I just have to say, this wonderful machine is the best medical invention since penicillin!
The last time I had to have an MRI, I was a total wreck. I’ve always been mildly claustrophobic, but I had no idea how claustrophobic I really was until I watched my lower body disappear into that tiny little tunnel and had a total panic attack! (you should have heard the poor tech trying to reassure me that no, my head was not sliding into the machine, and keep me calm enough for them to get a good image of my knee!) So when my doctor ordered an MRI of my head last week, I nearly freaked out. Fortunately he was able to set me up with an imaging place that has one of the newer “open MRI” machines Even then, I’ve been so anxious all week that I’ve hardly been able to concentrate.
All I can say is, the test was a total non-issue. I didn’t feel at all confined, and even took a little nap! If I hadn’t had a vein collapse when they injected the contrast material (Guess I was a little TOO relaxed. The doctor had given me a small dose of Valium, but as it turned out, I really didn’t need it), it would have almost been a pleasant experience!
If any of you ever has to have an MRI, and even think you may be the teeniest bit claustrophobic, definitely ask your doctor about this option. I’ve avoided having an MRI for years after that first experience. It’s nice to not have to dread this kind of procedure.
I had a similar experience with the regular, torpedo-tube MRI. I had to have an MRI of my head to rule out an acoustic neuroma as a cause of my chronic tinnitis. So, I’m unloading my pockets and the tech says “Dr. Wisely, you don’t have claustrophobia, do you?” and I’m all “Nah” because I never had any problem with claustrophobia. They they put me on the thing and clamp a cage over my head. (Ever read 1984? I mean, there was no rat in the cage or anything, but still…") That kind of started a little mini-panic and then when they start rolling me in this tube I’m thinking, “Uh. No.” It didn’t help that there’s no comfortable place to put one’s arms and so the posture you end up in is flat on your back with your arms crossed across your chest, BEING INSERTED INTO A COFFIN-SIZED SPACE. So, I, too have a big ol’ greasy panic attack. I’m thinking to myself “Hey, Dale, you’re a professional psychologist. You’re having a panic attack. It’s not going to kill you.” Then I realize my heart’s hitting about 160 beats/minute and so I think “Hey. Maybe it will kill me.” Anyway, I called for an abort and had the open procedure, as did Redwolf.
Unfortunately, I’ve had some post-traumatic claustrophobia since. Mild, but a really tight public restroom is enough to cause a little flurry of anxiety. Plus, politicians keep hitting on me while I’m in there.
Same here. It’s amazing how something like that can leave you dealing with the long-term heebie jeebies.
My doctor told me that many people don’t realize that they have a problem with small spaces, and will quite confidently tell the tech that claustrophobia isn’t a problem…and then totally freak out in “the bad tube.”
Like Dale, I also have chronic tinnitus. It sounds like I have a cricket chorus going on in my head continually. I have gotten used to it, so I really am not aware of the high pitched squeel most of the time.
However, my experience with the closed-tube MRI machine was for a shoulder injury, which means that your head and body are in the machine. I didn’t have any problem with being in the confined space. My problem was with the loud humming noise made by the magnetic coils. Even though I was wearing earplugs, it was just about more than I could tolerate. I was very glad when the test was over. I wasn’t glad, however, when I received the $1,600 bill for the test.
