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Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner, click here
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The conclusion.
So, there I am. Waiting to be consumed, eaten alive by a monster. (The sacrifice is ready, Doctor.)
Dr. Weisenhauer and the x-ray tech lined up the gurney next to the stretcher-bed. The good doctor undid the straps (thank God!) and both assisted me from one bed to the other one, no easy task for them or me. Dr. Weisenhauer then said, "Let's get you in the correct position. There you are--you're doing fine." (Liar. I was terrified.) "This is the coil I told you about; we will have to put it on you to ensure you don't move. It won't hurt, but it is confining." (Just what I wanted to hear, thankyewverymuch.)
They got me positioned and coiled; then Dr. Weisenhauer said, "I'm going right over there, to the control room. Remember, I will be able to see, hear and talk to you through the procedure. When I get into the control room, the table will move into the scanner. I'll warn you before that happens, if you'd like." (Hell, yes!!)
Then I was alone.
Facing this terrifying beast.
This monster.
A (not so tiny) lamb led to the slaughter.
Any last words?
Sweat broke out all over my body. I said, in a trembling voice, "Doctor? Doctor? I've changed my mind...can I have a sedative, please? Doctor?"
The bed came to life with a soft whine. At least, I think it was the bed that whined. It could have been me.
"Wait--wait--can anybody hear me?" I tried like hell to move, but was trapped. The bed slid slowly--agonizingly slowly!--into the mouth of the beast.
"Stop! Get me out of here! Anybody there?? I can't hear you--get. me. OUT!," I screamed.
No answer. This was NOT good.
"HELLO???? Can anybody hear me??? Help! Fire! Police!! Hel-LOOO???"
No answer.
Further into the throat of the scanner I went. Head.
The bed slid deeper in.
Deeper.
Chest.
Deeper.
Deeper.
Into its intestines, I think. I was the scanner's snack.
I got good and mad. A proper lady doesn't swear, but I let fly with some words that would have turned a sailor pale. That would get their stupid attention.
No answer.
My screams echoed off the interior of the scanner, bounced back and slammed into my ears.
No answer.
I couldn't see anything except smooth walls. Right there in front of my nose. THIS CLOSE. There was a line on the wall. THISCLOSE. My eyes crossed, and the line blurred as tears snaked out the corners of my eyes and slid into my ears.
"Help me???" I cried out. "Please?"
No answer.
I--couldn't--MOVE. Trapped. Sweat ran in icy rivulets down my body. I could smell the stink of increasing terror rising off me in nauseating waves.
The bed (me?) whined to a halt.
Silence. Well, that wasn't exactly true . My heart was beating a crazy syncopated rhythm to the ragged gasps coming from my lungs.
The scanner began to emit a loud clicking. I would have jumped, but I. Couldn't. Move. Even if I wanted to. I was frozen in fear.
"Help me???? Please?"
No answer. DAMMIT! No answer.
The clicking continued. The sound intensified. The ceaseless chatter sounded like a million crickets. Another thing I hate are bugs. My skin goosefleshed at the thought of crickets emerging from hidden places and finding a tasty meal ready to be eaten.
The noise got louder and louder--it was going to drive me crazy--then.
This loud thump. The bed I was lying on trembled. The lights went out. "HELP MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Pure darkness. I don't like dark, either. Especially small, dark places. Especially small, dark places when I'm coiled/strapped/trapped/screw it tied down and CAN'T MOVE--
I screamed and screamed and screamed until my throat nearly burst. Surprised I didn't rupture a blood vessel and spray blood all over the scanner's walls.
No answer.
No freaking answer.
It was an eternity before I heard distant voices yelling. "Mrs. Jackson! It's Dr. Weisenhauer! Can you hear me?"
I tried to yell back, but I'd ripped my throat raw with my screaming.
"Don't panic. The power failed. We're trying to get you out--why. Won't. The. Stupid. Bed. MOVE??? She's stuck in there! IT'S ALL RIGHT, MRS. JACKSON! We'll have you out in a jiffy! Why won't the generator--"
That's the last thing I remember.
And you ask me why I'm scared.
Another MRI? HELL. NO.
(C) Copy written, 2004, by Karla Dorman.
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Reader Reviews for
"MRI, A Hospital Horror Tale (Conclusion)"
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| Reviewed by Joshua Scribner |
2/21/2009 |
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| Pretty good. The comic voice of the main character moves this story along well. The foreshadowing was also handled well. The story kept me guessing but never sure what was going to happen. Good job. |
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| Reviewed by High Country Girl |
9/30/2007 |
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Yeeeepppppppw Kiddo, I've had two so far, and both times i took sedatives so i was in fairy land long before i even got into that long tube. Werent no way I was goin in thar before I was off me face haha...I would've chucked a full blown panic attack, and that would've been a real mess for them, and terrifying to the point of seizure for me!!!!
All the freakin bright lights too, whoever says it's a walk in the park, go walk in the park then.
I read all three, n waited till the end for my comments. Love the analogies and expressions u used matey, cool stuff, or wacked out hot head scream dream LOLOL.
Loves yah
Ch'erie
PS If i gotta go in again for that tumour that isnt growing at the moment, AHEM.....More goon gear please hehe.
