A Word Of Advice: Don’t Drink The Night Before Getting An MRI On Your Head

I’ll be the first to admit that I make a lot of stupid decisions in my day to day life. Whether it be placing risky bets on meaningless games or repeatedly hitting the snooze button on the morning of something important, sometimes I make rash decisions without thinking them and their consequences through

Today, those faulty thinking practices lead to me me having one of the worst experiences of my life, and that isn’t an exaggeration. I underwent torture this morning, and it didn’t happen at an ISIS compound or some sadistic kidnapper’s basement; it happened at a doctor’s office.

So what happened exactly? Well to put it simply, I drank a lot last night like an idiot, woke up with a bad hangover, and then had to lay there in agony while I got a brain MRI this morning

To most people it would seem pretty self-explanatory to relax the night before something like a brain MRI, but I’m not most people. Like I said before, I make bad decisions all the time, so why not make one more?

I think I’ve mentioned it on here before, but I’ve been getting pretty bad headaches for a few months now completely out of the blue, and that is why I was scheduled for this MRI in the first place. My doctor said I should probably get one on my head to “Make sure I’m not dying”. I swear to God she said that. Although my doctor is cool and I knew she was joking around, that’s a pretty fucked up thing to hear from a doctor in relation to mysterious headaches. Regardless of the professionalism, I agreed with her. Believe it or not, I also wanted to make sure I wasn’t dying, so I went out into the lobby to book my appointment.

Apparently they only do MRIs in the morning at this place, so convenience-wise my hands were tied, and the only appointment I could get was this morning at 9:45 AM. There was Thursday Night Football and a Sox/Yanks game on last night, and when you combine that with the brutal day I had at work, I didn’t really stand a chance of staying sober. Alcohol was calling my name like a mythical siren, and despite promising myself I was gonna take it easy, watching The Red Sox clinch the division plus an awful Jets/Browns game lead to me staying up late and getting drunk out of my mind.

Which brings me into this morning. I woke up with one of those hangovers where you just know the whole day is going to suck the second you open your eyes. The sound of silence was too loud to bear, and I could barely remember my own name as I sat down in the shower and let the water rain over me. With bags under my eyes, a pounding headache, and a stomach ready to release its contents at any given moment, I defied the odds and made it to my 9:45 appointment in one piece. Yeah I felt rough, but I kept telling myself, “How bad can an MRI be?”. Famous last words, and the next half hour of my life would be the least favorite 30 minutes I’ve ever had.

I don’t know if you’ve ever gotten an MRI on the upper half of your body before, but they strap you down to a table and put you into a giant tube. Here’s what the machine looks like for reference

MRI stands for Magnetic Resonance Imaging, and basically it takes really detailed pictures of whatever part of the body you need checked out. I don’t know how the science behind these machines, but what I do know is that they make extremely loud noises, move back and forth, and even vibrate sometimes while capturing these images. Loud noise and sudden movement aren’t exactly ideal for a hangover, but I remained optimistic and thought it would still be a piece of cake. After all, I’ve been hungover and gone out and done things thousands of times before, so why would this be any different?

They gave me earplugs, but they must have been defective or something because I heard every second of it. Ear amplifiers would have been a more fitting name. Sure there’s always the possibility that I put them in wrong or something, but for the sake of this blog, I’m gonna blame this on the earplugs instead of my own possible user error

So there I was, encased in this giant tube and trying to stay completely still while a series of deafeningly loud beeps and vibrations pierced through my head like a bad barber. It sounded and felt like I was in the front row at an EDM concert, but the show was being headlined by a DJ that needs a lot more practice. I thought about pressing the panic button they gave me multiple times, but my momma didn’t raise no bitch, so I toughed it out as best I could

Now that I think back, it sort of felt like I got abducted by aliens and they were doing experiments on me. I mean think about it: I was strapped down to a table, put into a giant machine, there were bright lights and weird beeping noises. Sounds like a UFO to me. Thankfully an anal probe wasn’t one of these experiments, and the aliens erased my memory and transported back down to the doctor’s office right as the aid come back in the room to tell me it was over

Although it was tough, I made it through the full 30 minute MRI, which might as well have been 30 years because that’s what it felt like at the time. After it was over, I immediately B lined it to the bathroom and violently puked like a bulimic teenager after a big dinner. Talk about a great start to my day

I’ve been miserable plenty of times while recouperating from a night of hitting the sauce too hard, but this was without a doubt the worst experience I’ve ever had while hungover. I don’t mean to belittle the condition or anything, but I honestly think I might have some minor form of PTSD from what I experienced this morning. If I ever find myself in a tight space and hear beeping noises, this is gonna be me

And that’s that. Just thought I’d share my misery with you guys because you should never let perfectly good suffering go to waste. Everybody loves laughing at the pain of others, so you’re welcome for sharing

