MRIs Revisited - Still Difficult But Illuminating

The New "Denali" Bed - (I joke, but there is a mini weather system at the top)  It's fabulous!  Requires A Pole Vault And Carabiners! It's Got Two Cedar Drawers!  I Love It!

Hello Fellow Travelers!

I'm still trying to climb up to the "Summit of Sleep" every night.  The bed has two, cedar-lined drawers so I'm determined to figure out a way to traverse it!

But figure out a way, I will!  The two dovetailed, drawers at the foot of the bed are large, easily accessible and hold everything.  So if my sprawling onto the top following a desperate leap utilizing all my strength and agility is required, I'm all in!  So what if after a death-defying jump (and very ungainly sprawl landing - no grace whatsoever) I reach the top?  Reaching the top is all that matters!  It's similar to boarding a boat, getting aboard is all that counts.  I took a page from a prison cell on "Game of Thrones" - no doors because a fall would be death.  I stay away from the edges of Denali.  A fall would be disastrous.

Dangerous?  Probably.  But it's a calculated risk -  It removes any impulse to nap or oversleep  Ascending to the summit requires precision and strength - and practice.  Repeated practice.  This bed is more than a piece of furniture to me, it's part of my lifestyle now.  Those two cedar drawers are integral to our method for streamlined living.

One challenge I thought I was done with after five years was the Magnetic Resonance Imager or MRI.  I recently changed insurance providers and was told I needed a new MRI, and would need a new one for the next three years!

Naturally my first response was "No, I don't think so.  Five years are enough, I'm done."  However, the PS has a totally different take on brain tumor vigilance and MRIs- knowing sooner is always better.  I have barely tolerated this annual foray into hell thinking I'd be finished at some point (I'm extremely claustrophobic, and an MRI is like being in a coffin) but now I at least have a reason for annually subjecting myself to the longest, scariest, 20 minutes imaginable!  Previously, I had believed a brain scan would be nothing but a reaffirmation that there was no cancer, I'm still a medical anomaly, and who cares?  Moving on...

The PS suggested in the unlikely event that cancer reappeared, if it was identified early enough I might be able to fight with non-surgical treatments.  That got me thinking: I can't tolerate more brain surgery but I could survive chemotherapy.  I probably would live after radiation.  So as horrific as MRIs remain, they do serve a purpose, so I'll "embrace the suck" and endure the belching,  cacophonous crypt-like machine - for the rest of my life (or until they invent something better).