Unremarkable

The MRI says my brian is "unremarkable". We could have told you that.

Yes, once again I had a procedure that told me absolutely nothing about what is going on with me. I suppose I should be happy that this process of elimination is helping me to find the real problem, but this morning when doctor’s office called they pretty much said that after the nerve conduction testing next month, there is nothing more they have to offer. Great. Now I have another month and a half of falling down before going through more testing that will most likely have “inconclusive” results.

Coincidentally the night before the test I watched a bad movie where a running joke was one of the characters trying to break into the recording industry by composing House Music. The music was truly awful but was considered greatly improved when a nearly-dead man in his apartment started tapping a single note over and over on the composer’s keyboard. It turns out that MRI’s sound just like that awful House Music! It was all I could do to keep from laughing as that single repeating note kept being blasted through the tube to the counterpoint of musical sounds the machine made. (If you haven’t had an MRI, they are very musical. They don’t just make the ka-chunk, ka-chunk sound shown in TV medical dramas.)

I have a friend who has been very supportive and keeps encouraging me saying that it’s not that nothing is wrong with me but that the doctors haven’t found anything because they aren’t asking the right questions. In the meantime, my technical diagnosis still remains “bull sh*t lying hypochondriac bit*h”.

Oh my gosh, would you quit yammering about yourself already and tell a story about me?!?

Next time, puppy.

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