Listening to Elvis was better than knock knock knock, bang bang bang, whrrrrrrrrrr. of for frigs sakes. |
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| Reviewed by Brian Greenleaf |
9/15/2007 |
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| Well thanks for that, Karla. I've never had one and, after reading this, I never will; at least not willingly. Nice build up. I'm sure you'll be hearing from some irate radiologists once their patients have read this and refuse to "submit to the beast." Nice job. Thanks for sharing. |
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| Reviewed by E. Farrand |
4/15/2007 |
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Hi Karla,
I enjoyed this very much. I have had 3 MRI's and my only objection was the choice of music that they played through the headphones. Sedative? Nah, I fell asleep anyway. They had to wake me up. |
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| Reviewed by SOULFUL SHEE G. Pulsing In Passionate Purple PassionS |
3/27/2007 |
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WOW! Karla~
YOU let your mind run awaY on you 4 sureeeee1
Jen ( my daughter) had MRI's often, for shunt problems- maybe children don't have inner fears with them, she was 15yrs and a few times in her early 20's...
If any other time is NEEED! Please know, the exper. is not BAD!
Jen had no issues at all
Your story was told in some amazing details and inner fear, I could feel!
WRiten great!
WArmly,Warrior Lady Sheeeoox
I must read more when I can of your articles/ETc...
P.s. I have Tendonitis and use of my hands/fingers/arm is limited... still going for test - cuz, of my thighs and legs affected with pain on the same side- Who knows! 1 step at a time! Getting old is not FUN! lol
I will change that! :)
I have to make adjustments with the placement of my arms/and my mouse/typing and for driving/etc... |
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| Reviewed by Verica Peacock |
3/24/2007 |
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| An excellent, well written story, Karla! I couldn't wait to read the conclusion. Well done! I look forward to reading another story, as soon as I have time. Love, Verica |
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| Reviewed by Joyce Hale |
2/2/2007 |
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Fantastic write, Karla. Well done!!
Peace. Joyce |
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| Reviewed by Edward Saint-Ivan |
9/30/2006 |
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Outstanding! I laughed my ass off at the funny parts. I was a little nervous before an MRI but once it swallowed me I was OK. If you really want to get SCARED read "The Oasis Syndrome in Literature".
Warning: The Oasis Syndrome in Literature is NOT for the faint of heart! |
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| Reviewed by katie Andrews (Reader) |
3/13/2006 |
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In response to Stephanie Sawyer:
You may have had all fluffy happy thoughts in your MRI's, but I was terrified. I was in seventh grade when I had my first MRI. No one told me not to wear overalls, as the MRI would make all the metal move. All I was told was to wear shorts and my fave pair was the overalls. I was stapped down and slid into this huge thing. My parents were not allowed in the room. And then the metal hooks over my chest started moving. literally. Both clasps moved towards my throat and I was having trouble breathing.
You might disaprove, as it will give people the wrong idea, but I think that this portrayal was damn accurate. And a good job writing Karla.
-Katie |
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| Reviewed by Michael Ault |
7/20/2005 |
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Great ending!
Mike |
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| Reviewed by Stephanie Sawyer |
4/13/2005 |
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| It saddens me that you want to report such a fiction story like this to the public eye. Through all my MRIs, I have had no difficulty whatsoever. I have known they have been for my welfare. I would hope that others are not painted through this story into fear of MRIs. Think of that, because MRIs can be highly useful tests for finding data for corrective measures in many disorders and difficulties. - Stephanie |
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| Reviewed by Barbara Terry |
2/22/2005 |
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OMG girl, what an awful nightmare. I had had three failure attempts at an MRI before I finally was able to suceed. But each time I didn't have any nightmares, just worry that I would choke to death while I was in the machine. I have been told that I am very lucky in many ways. I am not allergic to any medications, I am not allergic or scared of needles (bites her fingernails), I am not claustrophobic, and even tho I do not handle pain very well, I amnot afraid to have surgery, if it is needed. There is a surgery date I will keep sometime in the near future, but no money for it right now tho. May the Lord be with you, and at your side always. With much love, peace, & (((HUGS))), your very dear friend in Wisconsin, and sister in Christ our Lord,
Barbara Lynn Terry
"If I have to...Then I may as well be." |
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| Reviewed by Terry Vinson |
2/23/2004 |
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Karla,
Many's the time during the same procedure did I ponder the horrors of a sudden power failure...and being eternally trapped within that confining pod! Great tale....you have a knack for suspense/horror...keep it up!
Terry |
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| Reviewed by Nickolaus Pacione |
2/22/2004 |
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| This is a creative one, you should bring them all together into one story. I liked this -- and being it has some strong overtones. Reminds me some of Terry's Waiting Room story. |
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| Reviewed by Tinka Boukes |
2/21/2004 |
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Wonderful ending to the Story Karla!!
Love Tinka |
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| Reviewed by William Rogers |
2/20/2004 |
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| good going, Karla. My kind of read. |
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| Reviewed by Kate Clifford |
2/20/2004 |
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| Great ending to your story! |
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| Reviewed by Michelle Kidwell Power In The Pen |
2/20/2004 |
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Excellent write, Mri's are no fun...
God Bless
~Michelle~ |
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| Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado |
2/20/2004 |
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(((Karla)))
No WONDER Wanda hates MRI's; I would too, if I were her! Boy, talk about a never ending nightMARE! the nightmare to END all nightmares! If I have ANY bad dreams about MRI's tongiht, it's YOUR fault! This is one hell of a CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEPY write; VERY GOOD!
(((HUGS))) and much love, your twin, Karen Lynn. :o (this scared the STUFFIN' outta' me!) GREAT job! |
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