Reading Rita’s post yesterday reminded me of a time when I was in the waiting room for an MRI…
This was maybe the second or third time I had to go in for an MRI, one of the last ones before my breast surgery. I was uncomfortable in the waiting room because I was sitting in just a flimsy hospital robe and my skivvies and this was a co-ed space. Because of the nature of MRIs, I couldn’t have my phone or Kindle, so I just sat there, trying to look natural, while feeling completely exposed. Meanwhile, the nurses and technicians carried on their work with quiet efficiency.
Suddenly, there were loud voices coming from around the corner, unusual in this part of the medical building. It sounded like a man and woman.
“Why did they make me take off my pants, if they’re looking at my eye?!” A man wailed as he appeared in the small waiting area of four chairs. He was in a hospital gown open to the back and was unsuccessfully trying to keep it closed with one hand and shielding his eye with the other. A woman right behind him–literally–was laughing hysterically and also trying to keep him from revealing too much. The two of them made a scene that would’ve made much more sense in a bar than it did in an MRI waiting area.
“I don’t get it. Why can’t I wear my jeans??” the man continued. “Shhhhhh!” his companion warned, still giggling.
I wanted to tell him about the rivets, but neither of them seemed ready to listen to reason.
“Ms. Chen, we’re ready for you.” Saved by the nurse.
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