I’m not claustrophobic. I’ve had MRIs before. But once inside I feel like I’m a 1/2 inch from batshit crazy. My brother Mike is claustrophobic. I found out when we were kids on a forced family fun camping trip to South Dakota where it was 110 degrees. We were in the playground crawling through a plastic tube. Half way through I stopped. He was having a meltdown using every swear word he knew. And I was laughing. That was our relationship back then, arch enemies. So today I had an MRI of my neck and this was the conversation in my mind:

“Open your eyes.”

“WHAT? Hell no.”

“You know you want to.”

“Nope. Not gonna do it”

OPENS EYES

“God Dammit. My nose is touching”

“You’re gonna die in here”

“It’s a medical device”

“It’s hard to breathe. They shut off the air”

“I’m doing fine”

DEEP BREATHING EXERCISES

“No one will find you”

“They’ll see my Berks sticking out”

“I think the electricity just shut off”

“I’m fine. Mike, is that you?”

“Remember South Dakota?

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