Gary and I went for his MRI / MRA today. The MRA is evidently to check his brain arteries. I needed to drive because he can't drive during the day anymore. The light seeps into his brain and saps his strength, poor guy.
You should hear our house in the morning. "I can see the sun coming up! It's almost dawn! I gotta get out of here before it's light." Like living with a vampire.
We showed up at the big building at St. Johns marked MRI, exactly where we had been told to go, behind the David C. Pratt Cancer Center. A few minutes in we were told we were at the wrong building.
"Oh. Should we be at the David C Pratt building then?" I asked.
"Yes," the nurse said, "The David C.Pratt CANCER Center."
So we drove to the building with the CANCER sign. I checked with that nurse that we were in the right place, because no one here has CANCER.
"Yes, the David C. Pratt CANCER Center; that's right."
While we waited, Fredbird showed up with a replica of the World Series trophy. Gary nudged me and said, "That must be for the kids with CANCER -"
"STOP TALKING ABOUT CANCER!" I almost screamed. I didn't. Because it might have upset the bald people getting chemo in the next room I could see out of the corner of my eye.
So, evidently they keep the high-tech special Migraine MRIs in the CANCER building, probably because St. John's doesn't have a special Migraine building.
Yeah, yeah, that's right. No one here has cancer. Because you don't have cancer until they recommend you see an oncologist.