I am such a wuss. I got up at some ungodly hour this morning to go in for an MRI on my shoulder. I've had one done before, so I figured, hey, no big deal. A little loud, a little tedious. Well, the last one was in an open machine, and this one was in a closed machine. There's nothing quite like being strapped to a table and sent into a tunnel to start off a panic attack. I spent 45 minutes staring up at the top of the plastic tube, telling myself to get a grip. Such a big baby.