Fried Fish???

The Donor Diaries episode 2! - The thrills and spills continue!

Today marked the first day of my month long test-scan-poke-and-prod-arama all in honour of my lovely liver and its slice and dice-ability. In order to get things going on an exciting note, the Gods of live organ donation decided it would be best to start me off with a bang and booked me into the UBC hospital for an MRI. For those of you who don't know what an MRI is, it's when they squeeze you into a tiny little tube a la Space Odyssey and make you lie there while they zap you with mageto super rays and somehow magnetically check your innards. A lot of people freak out in MRIs because they feel claustrophobic squished into the tube but considering I have squished myself into equally small spaces under 20 meters of water I actually felt quite alright (as long as I kept my eyes closed). But of course the Princess is never one to let her fans down so in order to keep up my reputation for the unexpected, my issues were a bit more out of the ordinary. When the appointment was booked I received a frantic call (in Thailand) from the MRI people (in Canada) asking me about my tattoo - How big was it? What colour was it? Where were the dyes from? How old is it?...on and on and on. As it turns out, MRIs and inked people don't get along too well (kinda like fanatical Christians and inked people, or overprotective fathers and inked people [of the boyfriend genre]) . The magnetic rays sometimes start to suck the metal alloys out of the dyes (and consequently the top layers of your skin) or start the molecules vibrating against each other so quickly that the skin burns. 

Today's" fish of the day" is a lovely fried
Japanese koi with cherry blossom
garnish.

So, ever since that phone call I've been dreading this day worried that my lovely Napoleon (as I've affectionately named him) would become the "poisson du jour" and end up crispy fried or poached rather than his usual vibrant self. Luckily, my visions of a bad episode of "House" where the guy in the MRI is pulled out screaming and melting for reasons unknown were unfounded and me and Napoleon survived unscathed. I also had to remove all my piercings in order to avoid my many rings magnetically ejecting from my skin and shooting across the room like punk rock shrapnel. On the down side, I did have to listen to 103.5 QmFM soft rock radio on the headset for the entire session. I think the sounds of Whitney Houston and Celine Dion bubbled up more anxiety in me than the claustrophobia and fear of being the next item on the "fish of the day" menu combined.  
So anyway, after 40 minutes in the magnetic tube of mysteries, myself, Napoleon and my liver have emerged to face another day and another barrage of tests. Next stop, Vancouver General Hospital on Thursday for a lovely set of blood tests, a thrilling chest xray (oooh la la!) and the always exciting ECHO cardiogram (and no, that is not some kind of new fandangled echo/singing "gram" you can send to your favorite girl or boy to express the love deep within your cardio...(ha see that! Cardio = heart!...oh so clever indeed!)


Alright, it's mindnight and my jokes are getting lame so it's clearly time to sign off. Tomorrow I'm off the Peace Arch hospital for an appointment for mom. I wonder if hospitals have frequent flyer cards? 20 trips to the hospital and you get a free set of surgical gloves? Joy ride in the wheelchairs? Kiss the cute young Asian nurse? (who have to be mostly male and mostly straight) discount on your jello? 
I could be on to something here...


Cheers from the magnetic field
J