Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world.

Special Treat – Sharon Bryant

February 25, 2008

Terror In The Tunnel

 Sharon Bryant

Many times we have heard of people with various types of phobias.  I personally have a dreadful fear of crossing over bridges.  To someone who has never experienced such a fear, trying to explain how that fear affects someone is not always easy to do.

Tonight I was told a story.  One that I know was a nightmare to the woman who told it to me.  Only because I understand exactly what she described to me.

She is severely claustrobic.  She cannot sleep with a blanket or anything covering her face.  She cannot tolerate going into tunnels.  And she cannot tolerate having that "closed in feeling" of small spaces.

Last year she began having back problems.  The pain got worse and heart problems began.  She went to a doctor who told her she had to have an MRI.

Not knowing what exactly to expect having this procedure done, she scheduled the day for the test and asked if it was an open MRI.  She was told no it was not.

The doctor took her into a consultation room and explained the process of an MRI.   She would lay down on her back on a table that worked like a conveyor belt and be taken into a tunnel shaped machine.  She thought, "Well, that's not so bad."

She told me when she got into the room with the MRI machine, she was looking at a cream colored contraption that had a conveyor belt on one end, then a huge tunnel, and she could see the light at the other end of the tunnel.  She said the machine looked like something from an alien movie.   Her procedure was going to take approximately 45 to 50 minutes.

 He explained that both ends of the machine were 'open,' and at her feet cool air would blow and circulate from the foot end of this contraption.

"Let's get started," the doctor said.  "

She told him she was claustrophobic and didn't like closed in spaces.  He informed her she'd do just fine.

She began her story:

"He told me to lay down on the conveyor belt and he handed me a pillow.

He said my feet would go in first, then slowly the rest of my body would enter the machine.

He forgot to tell me how small the huge tunnel was once you got inside of it.

I told him I get panic attacks when I'm enclosed.  The time my kids closed my closet door and locked me in and they wouldn't let me out, I became a screaming maniac,"  she explained. 

She then told him about the time she was stuck in an elevator.  She had to push the emergency button and was 'walked through' her panic attack by a police officer.  She told him she felt like she was suffocating.

The doctor told her having an MRI was not like getting stuck on an elevator.

He told her she was going to be just fine.  Again, he said, "Let's get started."

"Lay down on the belt, tuck your hands up against your body and relax," the doctor told her.  "You will feel air flowing around you inside the tunnel blowing from your feet," he explained.  "Do not move at all."  "You can blink but no matter what, do not move your body at all."

"I got on the conveyor belt, the little pillow under my head.  My feet were in the center of the belt, my arms were tucked up tight against my body.  The doctor disappeared out the door. 

"I told him to give me a minute.  I took several deep breaths.  On the other side of the door, the doctor said, 'Are you ready?'  I replied, 'I think so.'"

"I heard him say, 'Ok, I'm going to start it now."

"The belt moved slowly.  I kept my eyes open as I saw my shoes enter the tunnel.  I watched as my knees entered.  Then my waist.  Then my boobs.  I was looking with my eyes from side to side knowing my head was getting closer to that tunnel.  Closer.....closer.....and I screamed STOP, STOP, STOP!"

The doctor stopped the belt, and backed it up.  My heart was pounding, I was sweating profusely.

I said, "You didn't tell me that thing was going to be 3 inches from my face."

"What's the matter?" the doctor asked me.  "I didn't realize the tube or tunnel was so close to your body.  I can't do this.  I just can't do this," I told him.

"Just take your time," he said.

"I sucked in my breath, took several long deep breaths and waited for my heart to stop beating so fast, and then I said, "Ok."

"About 20 seconds passed and he asked me if I was ready again.  I told him to wait a minute.  He told me to close my eyes and think of something nice or pretty.  All I could think of was that I was alive, lying in a coffin and someone was going to throw dirt on top of me.   I told the doctor I could do it until it got near my head then the panic began.  He told me to just relax, everything was going to be ok."

"Again the conveyor belt started.  I tried to close my eyes but they popped back open.  I saw my feet enter the tunnel as before.  Then my legs, knees, hips, waist, chest, then my neck was next.  I could feel the air.  As the belt sucked me into the tunnel and got to my chin, I couldn't breathe again.  My heart started racing again and I began to sweat instantly.  I could feel the sweat running from my hair down the sides of my face.  It was a horrible feeling.  I again yelled STOP, STOP!

"I'm so sorry, I'm really sorry but get me out of here," I yelled out into the room.

The doctor stopped the machine then entered the room again.

"Get me OUT of here, I've got to get out of this thing right NOW," I told him.

He backed me out of the tunnel for the second time.

"Put me out," I told him.  He said he couldn't do that.  I asked, "Can't you give me something that will relax me?"   He told me no, he couldn't do that.  "Just take your time, we have to get through this," he said.  "I have to take pictures."

I told him I KNEW we had to do it, but I was having problems.

"Once you get all the way into the machine, you're going to hear noises that are sort of loud.  It will sound like a machine gun going off," he said.   "Oh wonderful," I thought to myself.  Just what I need right now.

I still didn't know HOW I was going to get my head inside the tunnel.  I didn't think the sound of machine guns would be as bad as trying to get my head inside the tunnel.  I told him the noise wouldn't bother me.

"By now another 10 minutes had passed.  He got me settled down again.  All my vitals were back to normal.  My heart beat slowed down, I stopped sweating and I kept sucking in those deep breaths.  Finally I said, "I'm ready, let's do this."

