My Crohn's Diaries

A few weeks ago, I had my first MRI enterography, and it was…an experience. Leading up to the MRI, my doctor warned me that it wasn’t the most pleasant test, so I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. I turned to trusty old Reddit threads and got the typical range of “it was the worst experience ever” to “it was totally fine.”

On the instructions of my doctor, I fasted the morning before the test, took a Zofran before I left, and headed out the door. I was scheduled for 3;45, so I arrived around 3:30 and sat in to wait. Then, at appointment time, they called me back, had me change into a gown, lock my personal items, including my phone, in a locker, and then a nurse placed an IV in my arm.

Then they gave me three bottles of fluid to drink. Which, honestly, weren’t bad. They sort of tasted like a diluted, slightly thick Sprite. Definitely manageable. They gave me 45 minutes to drink the three bottles and sat me in a mini-waiting room near the MRI machine. I did wish I had my phone during this portion, but they had a TV on playing a Jeopardy rerun, so it was enough to keep me entertained while I briskly drank the fluid. I was cold, mostly because I had only my gown to keep me warm, but otherwise it wasn’t unpleasant.

I used the restroom to pee right before the exam on the advice of the nurse, that way I didn’t have to during the exam. Then they came to get me from the waiting room, gave me an injection of glucagon, and wanded me down to make sure I didn’t have any metal on me. They gave me earplugs, tucked little pillows against my arms, and that was that.

Then, it was into the machine for forty-five minutes. I’m okay with tight spaces, but it is an awfully long time in one. I was hoping for a reprieve when they injected the contrast into my IV, but much to my disappointment, they did it while I was still in the tube. But, really, it wasn’t bad. I stared at the white space and listened to the clanking and held my breath when it said to, and then, it was over. They did check on me periodically and I did have the little balloon in my hand in case I needed any help. I had contrast injected before, so I knew to expect the warm rush of it through my body.

If you’ve never had contrast before, it really does feel a bit like you’re actively peeing yourself, but for me, it also makes my heart race for a few seconds in a sort of artificial panic.

The machine was rather warm, too. Not unbearably, but especially after the contrast was injected, I was sweating. Thankfully, that was the latter half of the MRI, and it was over before it became too hot. Then, they took the IV out, sent me to change back into my real clothes, and I had to wait for someone to walk me out to the lobby. I took that opportunity to pee again.

I had been planning on stopping for lunch after fasting all day, but halfway home, about fifteen minutes into my drive, I started to worry that I wouldn’t even make it that far before I had to…use the restroom. It’s very, very similar to the colonoscopy prep panic.

I did not stop for food. I did make it home. I really only had the one bout of liquid that came out, and then I was back to normal after that. Some people online said they had it all day or for a few days, but that wasn’t my experience.

All in all, not a terrible test. I far prefer it to a colonoscopy.

My results were posted to my chart only two days later, too, and while a lot of it was beyond my comprehension, the conclusion was that I had no active inflammation. Yay!

I was on Prednisone at the time, though, so that could have slightly skewed my results. Either way, I’m pleased with that result, even if it can sometimes be disappointing to go through a somewhat annoying process to find…nothing.

No inflammation is not nothing! I have to remind myself of that. I don’t know why I sometimes wish for worse results or visible pain or something to point to to prove that I’m sick. I should be happy. And I am! I am! I really, really am!

I want to be healthy so bad. It’s just that sometimes, when I am “healthy”, I feel like I’ve made it all up. That all of this has been a ploy for attention. A child pretending to scrape her knee so someone will kiss it better.

When I’m healthy, I feel like my need, my longing, for support is no longer justified. That, in the light of a somewhat clean bill of health, my inability to keep my apartment pristine, do all of my work, keep up with my friends, and achieve my dreams all at the same time becomes laziness rather than self-care.

Anyway, anyway. It was a good result. I am happy. And it wasn’t really all that bad. Be careful what you read online. Maybe map out a bathroom as an emergency stop on your way home. It’ll be ok.