Brain MRI at Mayo Clinic

We all know how brutal the wait for a brain MRI can be, especially if you're stuck waiting in Washington, D.C., but unfortunately (or maybe luckily?), D.C. isn't even the record holder—that title goes to San Diego with a whopping 550-day wait according to Medicare data.

So, I recently got my referral, and I figured I’d just shoot an email over to Ribs (I already knew the wait was about a year, so I wasn't expecting much), and the gentleman there—and I mean this sincerely, he wasn't being sarcastic at all, he was actually super polite and quick—replied telling me they were booking appointments for June 2018! Luckily, my situation wasn't an emergency, but I still didn't fancy waiting 15 months (and man, I can't imagine what it's like for people who actually need it urgently!). I ended up booking at the Mayo Clinic on March 21st, and within just a few days, I had an appointment scheduled for April 7th, which was actually yesterday. My little piece of advice would be to try booking in other cities if your local waitlist is too long, though you should probably just call around anyway and ask about the wait times. For Seattle, according to Medicare, the wait is around 135 days. I don't know if I just caught a lucky break or if the lists are actually short, but the waiting room was totally empty after me, so maybe they aren't that slammed.

Anyway, the whole point of this thread is just to walk you through the booking protocol and the actual procedure once you show up (which is something that would have been super helpful for me to know beforehand).

You can book through the radiology web form or just go in person if it's not too far out of your way. When you book, you don't get an immediate appointment date via email; instead, they send a confirmation by mail, so you won't actually know when your slot is until the post arrives.

If Seattle isn't too far for you and you really can't afford to wait, just go for it. A Greyhound ticket from D.C. to Seattle is about $15, plus you get a 5% discount, and the ride takes about 2 hours.

Once you arrive there, here’s how it goes—you check in at the window (the lady there was lovely), hand over your referral, your booking confirmation, and your insurance card along with any supplemental info (if you don't have supplemental, you'll just pay a percentage), and she hands everything back to you along with a big brown envelope and a questionnaire you have to fill out to sign the consent forms. After that, you head over to the radiology department, which is just a few steps away. They suggest arriving about half an hour early—I actually slipped in a couple of minutes before my scheduled time. There, you'll meet a nice, young doctor (at least he was to me) who takes your paperwork. There’s a little booth off to the side where you can change and leave your stuff. I just went in my own clothes (sweatpants, socks, and a t-shirt without a bra, though they'd probably let you slide with one if it doesn't have wires).

One important thing to note is that they don't provide headphones, so I'd definitely recommend bringing some earplugs to dampen the noise (it still feels a bit like being at a construction site or a rave, but you'll survive). If you struggle with claustrophobia, make sure to check "yes" on the questionnaire to make things easier for yourself (I'm not sure how they handle that, since I don't have issues with it) during the process. Then, you lie down on the "board," and you should try to get as comfortable as possible because you aren't moving for about 25 minutes. They place a band over your forehead and a sort of long cage behind your head, but it sits on top of your head and doesn't really squeeze your skull—the band doesn't feel tight either, and your head can move more or less freely. If you start feeling unwell, just wave to the doctor (is it a technician? honestly, I don't know since they aren't the ones reading or writing the results) and they will pull you out.

The procedure itself isn't scary if you aren't claustrophobic—there's a bit of tapping and some vibrations that feel like a "massage," and if you keep your eyes closed, it's not that bad (I was just imagining my neighbors were doing some home repairs 😁). They send the results by mail along with a CD of the images. I didn't have to get contrast (thankfully), so I can't speak to that (just keep in mind that contrast adds about 20 minutes to the scan). In the end, like I said, when I walked back into the waiting room, there were no other patients. The woman before me seemed a little disoriented (I felt fine, almost like I hadn't even been scanned—it really just depends on your headspace), but she didn't have any earplugs 😉

If you guys have any questions at all, feel free to just drop them right here, or maybe shoot me a PM if that's easier—I'll be checking both spots whenever I get a chance, I guess. I really hope I was able to help clear up some of the confusion regarding how the search process actually works, and hopefully, it might even help you guys find ways to trim down those waiting lists a little bit too.

Look, I went in for an MRI on my brain over in Seattle a few years back, and honestly? As soon as they started sliding me into that tiny tube, I felt like absolute crap. My stomach just turned. So, if you're dealing with claustrophobia, there’s really nothing else to say—you either deal with it or you don't get the scan. That was my reality, plain and simple.

Maria Gray45 said:So, a few years back, I actually went in for a brain MRI over in Seattle, and honestly, the second they started sliding me into that machine, I just felt totally sick to my stomach. Like, really nauseous. So, I guess if you're dealing with claustrophobia, there isn't much else you can really do about it—you either face it or you just don't get the scan done, period. That was just how it played out for me.

Haha, yeah, that sounds totally possible. Maybe they'll point you toward one of those "open" MRI machines? I'm not really sure how they handle offering things like anti-anxiety meds or sedative pills during the process, though...

Quick little update for you guys: I finally got my results back today (even though I actually went in for the tests last Friday!)

Back when I was at the Cleveland Clinic in Washington, D.C., they gave me a mid-2018 estimate—it felt like forever! Eventually, I just went ahead and booked through the Mayo Clinic in NYC for an early February slot, and somehow managed to actually get it done by March.

It wasn't quite a two-week wait like you experienced, but let’s be honest—it still wasn't exactly a quick turnaround either.