He started the belt up again.  Again I watched my feet, knees, hips, waist, then my chest go into the tunnel.  I tried to close my eyes as my head was getting close to the entrance of the machine. 

Suddenly they just popped back open all by themselves.  All I could see was the white wall, white ceiling that was only about three inches from my face.

I tried to concentrate on the flow of the air and I kept talking to myself.

I said, "Maria, you CAN do this.  You HAVE to do this!"

He started the test as I was staring at the too close white ceiling.  It was too close, just too close to my poor body.  I felt like I was in a coffin again.  I felt like I was sealed tight and though I was alive, I again thought of dirt being thrown in on me.

He had told me the first part of the test would take 30 minutes and another 10 to 15 minutes to end it all.  He said he'd let me know when we reached the 30 minute mark.

So there I was, the third time trying to get this test done.  The sound of machine guns started.

Suddenly my heart started racing and the sweat poured off my face.  I was getting chest pains this time.  I began to feel nauseated.  On top of all this, I began to cry uncontrolably.  Tears were pouring out of my eyes.  I couldn't control them.  I yelled as loud as I could, "STOP THIS MACHINE!"

When the doctor came out of the room he had been in he just shook his head and said, "I don't think we can do this.  You've got it bad!"

"Claustropia?" I asked him.

He said yes that he'd never seen anyone with such a bad case of it as I had.

"I just don't think this is going to work for you."

I told him PLEASE don't give up on me yet.  "I need this test and I KNOW I've got to go through this.  Let's try it again, just one more time."

"What can I do to help?" he asked.  I told him the tunnel should have been made bigger for one thing and managed to crack a smile at him.

"So what can I do to get you back inside of it?" he asked again.

I asked him if he had any suggestions.  He said most people close their eyes and keep them closed and they make it ok.

"You just tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it," he said.

"Do you have a wet wash cloth?"  He answered yes.

"Can I take my shoes off and my socks?"  He said, "You can do ANYTHING you want."

I wanted to tell him I would prefer to be naked, that it would be easier for me, but I didn't.  I felt too closed in with all my clothes and shoes and socks on.  Again, the feeling of being inside a casket with the lid being closed and locked tight.

It took fifteen minutes for me to calm down and stop crying.  Then bingo, I felt I was ready again.  My vitals were almost normal again, the sweating stopped and I had stopped crying and I was calming down.  I kept talking to myself, still breathing deeply and slowly.

He asked me AGAIN, "Are you ready?"

I asked for another minute or so to gather my thoughts.

You would have thought after this many times, the doctor would have given up.  But he was patient.  And kind.  And though I knew I must have looked like a lunatic to him, he seemed to understand and remained so compassionate.

I told him I believed I needed to focus and I asked if it were possible for him NOT to talk to me.  He laughed and said, "I'll do anything you want."

I gathered my thoughts and said a prayer asking God to help me get through this test.

I told God that I believed if I could focus on HIM and not lose my focus on my concentration, I would be able to get through it.

I slowly turned around and prepared to go back into that contraption AGAIN.  As I laid down I began to pray and focus on angels and God and heaven, Bible verses and all good things.

I told the doctor, "The least amount of words that you speak to me, the better for you."

"You can go, I'm ready," I finally told him.

He proceeded out the door again and started the belt.  It was so quiet.  My eyes closed, the wet wash cloth was over my face, my feet were bare and I had pulled my arms in as close to my body as I could so they wouldn't touch the sides of the tunnel.

Thirty minutes into the test I heard the doctor softly say, "The first 30 minutes are over.  It won't be long now."

He did very well not to speak any more words than that and I still continued to focus as I laid under the mammoth machine on that conveyor belt as my mind sang church songs to God.

With the sound of machine guns shooting off inside that machine, I still remained calm.  Then five minutes before the test was up, the doctor started talking to me.  In my mind I was fighting to keep my concentration on God and not on where I was.  But he wouldn't stop talking.

Five more minutes to go and my heart started racing again.  I began to instantly feel nauseated and getting that warm feeling but not sweating yet.  That five minutes felt like five hours to me.

I heard him count down......."Two minutes to go......one minute.......30 seconds........I'm coming in there now."

I yelled out, "HURRY, HURRY!"

Within seconds he came into the room and the conveyor belt started moving backwards.

Suddenly my head popped out into the open room and I was FREE.

The doctor had a smile on his face and said, "YOU DID IT!"

I told him by the skin of a cat.

I explained the feelings and emotions that I felt inside that contraption.  He took my vitals and said my heart was racing really fast but he said, "It's over now.  You can relax."

He rolled his eyes around in his head and I knew he was thinking, "Good Lord, am I glad this woman is out of here!"

Since I had no shoes or socks on, I jumped off that belt, grabbed my shoes and socks up and ran out of that room barefooted.  The cold floor felt so good.  It felt normal.  I was finally FREE!

"I will NEVER ever in this lifetime have another MRI done again, unless I'm unconscious. 

That's the only way they're ever going to get me inside one of those things again.

For someone who does not have a problem with claustrophobia, I guess it won't be a problem for them.

But for me who IS claustrophobic, it is a nightmare."

As my friend told me this story, I could only picture in my head the whole scene happening.  She had me laughing so hard I had tears running down my face.

If and when I ever need a MRI, I have no idea how I will deal with it.  I don't like being closed in either.  I know what those attacks feel like when I get near a bridge.

Sharon Bryant