice to hear that I wasn’t a hypochondriac or anything.
So, I woke up Nancy--not something I generally do, if I can help it--and explained the situation to her. She called her Mom and made arrangements for her to watch the kiddos, and before too long we were out the door. We dropped Sophia and Sam off at Grandma’s house (Thanks, Grandma!), and we made our way to the ER.
There was no line at the ER admittance desk--something that I’ve literally never seen before--so I was quickly seated, questioned, and examined. Less than ten minutes later, we were in a room. The nurse came in just a few minutes later and hooked me up to the monitors while asking about why I was there. She conducted a few short tests to make sure my right and left sides were symmetrically strong. Shortly after that, the doctor came in and I explained to him what had happened. (Between Nancy and all the medical personnel, this was about the fifth time, so I was getting really good at it.) He did some of the same strength tests, and then said he thought it sounded like I’d had a transitory ischemic attack (TIA, or mini-stroke) and wanted to run some more precise tests to clarify.
First, a nice lady came in and stuck electrode connections all over me so they could run an EKG. Then the nurse (who, coincidentally, had the same name as a girl I dated in college) came in to take a blood sample. I hate needles, but I got through it. Then they came in and told us that they wanted to get me a CT scan and an MRI. I’d never experienced either of those before, so from a strictly scientific point of view, I was curious.
They conducted the CT scan almost immediately. A tech came and got me and wheeled me to the imaging area. I was lying almost flat on the bed, so it felt a little like I was on a luge run. I commented on this, and he didn’t seem as amused by the idea as I was. He probably gets weird comments all the time. Anyway, he got me to the room where the scanner was located. They laid me inside the donut and took a reference scan, then told me they were going to inject me with a contrasting agent that would make me feel really warm for a few seconds. It did, but I didn’t feel the “wetting myself” sensation they had also warned me about. It was really interesting. Through dark red plastic on the inside of the donut, I could see the emitter spinning around at about one revolution per second, bouncing X-rays off the iodine atoms I’d been injected with. It was actually kind of cool, in the nerdiest way possible.
Results from the CT scan were quick in coming; the doctor said they looked good. He then told me that the MRI wouldn’t be so lickety-split (his actual words). I rested for an unspecified period of time while Nancy watched over me. She really was fantastic during the whole experience. I know that’s not what she wanted to do with her Sunday, and it had to have been disconcerting, but she never complained. She really is the best.
At length, they came to take me to the MRI. No luge jokes this time, as I was seated more or less upright now. When I got there the tech explained to me how the whole process was going to work and handed me a pair of earplugs. He then had me lie down on the narrow, poorly-padded slab and locked my head into place with something like an oversized helmet. From there, I slid up to my chest into the central tube. I’ve never had claustrophobia, so the fact that the tube left less than a foot of space over my face wasn’t didn’t particularly bug me. He ran a quick mike check to make sure we could hear each other, then began the scan.
When they tell you that you’ll need earplugs, they’re not messing around! What followed was several minutes of loud clanks, thuds, buzzes, and other assorted noises. When the noises stopped, he asked me how I was doing. I told him I was fine, and he told me the initial images looked good. He told me there was one more round that would last about ten minutes and asked if I was ready. I told him I was, and the noises began again. As I lay there with literally nothing to do but listen, my mind started picking out patterns in the sounds. With my eyes closed, I started visualizing different images and patterns to go along with the noises. It was kind of trippy, like a laser show at the planetarium. When it was over, he took me out and asked how I was doing. I told him I was fine, and that if there had been another round, I was going to ask if he had “Dark Side of the Moon”. He laughed. I guess you had to be there.
We waited about half an hour for the results, during which time my High Priest group leader and his first assistant came to give me a Priesthood blessing. I don’t remember exactly what was said, but I do remember being promised that the people working with me would be guided in what they did and that I would be okay. Less that two minutes after the blessing--while they were still in the room, in fact--the doctor came in and told me that the MRI results had come back clean. The transient ischemic attack I had experienced had been minor and had done no permanent damage. He recommended that I begin an aspirin regimen and referred me to a stroke clinic for a follow up visit. He sent the nurse in to take one final set of vitals, and then I was discharged.
I stayed home from school today at Nancy’s insistence (the doctor also suggested it, by the way). I’ve had a chance to get some rest, and I’m feeling a lot better. All things considered, I feel quite blessed that things turned out as benign as they did. Long story short (Too late!), I’m okay.
Anyway, that was my Sunday. How was yours?
