Last Friday, I got the MRI on my pelvis. The last/ only MRI I have ever had before that was on my knee, so during that MRI, only half my body had to go into the machine. If you have never seen an MRI machine before, it’s basically this giant ass tube-like structure with a hole through it that is about the length of a body and the also the exact circumference of maybe like a heavy-set middle aged dad.
So basically there is NOT much room in that thing. But like I said, I have only ever had to put half my body into it.
The fun thing about me is that I am pretty claustrophobic, also the fun thing about getting a pelvis MRI, is that the pelvis is much further up on the body than the knee SO I HAD TO GO ALL THE WAY INTO THE HOLE.
Okay, not ALL the way, but far enough that my entire body was in the thing except for basically just my forehead. She let me keep my forehead out so I would be able to at least look up at the ceiling and pretend that I’m not confined in a tiny hole that is only slightly larger than my body.
I told the woman I was claustrophobic but I am A GROWN ASS WOMAN and can totes handle this. I laid down on the table (which slides into the hole) and she got me prepped. This prep included taping my feet together because I guess it somehow angles your hips better for the MRI (or she was making it harder for me to escape).
She then slid the table into the MRI hole and I really thought I would be fine but as soon as my face started going into the hole, I had a panic attack! What a pussy I am! She was nice about it though and tried to make me as comfortable as possible, which included her loosening the death grip of the tape on my feet.
Anyway, back into the hole I went. She gave me some big ass headphones and blared the radio to block out the sounds of the MRI (which are VERY loud and unpleasant btw). The worst part about being trapped in a small hole that you cannot escape with the radio blaring in your ears is that, when a Bruno Mars song comes on, there is LITERALLY nothing you can do about it. You just have to sit there while it happens to you. If you were a sick psychopath and ever needed a good way to torture someone, stick them into a tiny hole and blare Bruno Mars in their ears. They would be begging for death within an hour.
So the MRI took about 45 minutes and I finally released from the hole.
I went to the doctor on Monday for a follow-up AAAAAAAAANNNNDDDDDDDDDDD I do not have a stress fracture! Ugh, all of that for NOTHING. But I can’t complain! She said that I have very tight hip flexors, probably from sitting at a desk all day (I have a standing desk but I’m lazy and never use it). Also, when I run for miles and miles on end, I probably start to get tired (what!?) and my form goes to shit. I start hunching a little bit when I get tired while running and that also causes super tight hip flexors. She said I need to strengthen my core (I could have told ya that) and that I should start doing Pilates. I don’t have $500 a month to sign up for some trendy ass boutique Pilates gym, so I bought a Pilates DVD off of Amazon and am just going to do them in my apartment, wearing a Jane Fonda leotard and leg warmers like some sort of mom in the 80s.
Naturally, the first thing I asked when she told me there wasn’t a fracture was if I could run again and she said YES. SO OF COURSE the minute I walked out the door, I signed up for an Olympic distance triathlon on September 17 and the Queen Bee half marathon on October 7!
TDLR: Everything is Gucci in my pelvic region.