Spring and the Snow Moon

Wanted to capture this while fresh. Drove into Leetsdale Ave near Cherry Creek in Denver. Right at the boundary of the largest Jewish community in Colorado. But I wasn’t there for religious reasons, I needed an MRI of my lumbar spine and Open-Sided MRI has its clinic there.

After time in an iron lung, which I do not remember, my body will not let my head be confined. At all. Ever. Traditional MRI’s therefore are out. Long metal tube, human insert. Face inches from the tube’s top. Nope.

So. Open-Sided. Though. When the sled slid under the projection of the magnetic circle, I looked up, found metal inches from my face. “I can’t do this.”

Chris pulled me back out. How about if you look to the side. I tilted my head to the left and there an opening appeared. But I was already scared. “I’m not sure.”

“I’ll get Audra and she can sit with you.”

A measure of serendipity. I’d talked to Audra on the phone Monday and discovered she had moved to Conifer last October. She had a quick wit and kindness in her voice. We agreed to swap stories of best spots to eat when I got there. A charming woman in her late 30’s, early 40’s I found her delightful at check-in, too.

Audra came in and held my hand for the entire 20 minutes of the exam. At first, still nervous, I looked her in the eyes and she pressed her thumb against my left hand which she held in her right.

After a while the odd noises of the MRI, which sounded like House music, and her comfort helped me relax. I closed my eyes.

A long twenty minutes. But, when it was done, I collected my disc with the scan on it, went out to the front desk and thanked Audra, back at her computer, again. She put my chai necklace back on.

I thought, decided to go ahead. “My wife died four years ago. That was the longest I’ve been touched since then. Regardless of the help I needed with the MRI, I wanted to say thanks for that, too.”

A sweet moment.