“Boy, we just wasted a whole morning,” Roy over the phone to his middle-aged son. Roy’s had been scheduled for a magnetic resonance imaging () exam, because her shoulder had been bothering her months. It had gotten to the point where golf game was suffering—she couldn’t break 120 anymore. drives, although still down the middle of the , barely went 90 yards. Without the game of and the company of her golfing companions, Pat a depressed woman.
Her doctor had recommended the exam. For a shoulder exam, the patient lies up on a flat metal “bed.” The bed into the MRI machine, like a DVD sliding a DVD player. The patient’s nose is barely inches from the metal ceiling. Many patients who even slightly claustrophobic become nervous or even hysterical they are slid into this compartment. The MRI has to slide them back out where they “breathe” again. This happens regularly, even though patients warned about the tomblike environment.
Pat’s doctor had her a sedative to take half an hour the exam. He had also told her to a sleep mask, which would cover her eyes that she wouldn’t see the ceiling just inches her face. Pat took the sedative and wore mask. But as soon as she was slid the way into the machine, she started screaming. technician pushed the button to slide her back . She was hyperventilating.
“Oh, my God! I could it! It was like I was being buried !” she exclaimed to her husband. “You’re such a ,” Roy told her as they walked out of MRI room.