So like a month ago my darling angel of a wife volunteered me to move some furniture. No problem, lifting heavy shit is what Lovelace men were made for. In typical Johnny fashion I go full send no warm up or stretches necessary the only problem is something in my elbow is a lazy sack of shit and decides to pop pop and give up on me. So since then my powerful voluptuous arm has been rendered almost completely useless reduced to just eye candy. I tell you all that so I can tell you about today…
After a short hard fought battle with insurance we decided to compromise and them pay none of my MRI. Like an absent father I still needed their approval before I could move on (you can imagine my enthusiasm when they informed me that they were not going to pay anything but totally agree it is necessary) (CIGNA if you’re reading this you suck) Now, thankful for their support I move on and play phone tag with the MRI office for a few days, arm about as useful as a limp spaghetti noodle. We finally connect late yesterday afternoon. At first they were all like we don’t have any openings for like a week fam. But then realized that they have this mini MRI machine just for appendages and can get me in tomorrow morning. Sign me and my wacky waving inflatable flailing arm tube man arm up.
I pull up early cause I’m responsible as hell and walk inside, introduce myself, flash that gorgeous Lovelace smirk to the receptionist, get told the price, shit myself a little, pay up, feel bad cause the only woman I ever hand large sums of money to is my wife, and have a seat. They’ll be right with me, yeah right I think, 10 seconds later “Mr. Lovelace come on back” the technician calls, world record for a Drs office.
I strut on over, introduce myself, flash that ever so charming Lovelace grin and get escorted to the MRI room. Behold the MRI machine. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen an appendage MRI machine but totally underwhelming just a moderate size grey box with a hole in it to stick appendages in (that sounds way dirtier than what I mean to) she helps me get comfortable and I slowly begin to insert my veiny throbbing arm deep into that hole ( ok now that’s dirty, I’m blushing I’ll stop) Ok picture a farmer artificially inseminating a cow, that’s not what it looked like I just wanted you to have that visual in your head, perv. Anyway she leans the chair back puts a pillow under my legs so I’m now in that like zero gravity position on those adjustable beds surrounded by pillows. I’m feeling like a Saudi prince at this point like super comfortable. She goes “yeah this can take quite a while so just try to be still I can play some music if you like cause the machine is kind of loud?” Jokingly I say sure how about some light jazz she laughs and walks out.
So now I’m alone in this room every piece of metal and electronic stripped from my body I am connected only to this machine with my arm shoved shoulder deep into it just kind of looking around awkwardly. Completely disconnected from the world, from distractions,I felt so naked yet so free. I was all alone with just my thoughts and this magical machine. All of the sudden the lights in the room start to dim, the machine kicks on with a dull buzz and a slight constant vibration radiating throughout my torso. There’s a light guitar riff, the bass begins to thump a sweet melody , someone starts tickling the ivories, then there it is that sexy saxophone belts out a somber tune lulling me into a trance like state. She did it, she put on light jazz I couldn’t believe it. As hard as I tried to resist the sirens call that twangy thumping bass was just pulling me in the coup de grace was that sax just belting out all of this raw emotion I was powerless, if I had the ability to move I didn’t want to. My body felt as if I were floating with the subtle vibrations from the machine massaging my weary body and providing a soothing white noise to drown out my thoughts to block out all distractions. All distractions that is except for that smooth light jazz. I was now transported to a cigarette smoke filled night club surrounded by silk shirts bright red lipstick and those long black things women held cigarettes in way back in the day I don’t know what they are called but you know what I’m talking about. Everyone was talking all low and slow saying words like smooth and calling me cat with some guy named smokey playing that ever present sax echoing through my soul. Apparently my subconscious view of jazz music is very one dimensional and cliche and probably not even the right genre I’m kind of an idiot.
Suddenly I’m whisked back to reality. With a jolt my eyes pop open and I look around the room is lit up and the mystical machine is winding down. I’m greeted by the technician “oh you must’ve dozed off” confused I chuckled “yeah” wondering what happened what kind of sorcery did I just experience there was a ripple in the fabric of time I closed my eyes again desperate to go back longing for the sultry sounds to stroke my eardrums once more. Still bewildered (y’know that feeling after you get knocked out and your coming too like everything is hazy and you don’t know what the hell just happened, that was my mindset) she helped me to my feet. As I gathered my belongings I turned and stared one last time at this enchanting device. I walked out feeling like my body had been in a spa all day but my mind only got teased with the most relaxing experience I’d ever felt. I shot some finger pistols at the receptionist and sauntered into the hallway. I had to sit on the bench outside for a few moments to gather my composure and figure out what the hell just happened. The crushing weight of reality came creeping back and firmly sat across my shoulders as I came to the grim realization that it was just a dream.. it was just a dream.
::Fade to black saxophone blaring as the credits roll::
10 of 10 would totally get an MRI done at TOA MRI imaging again very friendly staff. Highly recommend