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Part 9… The Lords Prayer

Years ago I was fortunate enough to help care for a grandparent who was slowly succumbing to cancer. Her primary diagnosis of  adenocarcinoma of the lung would later lead to metastasis of the brain and in a Hail Mary attempt found her receiving weekly radiation. I remember her vividly telling us how uncomfortable she found it laying on the table, having her head strapped into the cage while receiving the “treatment”.  Even with the level of discomfort, she would later explain how many times she could recite the Lords Prayer before the treatment was over. It was her calming way of coping as she endured what would later be a losing battle. 

Here I was day 2 of an inpatient hospitalization after completing the obligatory CT scan filling out the MRI screening form. For those not familiar with the MRI screen form it basically assures that there is no metal in/on your body that the strong magnetic field inside the scanner could play ping ping with. As simple as the form is, I found it rather concerning as I tried to think back to all of the stupid things I had done hoping I had no foreign metal in my body. 

The time finally came and I found myself supine on the thin conforming table. My head being wedged between the head rest and the lovely plastic cage that was lowered within centimeters of my face. For the past few months I had been training to become a volunteer exterior and interior firefighter.  At moments questioning my life decisions when having to don all of the equipment and fit into tight spaces without panicking and hyperventilating. Maybe there was a bigger reason for those life decisions as I found myself controlling the feeling of claustrophobia and panic that started to set in. If the plastic cage nearly kissing your lips isn’t enough, then they squish you into a nice tight tunnel with the instructions not to move. So here I was staring at the white rounded tunnel wearing the tight “football helmet”…reciting the Lords Prayer. 

30 minutes doesn’t seem like a long time to us during a typical day. 30 minutes inside the tunnel of terror is enough time to realize the magnitude of the situation. I was getting my brain scanned in “hopes” of figuring out what mass was taking up residency inside my head. F@CK YOU Brian is NOT part of the Lords Prayer, but it added a nice personal touch. 



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