A few weeks ago, I underwent an MRI (magnetic resonance imaging) of my spine. This procedure is not unusual for multiple myeloma patients. The MRI generates images of bones and organs and can be used to determine the presence and status of cancerous lesions in myeloma patients’ bones.

After my autologous stem cell transplant in March, I had developed painful carpal tunnel syndrome in my hands and wrists. My hematologist ordered an MRI to rule out spinal cord lesions as a possible cause.

Because I had undergone a couple of MRIs in the past, I was not particularly anxious about the procedure. I knew, however, how hard it was to find the right corridor in the labyrinth under the hospital, so I arrived at the hospital on a brilliant early fall day around 5 p.m., a full half hour before my appointment.

No leaves were yet turning in Central Park, which abuts the hospital, but unless it is raining really hard, I always sweeten my visits to the hospital with a 30-minute walk around the park. The day of the MRI, I walked around Haarlem Meer and through the Conservancy Garden, which has an exit a couple of blocks from the hospital complex.

The radiology department at Mt. Sinai Hospital is buried deep within the basement of one of its many interconnected buildings. I entered at the right address, wended my way through the subterranean tunnels, and made only two wrong stops before I found the right group of offices. X-rays, CAT scans, PET scans, and MRIs each have their special corners of the basement.

This MRI was a lot longer and seemed much more intense than the previous ones. The entire procedure took over two hours. However, the technician told me that it often takes even longer than that.

I am grateful that I am neither claustrophobic nor particularly sensitive to loud noises. The MRI tube was not much bigger than the plastic pipes pre-school children crawl through in their playgrounds. And the loud clanking of the magnets used in the machine during the imaging procedure was really jarring.

After the first 90 minutes of the MRI procedure were over, I was not immediately released from the machine. The technician explained that the images were being checked to make sure that they were sufficient to make a diagnosis and that no further imaging needed to be performed.

During the next 45 minutes, I faded off into a light sleep. This last period was a lot quieter than the first hour and a half. Indeed, there was near total silence in the bowels of Mt. Sinai Hospital – nothing other than the whisper of the air-conditioning system. (The radiology rooms are kept chilly to protect against the heat generated by all of the equipment).

I finally emerged back onto the street at 8:00 p.m. By this time, the sun had set and it was quite dark out in New York. It was too late to take another walk across the park to the subway, so I called home, explained that I’d find a taxi, and would be home as soon as I could.

A couple of weeks later, I met with my hematologist to go over the MRI images. As so often with my visits to the doctor, there was good news and bad news.

The good news was that were no signs whatsoever of lesions on my spine that could have caused the carpal tunnel syndrome in my hands and wrists.

The bad news was that some of my vertebrae were in bad shape. Although I am 65, I was stunned to see the three-dimensional image of my thinning bones! The deterioration of some of the vertebrae was obvious even to my untrained eye.

The graphic bone loss in my spine has not caused any symptoms so far, but it was quite a shock to be confronted with such a vivid depiction of the aging process.

Osteoporosis and bone loss are often associated with myeloma. However, in my case, it appears as if I don’t have anything other than age-related bone deterioration.

Meanwhile, I continue with my three-pronged strategy to deal with my aging bones. I take my calcium supplements, I receive a Zometa ^[1] (zoledronic acid) infusion every three months, and I go to the gym to try and build up some muscle to shield those thinning bones from my occasional falls.

For the last six months since the stem cell transplant, I have avoided any of the weight resistance machines at the gym as my hands and wrists hurt too much to put weight on them. However, seeing those thinning bones, I decided last month to add a very light weight training program after my swims.

Things seem to be improving since I have started the program. The hand and wrist pain is not getting worse – indeed, the symptoms actually seem to be abating. Whether this is “real” or another case of mind over matter has no importance to me.

Meanwhile, hopefully my creaking bones will not get much thinner. And maybe the next MRI will show the benefit of my hours in the gym and Zometa infusions.