Still, this was unusual enough to leave me a little worried, so I called the “Ask a Nurse” number at the local hospital (what else would be available on a Sunday morning?) and talked to someone named Stacy. She asked me a number of questions about the incident and about my medical history, then strongly recommended that I go to the emergency room to be examined. Which is pretty much what I had decided I needed to do anyway, but it was nice to hear that I wasn’t a hypochondriac or anything.
So, I woke up Nancy--not something I generally do, if I can help it--and explained the situation to her. She called her Mom and made arrangements for her to watch the kiddos, and before too long we were out the door. We dropped Sophia and Sam off at Grandma’s house (Thanks, Grandma!), and we made our way to the ER.
There was no line at the ER admittance desk--something that I’ve literally never seen before--so I was quickly seated, questioned, and examined. Less than ten minutes later, we were in a room. The nurse came in just a few minutes later and hooked me up to the monitors while asking about why I was there. She conducted a few short tests to make sure my right and left sides were symmetrically strong. Shortly after that, the doctor came in and I explained to him what had happened. (Between Nancy and all the medical personnel, this was about the fifth time, so I was getting really good at it.) He did some of the same strength tests, and then said he thought it sounded like I’d had a transitory ischemic attack (TIA, or mini-stroke) and wanted to run some more precise tests to clarify.
First, a nice lady came in and stuck electrode connections all over me so they could run an EKG. Then the nurse (who, coincidentally, had the same name as a girl I dated in college) came in to take a blood sample. I hate needles, but I got through it. Then they came in and told us that they wanted to get me a CT scan and an MRI. I’d never experienced either of those before, so from a strictly scientific point of view, I was curious.
They conducted the CT scan almost immediately. A tech came and got me and wheeled me to the imaging area. I was lying almost flat on the bed, so it felt a little like I was on a luge run. I commented on this, and he didn’t seem as amused by the idea as I was. He probably gets weird comments all the time. Anyway, he got me to the room where the scanner was located. They laid me inside the donut and took a reference scan, then told me they were going to inject me with a contrasting agent that would make me feel really warm for a few seconds. It did, but I didn’t feel the “wetting myself” sensation they had also warned me about. It was really interesting. Through dark red plastic on the inside of the donut, I could see the emitter spinning around at about one revolution per second, bouncing X-rays off the iodine atoms I’d been injected with. It was actually kind of cool, in the nerdiest way possible.
Results from the CT scan were quick in coming; the doctor said they looked good. He then told me that the MRI wouldn’t be so lickety-split (his actual words). I rested for an unspecified period of time while Nancy watched over me. She really was fantastic during the whole experience. I know that’s not what she wanted to do with her Sunday, and it had to have been disconcerting, but she never complained. She really is the best.
At length, they came to take me to the MRI. No luge jokes this time, as I was seated more or less upright now. When I got there the tech explained to me how the whole process was going to work and handed me a pair of earplugs. He then had me lie down on the narrow, poorly-padded slab and locked my head into place with something like an oversized helmet. From there, I slid up to my chest into the central tube. I’ve never had claustrophobia, so the fact that the tube left less than a foot of space over my face wasn’t didn’t particularly bug me. He ran a quick mike check to make sure we could hear each other, then began the scan.
When they tell you that you’ll need earplugs, they’re not messing around! What followed was several minutes of loud clanks, thuds, buzzes, and other assorted noises. When the noises stopped, he asked me how I was doing. I told him I was fine, and he told me the initial images looked good. He told me there was one more round that would last about ten minutes and asked if I was ready. I told him I was, and the noises began again. As I lay there with literally nothing to do but listen, my mind started picking out patterns in the sounds. With my eyes closed, I started visualizing different images and patterns to go along with the noises. It was kind of trippy, like a laser show at the planetarium. When it was over, he took me out and asked how I was doing. I told him I was fine, and that if there had been another round, I was going to ask if he had “Dark Side of the Moon”. He laughed. I guess you had to be there.
We waited about half an hour for the results, during which time my High Priest group leader and his first assistant came to give me a Priesthood blessing. I don’t remember exactly what was said, but I do remember being promised that the people working with me would be guided in what they did and that I would be okay. Less that two minutes after the blessing--while they were still in the room, in fact--the doctor came in and told me that the MRI results had come back clean. The transient ischemic attack I had experienced had been minor and had done no permanent damage. He recommended that I begin an aspirin regimen and referred me to a stroke clinic for a follow up visit. He sent the nurse in to take one final set of vitals, and then I was discharged.
I stayed home from school today at Nancy’s insistence (the doctor also suggested it, by the way). I’ve had a chance to get some rest, and I’m feeling a lot better. All things considered, I feel quite blessed that things turned out as benign as they did. Long story short (Too late!), I’m okay.
Anyway, that was my Sunday. How was yours?
posted by Michael at
3:37 PM
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1 Comments
