I saw Jesus in an MRI tube

No I didn't die. I was trying to Jedi-mind trick myself. I had an MRI the other day, my first one ever. Seems simple enough, right? WRONG! It was awful and I wigged out major!

Going in I had it locked down. I imagined a large tube, super nice looking, updated, the works. Like a spaceship. Everything would be just fine.

So I get there and I'm filling out the paperwork and they slap a wristband on me like I'm about to go into surgery. Uhm... okay..

Then I read, "In some cases individuals injected with..."

Wait, what? There's an injection???

Aaaaannnnndddd.... FREAK OUT MODE!

For anyone who knows me, I don't do needles. I pass out. It's an all day excursion for me. Not realizing I was going to be injected, I didn't prepare. I didn't have a driver. I didn't eat breakfast. So I started to sweat.

And now it's my turn.

I tell the guy I can't do a shot. "No big deal. We'll do the first MRI without so you can think about it." Sweet!

We go into the room and the tube is so small. I'm seriously doubting I will fit. Regardless, I macho it up and lay down without a word, signal I'm fine, and the tech hits the button for me to slide in. I immediately shut my eyes. As I enter the tube, it's such a tight squeeze the walls push my arms onto my chest. I'm F-ed.

I can do this. It'll be what, 10 minutes? Piece of cake. I just won't open my eyes to see my confined space.

Boy was I wrong. Here is, to the best of my memory, a re-telling of everything that went through my head in those 40 minutes, or at least, with no sense of time inside there, what felt like 40 minutes...





Okay, I'm good. This won't take long. Man, it's dark. I'm kind of hungry. That clicking is loud.

Okay the noise is louder. That's very distracting. But it's on nonetheless so the sooner it gets done. Right?

Oh my god it's been more than five minutes. Don't freak out. Don't freak out. Don't freak out. Five more minutes. You can do this.

(About eight minutes in...)

LET ME OUT! I WANT OUT! I CAN'T DO THIS!
(I started tapping my foot violently to get the tech's attention. He ignored me. Somehow I calmed down.)

10 minutes in, the tech asks me if I'm okay. I say yeah I think I am. I think I'll make it. At this point I assume we must be half way done. I just need to think of something to distract me.

I can't think of anything. The noise is so loud. I want to open my eyes! DON'T DO IT! YOU'LL FREAK OUT IF YOU DO! THINK! THINK! THINK!

I feel the cool air blowing on my face. It makes me think of Disneyland's "Soarin' Over California" ride. I go to that. I'm in the ride. Now I'm hang-gliding. Now I'm on a high, red clifftop at the Grand Canyon with a hang-glider. Wait a minute, I hate heights..

Now I'm daring myself to jump. Just jump. Do it! Hear that noise? They're coming for you. This is the only way. You have to jump to get away. I look over the edge. It's really far. My stomach churns. Hear the noise? JUMP!

So I jumped. And now I have Will Ferrell making fun of me. "Look at me, AHHHHH, I'm dead! Idiot!" Thanks Will. I don't want to hang-glide anymore.

What did I do yesterday? Recount every detail. At one point I was going over comment moderation with a lady named Casey. Think of all of that. Many, many, fine details. That should take up time. It's been way too long. It's been 20 minutes. I should be done! I'm starting to wig out! Oh my God! Oh my God!

Then I turned to God. "God," I said, "I need you. I know I'm not dying. I know there's more deserving people that need you more than me right now. But I'm freaking out. I need a sign and or guidance. Something. Anything. Please help me."

And then Jesus appeared. Or at least, my brain made Jesus appear. We sat on clouds together. Everything was white on the ground and golden above. Jesus was massive. He showed me a large palace in the distance. It was massive, and it was God's. I asked where Mary was. He pointed her out. We just sat for awhile. Fading in and out of this fluffy palace, hanging out with Jesus, and the loud, obnoxious buzz of the MRI machine. I calmed. My breathing slowed. I knew I was okay. But it only last another five or so minutes. Maybe thinking I was fine, the image left me. And now I was back on the cliff, hang-glider in hand but this time with friends.

Now Casey was with me, she also had a hang-glider. Then I felt funny because if any woman should be with me it should be Katie, right? So Katie entered the picture. Casey jumped and safely landed below. Katie spoke to me about jumping. I couldn't do it. The noise was coming. Coming to get me. Katie jumped. And I was alone again.

So I jumped. And I glided. But the image of gliding didn't suffice. So I rewound and went back to the cliff. I looked over. I listened for the noise. And I jumped again. And rewound. And jumped. And rewound. This isn't working. I'm not gliding. I'm in a tube. I can't move. This is awful. I WANT OUT! I WANT TO MOVE! I WANT TO WIGGLE MY LEGS AND ARMS! I WANT TO MOVE MY NECK! I WANT TO OPEN MY EYES!!!! LET ME OUT!!!

If the tech would have come over the speaker again I would have asked to come out and rejected the MRI. He didn't, and I stayed. I went in and out of hang-gliding, trying to find Jesus, and even attempted utilizing sexual images (I had to try something) to try to calm myself. Nothing was working. I tried to recognize my surroundings and just accept the fact. I concentrated on breathing. My chest moving made me want to move the rest of the body.

And right when I was about the finally wig out one last time, shout and scream and even possibly cry.. I started to finally move.

But I only moved a click. And we did it again for about two minutes. Then move, click, and two more minutes. Move, click, two minutes. And then FINALLY...it was over.

I spent 40 minutes inside a tube. I had 3 major freak outs and probably two or three additional smaller ones. When I came out the tech said, "we aren't doing another. Don't worry about the injection, we're not doing it. I think we got a solid enough picture."

Lord, I hope so... because I'm going to need some Xanax the next time. Maybe two.