MRI Arthrogram...the painful truth

Go here to read about the second, much less painful arthrogram.

I was told I would feel a prick, like a bee sting. I guess if a killer bee dug it’s way into my joint space releasing toxic poison, maybe I could see the connection.

I was not prepared for the pain, like going to have my teeth cleaned and coming out with a root canal. After changing into a gown (sick of them) I met dr. pain on a cold silver table with a sinking feeling that the next few minutes might be terribly unpleasant.

I’d like to interject that a valium or possibly horse tranquilizer would be beneficial when preparing for your MRI Arthrogram. Tear soaked, I recall grumbling something about ibuprofen, but it was too late. The needle pierced into my hip like a fiery sword, digging deeper and pushing harder than I could take, leaving fingernails and feet touching the table.

I watched the contrast dye on the monitor as it injected into my hip, like blood spreading through water, thick and dark. It was surreal, the harshness of it all. I tried to imagine myself in Yoga, focusing on the breath, anything to keep the tears from rolling, but it only reminded me that I can no longer practice Yoga with the impingement; disasterous.

I am sobbing like a baby while being wheeled to the MRI machine. Embarrassed, fearful and terrified of what the next few months may have in store for me.

OK, so MRI? It’s like being strapped down, shoved in a freakishly white cold tunnel with the sound of a New York sidewalk being drilled through your headphones turned on high. This totally freaked me out. It was 30 minutes of the most nerve shattering noises I’ve ever heard in my life. A siren, air compressor, tambourine and kick drum beating, then silence, then sidewalk drilling, my head is still throbbing, another reason to take the Ibuprofen.

Once I looked down, past my FREEZING COLD FEET, I saw what looked like a white room one might stay in while being institutionalized, with a little white horn reminding me of grammar school. Twilight Zone.com. I hated that stupid horn!

It’s over now and I’m limping around, stunned. I’m just getting over the c-section, I’m sick of hospitals, sick of doctors, sick of the smell of band-aids and pretending that needles don’t hurt and being strong enough to take care of my children and trying not to ask for help. I want to be in the gym two hours a day to prepare for this great beach trip I have in two weeks with my girl friends.

Mostly, I’m tired.
Darn horn.
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Just a quick note, 2 weeks later I had an arthrogram on the left hip at a new facility by a more competent doctor and it was an entirely different experience. It hurt, but nothing terrible and certainly not as bad as the one posted above, so if you are scheduled for one, don't let my story scare you. It's NOT supposed to be that bad. Also, I was not in pain afterwards with the second one.