Yesterday's Brain Washing

Couple of days ago i had an MRI done on my noggin. Neurosurgeon wants to compare it to an older one to see if there is a pressing need to drill a hole in my forehead. In a happy scenario he'll be able to leave the tumor in my head confident that i'll collide with my fate armed with a different, wholly-unrelated raison de mort: "Ha ha ha! But you didn't get me with that!" i'll spray as i point my finger and taunt the paler Horseman.

On a happier note, the MRI itself was fun. i kinda' dig being in the tube. i imagine that that's what it will feel like being in a coffin-- sans mood-lighting and music. Indeed, that is just what went through my head while i lay there. They do offer music though.
"Would you like to listen to music sir?"
"Sure... Whaddaya have?"
"Satellite radio, sir. Pretty much anything you like."
"Umm, some techno then."
"Techno sir?"
"Techno."
i got the distinct impression that my docent didn't approve of my choice of mellowing, forget-that-you're-in-a-tube tunes, but in fact it homogenizes with the jackhammer magnets in the machine like peanut butter with cream cheese. i sloped off to sleep in maybe five minutes-- something that happens to me nowhere outside of an MRI tube. A few minutes in, they exhumed me to inject me with i.v. gadopentetate, a paramagnetic contrast agent. (i really like that word "paramagnetic;" something akin to "not quite magnetic.") i murmered something having to do with how having a fully foreign metallite on board could only be healthy and she replied with a perky comment that precisely failed to make me want to be her friend. Then i knocked off again. All in all it was a terribly recommendable experience. The $100 copay is a little pricey for a 20 minute nap, but the room service was impeccable.