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Wednesday, February 4, 2015

failure to tweet is the main problem here

Yesterday was a debacle. I think three attempts to sedate me with valium is enough to call that one quits.


My counterintuitive med reactions get a little ridiculous, so my severe claustrophobia was heightened to "cat clawing its way out of" fill in the blank. Basically, the SpongeBob side of my brain kidnapped the Spock side and we all just left the building.



I'm skipping a few details. I'm pretty sure I looked a little psychotic, especially holding my chicken.


I immediately dug into deeper research (users comparing notes online) and feel confident, thanks to a couple of very heavy medicators, that just sticking to what I know is probably preferable for this morning's attempt. Xanax it is, then. But MOAR.

Panic disorder is a real thing. Aspienado growing up with panic disorder will hopefully help a few parents out there understand what in the world is going on inside their screamy little children. In the meantime, I learned yesterday that injection sedation is no longer used in MRIs without airway (yeah, been in this rodeo before, I know way too many things about sedation), so if I want to know what's going on in me, I must be brave and trust the xanax. Given my pill phobia, I'll get double points for bravery if I can do this.

I don't mention it very often, but I own nearly every Jackie Chan movie ever made and practically memorized his autobiography. Falling is an art, a skill developed with practice. My whole life has been about turning epic fail into epic fall. I'll try to remember that today and grit my teeth through another sedation attempt. I've mentioned before I'm the sort of person that wakes up from full sedation and talks to people during surgeries, right? If I could tweet from inside the MRI tube I'd be fine...


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