Last Thursday I had my first MRI.  “MRI” is short for Magnetic Resonance Imaging, which is the use of nuclear magnetic resonance to produce images of internal body structures that don’t show up well on x-rays.  I have had headaches and lightheadedness, which seem to be immediately attributable to my blood pressure dropping as soon as I stand up, and decreasing even more the longer I stand.  But as a matter of course, since headaches and some light facial numbness were among my symptoms, the doctor scheduled me to have an MRI of the brain, hopefully just to rule out the presence of any tumors or other abnormalities that might be the cause of my problems.  So an MRI was scheduled.  Like many people, I had heard about MRI’s, but had never had occasion to have one.  I write about my experience in hopes that it might help someone else know what to expect, and perhaps to assist somewhat in the choice of MRI machine options. 

First, mine was what they call a “closed” MRI.  It is a long structure that you are slid into head first, like entering a big, thick donut.  (There are “open air” MRI’s, which do not encase one’s entire body, and which eliminate some of the discomforts I will write about.)  This MRI machine did indeed enclose my entire head and upper body for about two feet, which can create a feeling of claustrophobia for many people.  If that is a potential problem for you, you might be sure to arrange for an open air MRI if at all possible.  They mitigated the “claustrophobic” feeling somewhat with a little periscope-like viewing glass: thus when I opened my eyes, I could see down the length of my body, and even into the office where the technicians were staying.  A small amenity perhaps, but it was much better than feeling totally “closed off” in a coffin-like space!

I walked into the room where the MRI was located, and laid down on a cot-like structure similar to what you see in a doctor’s office, except there was a little cut-out space for one’s head near the entrance to the MRI machine.  I put my head in the appropriate place, and then the technician put a helmet-like gadget over my head (equipped with the “periscope” glass), and used a couple of soft rectangular bars to keep my head in place for the procedure.  They advised that it was vital to keep as still as possible, especially when you could hear the sounds, which would indicate that the MRI was working.  Then my head and upper body were moved into place into the hollow “donut” of the MRI machine.

A member of our church (Jolynne Dennis) whose child is a veteran of MRI procedures gave us several useful suggestions, among them being to bring a favorite music CD which the technicians could play over headphones in the “helmet.”  This was helpful in several ways.  I brought a “Newsboys” CD, which includes a song that God has used in recent days to minister to me (“Strong Tower”).  But as well as reminding me of God’s promises, the music also served a couple of other more pragmatic purposes: it helped cover the sound of the MRI (more on that in a moment) and it also allowed me to ascertain approximately where we were in the procedure.  When they would say: “This part will take twenty minutes”, I would estimate about four minutes per song, and figured it would take about 5 songs to complete.  My estimations were fairly accurate, and it gave me some benchmark for where we were in the process, which was of some comfort and value to me.  For my test, there was a 12-minute segment, and then a 20-minute segment.

As I mentioned, the MRI itself was LOUD as it performed its task.  That was somewhat surprising.  The volume was not consistent in kind or volume – there were different sounds at different levels and different times.  There was a quieter, whining sound, and a louder, vibrating sound that shook your whole body.  The CD helped cover a lot of that; it would have been much more disconcerting without the music.  It occurred to me as I thought of our friends from church that those loud sounds might be even more unnerving for a child – a heads’ up for parents of little ones who might be having the procedure.  Do prepare yourself (or your child) for the volume, and bring a favorite CD if at all possible.  I will say that neither the doctor’s office nor MRI office mentioned the possibility of bringing a CD, so I was very grateful for our friend’s advice.  But now YOU know!  (I have also read that some of the newer “open air” MRI machines also have the added benefit of being much less noisy!)      

After about 12 minutes of the longer 20-minute MRI procedure, the technician came in and said that she was going to give me an injection so they could see the contrasts in my brain better.  (Again I was grateful that our friend had given me advance warning that this might happen – that was the first I had heard  of it from the technicians!)  I understand that sometimes they give you an IV for this purpose, but in my case it was only a single shot, which she said was water-based.  Another heads’ up: after I was given the injection, and the technician walked away, I had a very brief, but strong sensation of nausea.  In fact, I actually called out to the technician, as I was certain I was about to be sick, but no one heard!  Blessedly, the feeling passed in about 10 seconds, but it was unnerving for just a while there, as I was strapped in the helmet and enclosed in the machine during that little “crisis.”

But there was nothing to the procedure itself other than just laying there, trying to be still during the process.  The only “challenge” I faced was trying not to swallow while I could hear the machine working, lest the motion move my head and ruin the imaging.  But there were enough breaks in the process that this was not really a problem.  Other than that – and the prick of the injection and the brief nausea episode – the whole procedure was effortless.  Counting the 12-minute, and 20-minute tests, with a brief respite in between, and the time it took to get set up, the entire process was complete in about an hour.  Then it was just time to wait for the results!

In my case, the technicians told me that they would get the results to my doctor by noon the next day, and then the doctor’s office should call me with results that same afternoon.  Indeed, I received a call from his assistant Friday afternoon (it was about 5:00; I must admit I was getting a bit antsy by that time …) with the good news that the MRI was clear: no tumors or aneurism or any other abnormality.  My problem is elsewhere, which hopefully is good news.  If you or a loved one is facing a MRI in the near future, I hope the same outcome for you, and I trust that my MRI experience may help lessen your anxieties and better prepare you for your procedure.