About a month after my birthday, in May, and before coming down with COVID in early June, I was getting terrible headaches. I wasn’t sure if it was the change in weather, allergies, or pressure in the air. Whatever the case, the headaches didn’t seem to go away so I called my neurologist.
Just as a sidebar, under normal circumstances, I probably would have just let it go but since my sister was suffering headaches prior to her death, I didn’t want to take any chances.
Calling the Neurologist
I called the neurologist on Monday. The neurologist gave me steroids and told me to get an MRI/MRV just to make sure nothing else was going on. She ordered it. I started taking steroids and thought I was feeling better on Wednesday but on Thursday, the headache was back stronger than ever. I called the neurologist again. No one got back to me.
Back and forth with the Insurance company and NYU
I called the insurance company. They told me there was no prescription for the MRV. I called NYU Radiology. They couldn’t figure it out and bounced me around from person to person. I finally ended up with a man who somewhat knew what he was talking about. He put me on hold for nearly 40 minutes trying to straighten it out.
My MRI/MRV was scheduled for Monday in Garden City but I wanted to move it up. I knew what happened to my sister and started having a panic attacks about it.
Finally, I got it straightened out. After that, I tried to switch my appointment to an earlier one. I couldn’t get anything on Long Island but I got one in Manhattan. I figured since I wasn’t feeling well, I would take it.
Driving into Manhattan
It was difficult driving in and out of Manhattan not feeling well and alone. I kept giving myself a pep talk and got through the 2-hour drive.
At NYU Radiology
I was taken right away. I changed and was put in the MRI machine. The banging and the noise were so intense, that it started making my headache worse. I don’t know why they don’t have a better process with those machines. Whatever the case, it was long and loud. At one point, I pushed the button.
Did they forget about me? My brain felt like it was going to explode. I tried to meditate but it was difficult.
“Do you want to stop?” I was asked by the technician in a very low voice.
“How much longer?” I asked.
“Not much,” the technician replied. I told him to keep going. It was such a long drive to get there. I might as well finish this test.
The Contrast
After about 20 minutes or so, I was taken out of the machine. My head was still in place and I couldn’t see what the technician was doing. Suddenly, I felt an oozing feeling. It also started to burn.
Another technician walked in. “Oh my, what did you do?” she asked the technician.
She immediately wrapped my arm and punctured the back of my hand. My arm was throbbing.
Suddenly, I felt myself slipping away. The numbness traveled up my legs into my body, arms, hands, neck, and face. I told the technician I needed to sit up for my blood to circulate. I was feeling myself slip away.
One of the technicians took the contraption off my head and gave me some water. The only thing I felt was the throbbing on my arm, everything else felt numb.
“I’m going to throw up,” I said and with that, the technician grabbed a bucket.
“You’re having a reaction to the contrast,” the technician said. I wasn’t. I was having a reaction to my blown-out vein. It was throbbing.
I started to feel myself come back to life.
“Okay, let’s do this,” I said and with that, the technician put the helmet back on my head and slipped me into the MRI machine for another 10 minutes or so of banging.
When it was over, it took me a few moments to get up. I got dressed slowly and walked out the door feeling dizzy and tingling. The technicians sent me on my way with a hot pack for my vein.
Thankfully, the MRI was normal!
P.S. If anyone has a good headache doctor, let me know!
