Skip to main content

The day I turned claustrophobic

I never thought I was claustrophobic -- it never even occurred to me that I might be. Until I went for my first MRI.

I'm not sure this has anything to do with OCD, though in my case I think it does, because now when faced with an MRI I tend to catastrophize -- focusing on having the worst possible experience in that tube weeks ahead of the actual appointment.

For my first MRI I was offered a Valium to keep me calm. I cockily said no, don't need it, and proceeded to get on the MRI table.

My recollection is that I didn't start to panic right away, as they slid me head first into the tube. But I do recall starting to get a little uncomfortable. Then they handed me a panic button in case I needed to get out.

They turned the machine on and in maybe a second -- at most -- I was hitting away at the button. Kicking my legs up and down. Yelling something to the effect of "Get me out. Now!"

Of course I was embarrassed and it goes without saying that I got no further trying to find the cause for my chronic neck pain. But I left and went on with my life.

Until I stepped into an elevator. I had never even remotely had a problem with elevators, but now the door closed and I went into a panic.

Then I took the underground transit system -- one I'd taken every weekday from home to college for 5 years without issue. As soon as the doors closed my heart starting racing and I got clammy, breaking into a sweat.

Then it was airplanes, and the middle of big buildings where I couldn't just step outside for air, even parking structures as I went higher up the levels. Anyplace that seemed the least confining sent my brain spiraling.

This lasted in the extreme for at least 2 years, all triggered by the MRI.

I've since gotten much better about confined spaces -- elevators are generally no problem, and airplanes -- while they take some focus -- are ok too, as long as I get an aisle seat.

MRIs have gotten only slightly easier, however.

I usually now have my girlfriend in the room squeezing my toe to take my mind off my head inside the tube. And the last one I had, the technician gave me a mirror that allowed me to look out the front of the cylinder, as if I was looking into open space.

Plus, I take anti-anxiety meds before I go.

I figure I had latent claustrophobia until they cranked up that first MRI. Now it feels like it's there somewhere waiting to pounce if I'm not careful and alert.

Comments

  1. Thanks for sharing your story. My claustrophobia is different, more of a numbing paralysis. I have always known that this would be the case if I went scuba diving, though that might be the one thing that sends me into a panic, as there's a much more immediate risk of death/suffocation. The paralysis part came about when I had an office job in the basement of a large building tourist destination tower. There was no other place for the offices, so they went in the basement. After working there a few months, my head started to spin. I already have focusing issues, so no surprise I was fired shortly therafter. Maybe it was the near kilometre of concrete floating above my head, and probably below too.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Your work experience reminded me of an outing I took with a friend. We went to visit a deep cavern that was set up for guided tours. At that point I didn't realize I had claustrophobia, but we took an elevator down underground and walked out into this place. I freaked out and started to panic. I told my friend I had to leave, right then. She talked me down and I made it through the tour, but I recall have a hard time breathing and just wanting to run -- even though there was really nowhere to go.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A fear of not knowing

Every Sunday night I feel compelled to check my work email to see what came in over the weekend. It's not that I'm required to, nor do I even need to, it's that I have a great fear of things going on that I am not aware of. It's OCD telling me, "You'd better check to see if your co-workers have been trying to reach you. Maybe you're missing something important. This could when they figure out you're no good at what you do. Check the email. Check it. Check it." Never mind that anyone who needs me can reach me by cell -- everyone has my number and I always have my phone. It's hard to describe the feeling of anxiety that comes over me. I tell myself not to check my email, but 99 percent of the time, it's less painful to essentially start my work week on Sunday night, than it is to ruminate on what might be going on without me knowing. For the first time, tonight, as I was checking my work email I saw a connection with something I used ...

OCD, just like my dad

My father used to collect soap. I don't think he meant to, but I remember as a child, walking into my parents' bathroom and seeing a pile, a heap, of used bars of soap on his side of the counter. It didn't strike me as strange, so much, as it did unique. I never asked why there was so much soap -- why he didn't just finish off one bar before starting another -- but I probably wondered. In recent years there have been studies on whether OCD has a genetic component. I've been involved in a couple. But to me, there's no question, now, looking back with more knowledge, that my father's pile of soap was a sign of obsessive-compulsive disorder. My belief is that once he used a bar of soap for what his OCD brain told him was the "right" amount of time, it was time to move on to the next. Maybe OCD told him the old bar was no longer clean. Or maybe it just felt "wrong." My father was interesting in that he would shower just once a wee...