Stillness

Really, January?  Wow.  That's a long time, with no blogging.  Didn't think it had been THAT long.  Wow.

I wish I had a picture to compliment this post.  Since a picture was impossible, I knew I needed to record this event with words.  It was definitely a picture worthy event.  However, one snap of the camera would have destroyed the camera.  Only the picture in my mind was going to work for this event.

Last Thursday, I watched one tough-kid-of-mine do something I don't think I could do.  In fact, I had to take deep breaths and "not think" just to watch him go through it.  It was MRI day for Trevor.  We both rid ourselves of anything metal.  We were thorough: no metal.  They let me go in the room with him as long as I was metal free.  Chad came too, but sat in the lobby (he had not dressed metal free).  The technician told us that bank card are ruined a foot inside the doorway.  Just doesn't sound like the place you want to bring a digital camera!

It was an educational process.  Wow! to to the technology that makes it possible for magnets to take pictures of the insides of our bodies.  I was impressed with the detail of the pictures (what quick scanning we were able to see of them).  After the MRI, they showed Trevor some "science" with the machine.  He got to see the magnetic pull of a string of paper clips near the MRI machine.  Kinda fun!

So, why did I have difficulty in there?  One word: claustrophobia.  Tiny space.  Funny thing that bothered me the most? The bar that goes over your head (over your nose).  I think I would need to be asleep for that one.  I think I would be bothered most by that fact that I couldn't move if I had needed/wanted to.

Trevor was in the "tube" except for his knees down.  I would occasionally hold his feet, if he started to wiggle his toes.  The machine was LOUD!  Lots of banging and strange noises.  Many times I felt like I was in a set from LOST.  Trevor wasn't supposed to talk and he couldn't really hear me.  (We both had earphones and Trevor had additional ear plugs).  He was a trooper at holding still.  Near the end of the 45 minutes of testing, Trevor started to move his toes a lot more.  Each time, I would hold his toes.  I thought his muscles were just getting tired of all the "holding still" business.  When we got out, I asked Trevor about his toe wiggling.  He explained that he was just seeing if I was still there.  I'm glad they let me in the room so I could "still be there."

We won't know results until sometime this week.  Sometimes I let myself begin to worry, but then I figure there is nothing I can do about it.  It would be needless worrying.