by Kristin Nador/@KristinNador
Have you ever had a moment when the spark to write or create something is so strong, but you just couldn’t do it? Sometimes life butts in line in front of what you want to do. Creativity is there, swirling around in your mind, but you have to physically do something else. Physically be somewhere else. At your day job. Interviewing for a new job. Serving as a room mother for your child’s class. Taking care of a sick loved one. Appearing at a non-negotiable family gathering. Showing up at appointments you must keep.
I’ve been having a lot of those moments lately, mostly of the appointment kind. They’ve been cutting into my Write Anywhere challenges for a while. It’s a bit frustrating. I have less choice in finding venues, because though I may be up to the challenge mentally, I am not up to it physically. This week I found a spot where I could let my imagination run wild, while my body had to stay put.
Write Anywhere #57: MRI Machine
In an attempt to discover what is causing some of my physical ailments, my doctor decided an MRI would be helpful. I’ve never had an MRI before, but Keeper Hubby has, and assured me it was no big deal. The nurses and office personnel asked me over and over again if I was claustrophobic. Although I have plenty of phobias, being in a closed space is not one of them.
A woman who seemed more a young girl (I’m definitely getting old) escorted me to the room. She smiled and handed me a pair of disposable ear plugs.
“This is for the clicking sounds. They can be a little loud, but it’s nothing to worry about. Just the machine clicking. You won’t feel anything.”
She put a button in my hand, the kind you call for the nurse with in a hospital bed or try to win big money with on Wheel of Fortune.
“This is in case you need to come out. Just push it and I will bring you right out.”
I laid down on the bed of the machine. MRI fashion dictates comfortable clothing with no metal, so I wore loose gray yoga pants and a gray henley with extra long sleeves that allow for the thumbs to poke through the sleeve that partially covers the hands. The monochromatic gray made it look like a uniform.
As the bed slid silently into the tube, scenes from the movies Logan’s Run and Soylent Green popped into my head. I chuckled to myself and thought it’s a good thing they can’t read my mind with this, because I am a weirdo.
The woman’s disembodied voice echoed through the tube.
“This won’t take long. Try to relax but hold very still.”
I took a deep breath and let my muscles go limp. I was pretty relaxed; thought I might even take a cat nap. Then an alarm went off and I lost all semblance of relaxation. I jumped at the sound and stiffened. For about 20 seconds the alarm sounded, like a warning of imminent nuclear catastrophe on Fail-Safe.
The sound shook my entire being. It stopped and I took another deep breath, trying to re-establish my zen. Then I felt prickly tingles over different parts of my body. Wait a minute. They said I wouldn’t feel anything. What if something is going wrong? What if I’m being flooded with strange radioactive material? I could end up like The Incredible Hulk.
What if they are secretly implanting me with an alien pod? What if they snatch my body while I’m laying here and I don’t even know it?
The machine clicked at a steady beat, and I heard whispers. My arms ached from holding still. I started thinking maybe I need to push the button and get myself out of here.
The voice spoke again, calm and clear.
“Seven or eight more minutes and we’ll be done. Doing okay?”
“Sure, I’m fine,” I lied. More clicking, more whispers. I counted down the seven minutes in my head. Will I make it? 58, 59, 7 minutes and I hear the voice.
The tube ejected me into reality and my ears were ringing, even with the ear plugs. I sat up, dizzy. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” the smiling attendant asked.
I laughed at myself in the elevator and a short story idea starring the things my imagination came up with formed in my mind. When I got to the car I pulled out my trusty notebook and started scribbling while reminding myself to let up on the late night tv watching.