OPINION COLUMN Staying Afloat

KEVIN YOUNGQUIST just another in the crowd

Life in and of itself is not a bad place to be in terms of our whole existence. This time is strictly to learn.

Learning by experiences is what we do each day. Sometimes it’s sad, sometimes happy, sometimes funny and many times unforgettable.

Through these experiences, life lessons are to be learned and memories are to be made.

I am no different from you, just another in the crowd trying to stay afloat. Okay, I may be the short one, but we’re good- looking people who enjoy life as we know it. Our experiences are not all that dissimilar.

A man I look up to once said that he was just trying to get through life without looking stupid.

But, for those of you like me, we sometimes feel like the crash-test dummies of life. Not looking stupid is a hard path to walk.

The event sequences that make up our lives are random and chaotic. Even with an explanation, these times can still be hard to understand. This column is about those very times in life, the times when there is nothing else for you to do but laugh.

About two weeks ago I went on a bridge jumping trip with some friends on the Fall River, which I hurt myself.

As lame as that experience was, the real life lesson began the next week when I drove to Madison Memorial Hospital for a recommended Magnetic Resonance Image (MRI).

Some of you may be saying, “What is an MRI?”

According to the encyclopedia of me, it involves you sitting perfectly still for a fair amount of time — it felt like a month — in a small tube in the middle of the biggest magnet ever to be used to pull planets out of their celestial orbits; a little bigger then those found on your fridge.

Then there is the noise, just under a dozen different jackhammer-like sounds coming from the machine just inches from your face, or so it seems.

I must say that it was a wee bit of a nerve-racking event.

I was told upon arrival to remove all items from my pockets, along with my belt as a precaution. Apparently the strong magnets used in the MRI machine could cause these common pocket treasures to become dangerous projectiles.

The technician then asked me if I had any internal metal to which I thankfully responded, “no.”

“I do have button-fly jeans on … should I change into a robe or something?” I asked the competent technician.

His response was unsettling, “You should be fine.

I would like to draw your attention to the word should.

The word should can also be used in sentences like, “you should survive” or “that should stop bleeding anytime now.”

At the end of the table closest to the machine lay a medieval torture vise in which I was asked to place my head. Then a comforting Velcro strap secured my head against any involuntary movement I might have during the procedure.

“My button-fly jeans should be fine?” I asked one more time as worst-case scenarios raced through my Velcro-tethered head.

“They should be fine,” he reassured me, handing me some red earplugs that resembled cheese puffs you might find between couch cushions. “These cut down on noise.”

Now put yourself in my place: You are about to enter, strapped to a table, the center of a rather large powerful MRI machine that sounds like the rock-eating construction equipment around campus.

Remember Rock Eater from the movie The NeverEnding Story? This machine could be its love child.

Anyway, back to the story:

Earplugs. Check. Head strapped down. Check. Large pieces of metal over my vitals. Check.

I slid into the massive humming machine.

“MY PANTS ARE MOVING!!” I yelled as the machine’s magnetic fields brought my jeans to life.

As I emerged from the magnetic cocoon 20 minutes later, I was relieved not to have to peel myself off the side of the machine.

At the end of the day, the “I should be fine” turned to an “I am just fine.”

I am not going to end this article with the Forrest Gump line “Life is like … ” but there are always things to be gleaned from experiences like this.

The phrase, “You should be fine” is life’s way of saying, “Don’t expect to get it right the first time, but just enjoy the ride and love the experience.”

Experience is called experience for a reason. If this life’s experiences were always pleasant and predictable, they wouldn’t be for our benefit or growth.

So next time life is moving by itself and seems to be out of control just remember: It is a lesson being learned, a memory being made and a fun story in the making.