Here’s my final reminder to you all: DO NOT drink the night before getting an MRI, CAT Scan, or anything like that. If you make the same mistake I did and you wake up hungover, just do yourself a favor and cancel the appointment. Trust me

And lastly, here’s to hoping I don’t have a brain tumor or something awful like that. Thoughts and prayers for yours truly, Chuck Taylor, and have a good Friday night everybody

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@ BoozeBlogsChuck

23 comments

  1. Oh no! Must admit I did giggle at your retelling if the tragic incident. What did you drink? I guess it was beer? Some drinks would’ve allowed you to get away with it more than others. (I have spent an inordinate amount of time studying which drinks give better and worse hangovers.) Hope the results of the scan help to fix the headaches.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Chuck, mate, you’ve just massively cheered me up. I gotta go in for an mri this Sunday. Evening, which is worse as got the whole day to look forward to it. I get claustrophobic in tents n carwashes. I’m anxious about being anxious. Panicking about panicking. I’ve even asked someone to ask someone if someone could get me some substance – anything really – to render the entire florescent, coffin on a building site experience inexperienced. I also know I’ll be hitting the red wine hard as usual Saturday, but my cunning truck is always to start drinking mid afternoon in order to stop earlier. Unfortunately that’s just on a work day so weekends to be fair start just after an early morning fag n a string coffee with 2 dessert spoons of sugar, so usually napping nicely be mid afternoon to be honest. But mate (as we say to total strangers (for various reasons to complex to divert to here) in England) you have so cheered me up. You’re so right, it’s so great to know there’s someone out there who’s an even bigger, endearingly hopeless, committed f*** up than oneself … um … is. I know I will be lying there in that fear inducing tube, thinking about you n smirking silently to myself, hopefully in a stationery kind of way. I really will. Really. Thanks mate. Seriously. If you can do it I sure as hell can. Ahahahahaha!! 🤔😱😎🤗 Katie xx
    Ps dunno if emojis work on here. If they turn into something strange I guess not.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Hey Katie, I’m glad I could help! I’m a pretty anxious person too, and have trouble sitting still on planes and crowded places like that, but the MRI isn’t that bad. If I wasn’t so deathly hungover, it would have been a piece of cake I think. Plus, it’s refreshing knowing that you’re getting it done for something important, and that will help you power through it. Good luck, and I hope you’re drinking some victory wine after it’s all over. I’m gonna adopt your UK slang and say that comments like this massively cheer me up 😂

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      • Haha!! Thanks Chuck. I hope that things turned out well for you following your scan. I’ll deffo read some more of your posts too a) to maybe find out n b) because you made me laugh (rare) n decide to get over myself. Never forget – all you need is string coffee n a cunning truck to be inexperienced when smirking at envelopes – something we strive to achieve this side of the pond as envelopes are no laughing matter – and that has nothing whatsoever to do with typos …. Lol! Laters 😎 Katie xx

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  3. Also, unfortunately happened on some research this morning about BRAND NEW, high powered MRI machines ripping people’s metal crowns out of their face at high speed, or burning them. Apparently this only happens on the BRAND NEW ones but there’s been a 500% increase in these “incidents” in your neck of the woods I think between 2002 or something up to 2009. Even with old machines you can’t have wheelchairs, IV poles, stretchers etc in the room cos they’re whizzed at high speed onto the scanner due to the magnetic force. Anyway, my appointment at the Big City Hospital got changed a couple of days ago to one on the outskirts, in the sticks – a “Community” hospital no less. I was only ringing to check about the crown – gold’s ok apparently, mine’s gold coloured but definitely not gold – n got through miraculously to a radiologist at the big city hospital. She didn’t actually say it was fine, she just said she’d worked at the city scanner for 30 years n “there’s never been a problem”. So I’m like “So 100% there’s nothing to worry about?” She, again “We’ve never had a problem”. Not quite the same thing. But anyway, thought I’d just also ask why my appointment got transferred to the smaller hospital. Turns out the dear old no problem scanner at the city BROKE a few days ago. Fine. So I’m like “Is the scanner at this other place as good?” She said “Oh yes, don’t worry. IT’S BRAND NEW.”

    Fs. You couldn’t make it up. Let’s just hope the community hospital can only afford a slightly crap, old school low powered one. If I never text you again, you can assume I got shot in the head by my own f****** fake gold crown. And I won’t be around to tell them “I TOLD YOU!”

