Thoughts of an Elk Grove Listing Gets an Agent Through an MRI

Who would have thought that thinking about Elk Grove listings could help an agent get through an MRI? If the MRI technician at UC Davis had never mentioned anything about breathing to me, I probably would have been OK, but he had to tell me. It was just a small rotator cuff tear I was there for. I’ve had a bunch of MRIs over the years, and I had never before been informed about the breathing. I’m not sure if that was an oversight or maybe I just looked like a person who would do a lot of heavy breathing inside the machine. Perhaps it was my Dry Tortugas t-shirt, which the technician also commented on because he used to live in Key West.

That boat trip to Dry Tortugas is now firmly embedded in my brain as an experience for which I am extremely grateful that it now belongs in my past and not in my future.

The problem breathing causes inside the MRI machine, he said, is if your breaths are too deep and big it will make the image bounce. Ditto if your breaths are short, fast and choppy. There is also the claustrophobia some people experience inside an MRI but probably would not happen if nobody ever mentioned it. Not only am I lying quietly and still, but I’m wondering why I’m not feeling claustrophobic. Plus, I am paying special attention to my breathing. Not too slow, not too fast.

Uh, oh, it feels like my breathing is suppressed. I wonder if it’s too slow? Relax, relax, in and out, in and out. How many breaths is that per minute? Too many? Aaaahhh. See, there is nothing else to do while the machine is doing its thing: DING DING DING DING, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, Bing, Bing, Bing, Bing. It’s not like you can sleep.

What is that on the side of my face? It feels like a tear. Why do I have a tear rolling down my cheek, ever so slowly? I can’t wipe it or touch it. What is making my eyes water? Uh, oh, how many breaths is that per minute? BOING BOING BOING BOING BOING BOING. Speaking of moisture, now I have to swallow. I definitely feel a big lump sitting there ready to go down my throat. If I swallow, will it interfere with the imaging? Probably. Just like the breathing. I have to lie perfectly still.

What the hell! My nose feels like it’s going to drip. It’s not like I can snort, which is so unladylike anyway, much less blow my nose, even if I had a Kleenix, which I don’t. What is building in my nasal passages — a master suite with its very own waterfall? Gah. Breathe slowly and steadily. Perhaps I should think about something other than what’s happening at the moment. I could think about any of my present escrows and upcoming new listings. Maybe that burned-out house in Elk Grove I have to list next week? Yeah, that will do the trick. Focus on my new listings in Elk Grove.