So today was pre-op, forms and talking to the nurses and a last minute MRI with a barium study. All good, right?

On the MRI form they asked ” are you claustrophobic” and I confidently checked of “no!” Yet when I was laying on that skinny table, covered in a blanket, my shoulders wedged against the shoulder guards, my head closed in with all kinds of foam to keep it still (it’s a neck scan after all) and a face guard down over my face, I started to feel slightly . . . . Hot.

And moments later as the table slid into the tube, I started to panic. As my heart raced and I tried to figure out how to escape my padding, my mask and the tiny tube just a few inches from my body on all sides, that cheery tech’s voice came on through the intercom. “How ya doing? You feeling okay in there?”

Then my voice, breathy and slightly wound up “no! I’m panicking, get me out!”

And the response, as cheery as before . . . . “Great! We’ll get you started then, just remember to stay perfectly still and you can move in 30 minutes.”

I’m laughing now, but then I was crying . . . . I removed myself from the situation and erased the panic by visualizing an entire day in Bundi - which I miss so much. . . . And then I was crying. And crying harder as I started praying for little baby Chase on our team, who is coming home for head scans and other testing to check out his health problems.

So, it’s confirmed, I’m a baby. But even babies need prayer!

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