...that would have been if I wasn't the person it was happening to!
I did go to my MRI at the time that I was scheduled, 10:45 A.M.
It was even a bit earlier, but they wanted you there fifteen minutes before your designated appointment to fill out some additional minor paperwork.
After all, was said and done, the attendant at the window informed another patient, and me that they were running behind schedule, about an hour and a half.
That meant they would be ready for me at 12:15 P.M.
Hubby and I decided to wait it out in their parking lot.
I did go back in about 12:00 P.M. and they were ready for me, and showed me to a room and told me to put on a gown and take off everything but my undies. Which to me seemed odd for a "brain" MRI, but I did do it.
In previous ones, all I had to do was make sure I did not have on my earrings or necklace and make sure none of my clothing had metal in it.
So the MRI tech made me wait outside her office as she got validation and verification, as I sat in their wheelchair in their very cold building even with the blanket that she had given to me. I was made to transfer since mine has a computer and theirs doesn't it's manual.
The verification or whatever took additional time, it was probably another half an hour before I actually was helped by a step to lie in the MRI machine.
As I was waiting for the actual MRI to begin I noticed my baclofen pump very close to my skin and I could feel its outline to me more than usual. She, Margo, took me out of the MRI machine and said she can't do this, and then called Medtronic and my doctor, who came over with Tessa and her trainee, all saying after testing and looking at my pump that all was well and no reason to not have the MRI! I suppose I was a bit anxious but they were right next door. And I did appreciate them coming over so quickly! But embarrassed too.
So Margo, the tech, began again getting me into the machine to start the MRI, and I heard the familiar knocking, banging of the machine... and all of a sudden Margo comes in and tells me that the machine is malfunctioning they cannot read anything it is putting out and that I am done for today... she will call me and let me know when the machine is fixed. WHAT???
A three Tesla MRI machine broke???
By now it is nearly 2 P.M., and all I was looking forward to was that Thai food Hubby promised to soothe this craziness!
As we are going to the car, Hubby informs me that the Thai Cafe as all the Thai restaurants apparently close, from 2-4 P.M., and the one we were going to go to is closed!
I settled for our favorite Chinese cuisine, at China City, a couple of blocks away... lobster lo Mein for me, and Hubby a Pupu platter and for both of us egg drop soup! Actually, we share everything.
Oh, I almost forgot, this morning I made another appointment, this time with my usual MRI imaging place, but it's not until early next week unless they have a cancelation!
And I did go to my doctor's office for Tessa to check my pump, and it was fine, due to the bad machine making those familiar noises anyway... who knows?
And so, we must go for now...
I am called Aussie because my Mom asked a sixteen-year-old girl, who had been looking at me, in the crate at the adoption site, that day, what she thought I should be named. And without hesitation, the teenager had said, Aussie! She was just looking, by the way,... so Mom did not steal me from her.
We never did find out the girl's name, and Mom liked the name Aussie too. We have since found out that it is a very common name, but it is still just right for me! My parents think that I am uncommon though,...some might say even unique! I do like that.
I am an Australian Shepherd. Here is an interesting factoid about me, I was supposed to be a miniature Australian Shepherd, but...as you might know, I AM NOT! Although I am now three years old, so I am the baby, though I tip the scales at around seventy pounds, HA! I must admit, a very big one!
I was three months old when Mommy and Daddy adopted me. I had been taken out of a hoarder's home in the Carolinas with my litter. Below is my new PIC that had been taken on the birthday that I share with my Dad, but Dad is much, much older than me!!! I was the first to be adopted, February 16, 2018, his brother's birthday.
Please don't forget me, I am Chance, pictured above, a Bichon Frise! I am six years old, so they think, and the eldest, and I like getting up early with Mom and Aussie. Bella sleeps in with Dad, till after seven most days, even later! I enjoy a good tug-of-war on the ropes that Dad had twisted for Aussie and me, and sometimes even Bella plays too! I was the last to be adopted, on January 23, 2020.
I was wandering the neighborhood for days and then saw Aussie and Bella in their living room window so I hung out there... The Animal Welfare League checked me out and kept me for sixteen days until I was allowed to be adopted. Good evening?
Now my name of Chance is because I was given another chance, it could be only the second one or perhaps more... The animal control lady came out to see if I had a chip I.D. with her machine, and Dad told her that he wanted to name me Chance. His reason being, that if no one claimed me, I want to give him a second chance! So that is how I got the name Chance!
Easy as Aussie, Bella, Chance, now you got it!
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