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

The pain and irony of 'memory hoarding'

It was one of those moments when I knew I wasn't alone in my anxiety. I was at an OCD conference and the speaker had just described something I'd experienced for years. I just never had a name for it -- and frankly, wouldn't even have known how to describe it in the first place. But he knew what it was -- "memory hoarding." As it's explained in an article from the OCD Center of Los Angeles , memory hoarding is "a mental compulsion to over-attend to the details of an event, person, or object in an attempt to mentally store it for safekeeping. ... People with memory hoarding OCD exhibit two major errors in information processing. The first error is the distorted belief that they will need this memory someday, and that it would be catastrophic if the memory weren’t 100% accurate. Second, people with memory hoarding also have the distorted belief that memories can be treated the same way as inanimate objects." (Essentially, as I understand

OCD's musical mind games

Most everyone gets a song stuck in their head now and then. I certainly do. But recently OCD has gotten involved and it's turned from a simple annoyance to something of a concern. I realize this is one of those things that the general population isn't going to fully understand -- I think you need to have OCD or another form of anxiety to get it -- but I feel pretty safe talking about it here. It sounds like I'm joking, but here goes: For about the past month, I'd say way more than half the time I wake up in the morning I have Wham's "Careless Whisper" going through my head -- instantly. "I'm never gonna dance again, Guilty feet have got no rhythm ... Should have known better than to cheat a friend." Just those words. I admit, this sounds funny. The scary thing is I don't hear this song enough, if ever these days, for it to be so stuck in my head. It was never a favorite song of mine either. I didn't NOT like it, I just never s