"Running Commentary"

As The Brain Turns

    Season 1, Episode 2 … When we left off last week, our gallant and dashing local luminary – yes, that daring-do newspaper columnist – was preparing to undergo an MRI. Medical professionals and his treating physician said something was wrong, and an MRI scanning his brain would likely reveal the problem.
The MRI should determine whether Michael’s temporary loss of vision resulted from a brain tumor affecting his optic nerve, or something far more serious – the absence of any bells in his belfry.
If the MRI showed that Michael lacked gray matter between his ears, his loss of eyesight could be explained medically.  Michael’s biggest fear? That his Philadelphia Eagles would lose a game that very same weekend. Stay tuned for tonight’s riveting conclusion …

But first, a word from our sponsors … Tonight’s program is brought to you by … The Center For Disease Control, urging ALL Kansans to GET A FRIGGIN’ VACCINE.  And our presenting sponsor … “DiaperBoys” – absorbent briefs, designed specially for the old geezer in your family scared witless over a medical procedure. Disposable and worry-free!  DiaperBoys are guaranteed to eliminate embarrassing leaks in all the wrong places. Be safe, not sorry!  (CUE JINGLE)  “In-con-tin-ence  never felt sooo good!”  

(CUE INTRO MUSIC … “If I Only Had A Brain” …)

    Friday Evening, 7:30 pm … Lights! Action!  As the camera zooms in, Michael sits alone in his study. The room is warmly lit from the glow of a solitary Tiffany lamp. A glass of Pinot Noir sits on a nearby table. Michael contemplates his future … or lack thereof.
Is Michael scared witless over the MRI? Do bears poop in the woods? Hell yeah!
When his sister was the same age, she had a similar problem with her vision. An MRI disclosed a softball-sized growth pinching against her optic nerve. Without brain surgery, she would eventually go blind. The parallels are unnerving. Something silent and foreboding lurked in Michael’s study – and this time, it wasn’t Mickey Mouse.
(Spoiler Alert: Mickey died in an earlier episode.)
    Saturday night, 6:15 pm … The Philadelphia Eagles are playing the Dallas Cowboys. The game is a welcome distraction from the MRI scheduled the next day. The Eagles will lose. Why? Because they are playing third-string scrubs, resting their best players for the playoffs. The Cowboys are playing their first-string. It isn’t a fair fight. Cowboys win. Final score? 124-3.
    Sunday afternoon, 12:05 pm … Michael drives to the hospital. He tries to think positively – he’s had a great life. Worry and stress free! Until now.
He has a lovely home, two great dogs and good teeth, the latter courtesy of an old girlfriend who was an oral surgeon. Michael treated her to romantic dinners at the best restaurants in Philadelphia. She treated him to the best dental care east of the Missouri River.
    Sunday afternoon, 12:15 pm … If you’ve never had an MRI, the machine is HUGE. You lay down with a lighted facemask over your head and are told not to move for 45 minutes. While you lie still, deafening noises crash around your head, as the machine takes pictures of your brain.
    The procedure begins …
    BANG, BANG, BANG!! … Whirrrrrr … POP … BANG … Whirrrrrrrr … WHACK … WHACK … BEEEEEP BEEEEEEEEEP … Whirrrr.  POP! POP! POP! … BANG! … Whirrrrrrr … POP!!!
The noise continues throughout the testing. As Michael silently counts down the minutes remaining in his life, he thinks to himself, “I have perfect teeth. This shouldn’t be happening to me!”
    Sunday afternoon, 12:50 pm … The test is over. Despite his claustrophobia, Michael managed to lie still the entire time. He half-expected a lollipop for his good behavior. No such luck --  you have to be 12 and under. DANG! Missed the cut-off by 63 years.
    Monday, afternoon, 4:30 pm … Nurse Ratched calls Michael with his MRI results. Background music stops. The tension is palpable. Almost unbearable.
Ratched reports: “No tumor.”
    “WHAT? ARE YOU SERIOUS?”
Yep! The MRI was normal. Nothing appeared to explain temporary loss of vision.
    “What about a brain?” Michael asks. “Do I have one or not?”
    Ratched says, “Yep.”  However, she can’t say whether it’s in good working order. “That’s not something we tested. You need a shrink for that.”
    Michael is elated. He’s ALIVE! And …
    He has a BRAIN!
    
Epilogue … The basics in my silly story are factual. I’m a bleepin’ lab rat. In the past 10 days, I’ve been poked, prodded, stuck, injected, dejected and rejected, attempting to find what caused my loss of eyesight. Despite every test imaginable, including an EKG, CT Scan, MRI, Ultrasound, and Eye Exams – nothing was found that explains why I’ve had several episodes. It’s the great unknown.
    Temporary loss of vision isn’t funny. So, why crack jokes about it? Because humor is a wonderful mechanism for coping when you’re afraid. And indeed, I have been more than a little worried this past week. Mostly due to my sister’s experience.
The failure to find anything was a huge letdown. I seem to have “something” going on upstairs, but nothing points to the source.  My solution?  I’m over it!  Done! No more worrying. Wasted energy. I’m going back to being my oblivious, silly self.
P.S. I have no need for diapers.
Not yet anyway.

Note:  Michael welcomes reader comments:  Rmyklo@gmail.com