Their machine broke.
Fortunately, I found this out yesterday, and they were able to schedule me on the Orthopedics & Spine Center machine - initially at 11, then rescheduled to 3:30.
Unfortunately, they didn't actually get me in there til 4.... and my ride to ydnic and adrian76's reception had to leave at 4:30.
(Cid and Wm - dinner at my place sometime soon?)
The MRI itself went fine, although it was highly colored by one aspect of Short Chick Syndrome. Oh, there are many, many aspects to Short Chick Syndrome. The particular aspect that made today mildly tedious:
Short chicks look younger than we are. This causes even people who damn well know our age because it's printed on the chart they're damn well holding to treat us like we're younger than we are. Which, in this case, involved a lot of sweetie-honeying and overexplaining. Even though he'd asked me if I'd ever had an MRI before, and I said yes, two. He explained *everything*. With the isn't-she-precious look. And several rounds of "Are you comfortable?" and "That's right! That's perfect!" And I'm just lying there looking at him and thinking very hard "Will you please just stick me in the fucking tube already?"
And oh, gracious, how he worried about having to "immobilize" my wrist. "We need you to keep your wrist in something to keep it still so we get a good picture, okay? Is that okay?"
"I've had a brain MRI - I've had my head strapped down in the cage. I'm pretty sure I'll be fine with whatever you do to immobilize my wrist."
"Oh, you'll do great!"
So. I went into the tube, and he narrated every set of clanks, and I just gave up and faked enthusiasm. And he took me out and complimented me profusely on how still I'd been.... they usually have to do at least one or two retakes, but I was *perfect*! And I managed to keep from telling him that, as a good submissive, I am able to hold a position for *hours*.
And I was released from his effusive praise. And went forth and had a burger, all growly.
I want my grey hair, dammit. I want to be visibly older than sixteen. (Yes, I was told recently that I look sixteen. From someone, um, from whom it was creepy.)
And now I will go upstairs and watch more Fruits Basket with Elayna, since she is refusing to leave me alone until we do so. The lack of respect for people's privacy in this house is the topic for a whole 'nother post...
But ah! To complete the medical thing: I should have results by Wednesday, at which point this doctor should hopefully get off his lazy insurance-company-milking ass and Do Something.