A Magnetic Personality

It’s been a fairly busy week, and what with the lockdown, I haven’t done much outside of work. I DID watch a few things on Netflix and rented a couple of movies, which were kind of hit and miss. Now, this isn’t a movie review site but I’m happy to give you a very succinct lowdown of some of my viewing choices:

Wonder Woman 1984: Pile of crap
Tenet: WTF was that?
Bridgerton: Oh yeah. Damn.

I was excited to find out last night that the second season of Blown Away, the glassblowing competition show, is now on Netflix. And while that doesn’t sound very exciting, there’s a surprising amount of drama and tension, especially since the contestants are working with fire and molten glass—I definitely recommend it. Ken once did a glassblowing course and here are some of his pieces. He also made the wooden vase on the right:

But one of the highlights of the week was finally having a virtual Zoom appointment with an orthopedic surgeon about my shoulder. I deliberately wore a tank top underneath a baggy cardigan in case he wanted to virtually examine it. But he didn’t—he just asked a bunch of questions, then said he was sending me for an MRI. His next question really flummoxed me:

Surgeon: Do you have any metal in your body?
Me:
Surgeon:
Me:
Surgeon: Suzanne? Are you frozen?
Me: No, I was just thinking about it.

And if you know anything about me at all, you’ll know that two things were going through my mind simultaneously.

1) DO I have any metal in my body? How would I know that? I did a mental catalogue and came to the following conclusion: I have fillings in my molars that look kind of silver-y, I have earrings but they can come out, my toenail polish has glitter in it and that can easily be removed, but this is JUST WHAT I KNOW. I mean, I could have metal in my body without even being aware of it. When I told Ken this later, he laughed and asked how that would even be possible, but here’s a scenario:

Dude 1: And after the anal probe, the aliens left metal in my body.
Dude 2 (gasps in horror): That’s awful!
Dude 1: I know, right?
Dude 2: Now you can never have an MRI!

I mean, I don’t believe in alien abduction, mainly because I don’t believe that any alien life form in its right mind would travel hundreds of years across several galaxies in multi-generational ships just to stick a camera up Bob’s ass. But there are other ways you can unknowingly have metal in your body, like did I accidentally swallow a penny when I was a kid and it’s lodged somewhere in my intestines? Also, I’ve had several surgeries—did one of the doctors leave something behind? And then I talked to my dad, who’s a former machine shop teacher, and he said that when he had an MRI, they made him get an eye scan in case he’d ever gotten a metal shaving in his eye and hadn’t realized it. So see, you can never be sure about metal—it’s sneaky.

2) The other thing that went through my mind at the same time, obviously, was what it would be like to ACTUALLY have metal in my body, like what if my arms could transform into forklift arms or something, like a Wolverine, you know? I’d be walking down the street and hear a cry for help and see an old lady (well, older than me anyway) lying trapped beneath a stack of wooden pallets that had just fallen on her, and my forklift arms would shoot out and rescue her by removing the pallets one by one. It would be a slow rescue, but it still counts.

And then Kate just read that over my shoulder:

Kate: Forklift arms? That’s a terrible power. Go to Professor X with that, and he’d show you the door.
Me: No, he wouldn’t. It’s just as good as Wolverine, I mean what’s his power? Spikes shoot out of his hands? You can’t lift sh*t with those.
Kate: He’s also immortal. And you don’t need forklift arms to lift stuff when you HAVE ARMS.

But I still want forklift arms, despite the mockery. And of course, the other big question everyone asks when you tell them you’re having an MRI is “Are you claustrophobic?” I started to get worried because from what I understood, the MRI machine is a giant magnet that they stick you in. Last night, I woke up around 3 am as per usual, and lay there thinking about it, and when I imagined myself in a tight cave, I did get a little panicky. But then I googled pictures of MRI machines and they look more like very thick donuts, and you lie in the hole. So as long as I can get out either end, I think I’ll be fine. Then the best part, and I’m being completely sarcastic here, is that they called and my appointment is at midnight. Midnight? I don’t have to worry about feeling claustrophobic—I’ll be asleep. Unless the giant magnet triggers a hitherto unknown genetic mutation involving forklift arms…