    Anyway, yeah, valium has been procured. I’m going for it. I don’t even know why I need one cos they know what’s up (not life threatening) n can’t offer me anything other than the treatment they’re offering me already so what’s the point? Bah! But yes I’m grateful etc etc. Over n out for sure for now. Kxx

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  4. To be honest Chuck, n I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, well I do – because I can n it’s helping me think it through n be real about it – I think I’m gonna cancel. Nothing to do with you, obviously, n don’t worry I’ve got friends n family round me, but as well as the fact they can’t change my treatment regardless of what the scan says, the broken scanner, the brand new scanner n the getting shot in the head by the crown issue I have a history of strange experiences with electricity. For example: Once a good friend n brilliant singer persuaded me against my better judgement to accompany him on the keyboard at a performance. Just me and him, so he’d be relying on me. I love playing but I hate performing. The music was complicated – 3 pieces – but I agreed to do it. Came to the night I was so nervous like I knew I’d be. Got on the stage before the audience came in n there was a beautiful 2 grand (£) electric piano, weighted keys everything. I stood there n pressed one key with one finger n blew the entire circuit board. Kaput. Heard afterwards it was irreparable. Now you could say that was coincidence, n I would be more than happy to agree it could be. But I just think as well we don’t understand everything about energy – of the mind, of the body, of the planet, of all living things and that made by humans. So, on balance, call me a coward or call me naturally cautious or don’t call me anything at all which I think you won’t cos I reckon you’re a fair person – yeah – I’m not doing it. And I’m happy with that decision. Crikey. Soz mate for forcing you to read all this purely out of the fact that I’m posting on your blog. But thanks Chuck for letting me ramble on n these are just the decisions I’ve come to after weighing it all up. I look forward to shutting up on this subject now. Katie xx

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    • To each their own. I have heard stories about MRI machines doing strange things to people if you don’t disclose to them that you have some type of device in you or something like that. A friend of mine has her nipples pierced and almost forgot to take them out before she got an MRI, and I assume that would have gone bad lol. But like you said if the results aren’t gonna change the treatment anyway, then who cares. I got mine done because they thought I might have a brain tumor (which I thankfully didn’t) but obviously I had some motivation behind getting it done. Best of luck Katie, and if you do change your mind, remember not to drink before it like I did!

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      • Final Update re MRI Scenarios

        Dear Chuck,

        Pretty great you don’t have a brain tumour. I hope you’re okay n don’t have to contend with the dreadful headaches anymore. Also good your friend didn’t get her nipples ripped off. That would have been seriously upsetting.

        So …. having done a bit too much online research, indulged my neuroticism, overactive imagination n lack of trust, taken into account my claustrophobia n obvious superpowers, n seriously pissed off my son by saying I wasn’t doing it …. I woke up Sunday morning n decided I couldn’t face the loss of face (hopefully not physical) n I was doing it.

        Didn’t have a glass of wine, didn’t take the valium. Walked in the room calmly n it was actually quite a beautiful thing. Bathed in bright yet warm light, pretend backlit window pictures of sunlit trees on the wall, n a skylight of pretend blue sky. Like a caravan in the waiting room of paradise almost if it was in a theme park. Fake but you appreciated the effort.

        So yeah, I’d committed so I was calm as. They slid me in to midway cos it’s my eyes, n I opened them on the way in out of curiosity then kept them shut the whole time. Like my mate said if you like Gabba (music) you won’t mind the noise, n to be fair there were a few duelling electro bass rythmns on certain sweeps that I got into. I cdnt have lied any stiller or more peacefully if I was dead. I also thought of you, n I was like “Chuck would be proud of me.” Lol!!!

        So yeah, thanks so much Chuck for letting me talk to you. It really helped me go to the extreme then come back. I really appreciate it.

        Katie xxx

        Liked by 1 person

      • Glad I could help, and proud that you pushed through it even though every instinct was telling you not to do it. Sky is the limit, and I hope your results are useful

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  5. Sky is the limit is an interesting concept. In this short film I guess. If there were no eyes to see it or space n time to experience or appreciate it – what would the sky be Chuck, n what would be the point of it? If there is no point to anything, what is the point? Ahahahahaha! Big up mate. No more posts on this topic. Can’t promise there won’t be more on others, but let’s make a pact right now that you are under no obligation to respond. Because I’m good mate. N I hope you are. Big love. Katie xx

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  6. Ps: Remember I told you I fried the circuit board on that classy electric piano? Or at least at the exact time as I touched it it fried itself? There was also n after that a really crap, cheap, no weighted keys keyboard found on the side of the stage. The audience were arriving.
    It was set up n I played it. Almost impossible to get a decent feel n run on, but I did it. I played all 3 of those pieces like a freak paralyzed rabbit in the headlights on a 3 year old toddler’s secondhand hand made xylophone. But we got to the end of the songs, he sang them, beautifully in spite of me, n I didn’t let him down because I didn’t walk away n I did my best on that shit keyboard. Just sayin.

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  7. Thanks Chuck for not responding. Even though we’re anonymous n live in different countries, I do realise that this current correspondence should come to an end. It’s been fun, n good for me through this MRI stuff, but I feel like you might feel like you’re being used n kind of stalked, mentally. I guess I did use you in a way. But only because I read a mind that I could talk to. I have others that I can talk to. So thanks again, n don’t respond so I don’t, n all the best mate. 😎💪🙏 Kxx

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