MRI (Mostly Really Incarcerating)

I'm pretty sure I know what a piece of copy paper feels like.





I have injured my left knee...again. This makes number three in two years. I thought they fixed it last time when they ripped a pre-owned ACL out of some dead guy and gave it to me, but apparently not (Don't let my misfortune dissuade you from becoming a donor).
The best part about knee injuries happens right before the injury. You know, the part where you're scampering happily down the football field, thinking, "This is so fun and safe." Then all hell, in conjunction with their corresponding ligaments, breaks loose and you hit the dirt.
The inevitable MRI occurred earlier this week. I had forgotten how much I dislike MRI's. All the buzzing, clanking, whirring, snapping, and--at least in my case--screaming that accompanies the procedure makes you feel like you're driving a 2009 Chrysler...well...anything really.
Can anyone relate? If you've ever been locked inside a Xerox machine, you have a pretty good idea. It's hotter than two field mice doing it in a wool sock in July in there, and you don't even get mouse-babies out of the deal. You get a picture of smeared, staticky, steak shards. And after all this, the doctor will say, "Well, the initial examination has proven inconclusive as to your actual condition. We're going to need to do a CT scan..."
Forget that, man. I'm doing my own scans from now on. Anyone have a used copier I can borrow?

I can pay you in mouse-babies.