I actually took the time to call around to both San Francisco and those specialists over in Ocean Springs, and everyone I spoke to said the same thing: expect to wait anywhere from a month to six weeks.

gentlemoose57 said:Over at the Cleveland Clinic in Washington, D.C., they told me mid-2018. So, I eventually just booked an appointment at the Mayo Clinic in NYC for early February—aiming for a March slot—and actually managed to get it done.

It’s not quite two weeks like you mentioned, but I guess it isn't a super long wait either.

I even gave a call to San Francisco and those Ocean Springs places, and everyone there seemed to say it would take about a month to maybe six weeks or so.

I ended up picking Seattle because private clinics feel a bit pricey to me—I mean, I could probably swing it, but then what's the point of paying for supplemental insurance? Plus, you can never really be certain if Medicare is going to refund part of it, the whole thing, or absolutely nothing at all... anyway, I really hope everything turns out fine with the test results 😉

rapidnomad322 said:I decided on Seattle because going private feels a bit excessive—I mean, I could afford it, sure, but then what’s the point of having supplemental insurance? Plus, you can never be entirely certain whether Medicare will reimburse part of the cost, the whole thing, or absolutely nothing at all... I really hope everything turned out fine with those test results 😉

Not quite—but honestly, when you're constantly expecting things to get even worse, you find yourself feeling satisfied with even the mediocre stuff 🤣🤣🤣

There isn't any reimbursement process involved; you just hand over your referrals and that's that. It’s not like the situation where you can't get an appointment through the public system, so you're forced to go private and pay out of pocket only to argue about it later—no, it's much smoother than that. For things like MRIs and other radiology scans, they actually sign contracts with numerous private clinics to handle thousands of these scans, so you just show up with your referral and get it done like any other routine appointment.

gentlemoose57 said:Not really, but I guess if you’re already expecting things to be way worse, then you kind of end up feeling satisfied even when stuff is just mediocre... 🤣🤣🤣

There isn't any kind of reimbursement, honestly; you just take your referrals over there and that's that. It's not like the situation where you can't get an appointment through Medicare so you head to a private clinic, pay out of pocket, and then try to argue about getting your money back later. It's more that for things like MRIs or other imaging, they actually have contracts signed with tons of private clinics for hundreds or even thousands of scans, so you just go in with your referral and get it done like it's totally normal.

Well, I couldn't even get into a public hospital—I definitely wasn't about to wait until June 2018! But yeah, I did think you'd pay upfront and then get a refund. Either way, I suppose it isn't a bad idea to drive to a different city if you can't find anything local through the private options, since those slots tend to fill up so fast.

Honestly, you guys should just be glad you don't have to rush through your scans. I managed to show up on the third day even with a terminal diagnosis hanging over my head, and now that things have actually taken a turn for the better—which, let’s face it, is always a total crapshoot—I'm just chilling until late 2017. No stress, no rushing. If they decide to call me earlier, I'll be there within 20 minutes tops.
Bee 88, you totally forgot about that little rubber squeeze ball the technician handed you. Most people walk out feeling completely disoriented with bloodshot eyes, especially if you've been over at the Salad place dealing with how intense those magnets are.

Larry Scott43 said:Bee 88 you totally forgot about that little rubber indicator ball the technician handed you! I mean, honestly, feeling all disoriented with bloodshot eyes is pretty much standard for everyone, especially when you're at the Salad because those magnets are just incredibly powerful

Hey there, Laura Cox5, it’s not even like I forgot to bring it up, it's more like they never actually gave it to me in the first place (so they probably don't even have one lying around)!

rapidnomad322 said:I couldn't even make it to the public clinic—I wasn't about to sit around waiting until June 2018. And honestly, I assumed you’d just pay out of pocket and then get reimbursed later. Still, if you can't swing the private route because the slots fill up so fast, it's worth driving to another city.

I think there's this whole catch where if they schedule you two years out and you just decide to go private and pay upfront, you end up in a massive headache fighting with Medicare to get your money back.

By the way, regarding that rubber ball thing—they actually have one over at the Mayo Clinic, but definitely not at Vineyard. Plus, the Mayo Clinic has that little prism setup where you can peek through a slot to see the engineer in the control room—just to be absolutely certain he hasn't slipped away for a quick burger. You won't find that luxury at Vineyard.

I don't know if I can even explain this without sounding like a total nutcase, but I was just sitting here thinking about how weird life gets sometimes, you know? Like, one minute you’re just cruising along, maybe grabbing a coffee in downtown Chicago or something, and the next thing you know, you're staring at some massive, complicated situation that feels way too big to wrap your head around. It's funny, I guess, how we all just try to act like everything is totally normal when things get messy. I mean, maybe I'm overthinking it, but there’s definitely that feeling where you realize just how much stuff is actually going on behind the scenes of our everyday lives. It’s kind of wild if you really sit down and dwell on it for a second, though I probably shouldn't spend too much time dwelling on stuff like that because it just makes my brain go in circles! Anyway, I was just rambling, I suppose. Just one of those thoughts that hits you out of nowhere. kaže:
I feel like there’s this weird, inevitable cycle that just happens sometimes, you know? Like, I guess you end up on some massive waiting list for two whole years, and then you eventually just lose your mind, go to a private clinic, and pay out of pocket just to see a doctor before you turn eighty. And then—this is the best part—you spend months arguing with Medicare trying to get them to reimburse you for the whole thing, which is honestly such a headache. It's just one of those things, I suppose.

So, about that rubber ball situation... I was thinking, if you're looking for one, you can actually find it over at the Virginia location, but for some reason, they don't carry it at the Napa Valley spot. And get this—over in Virginia, they’ve got this cool little prism thing too, where you can peek through this tiny hole to see straight into the control room, just to make sure the engineer hasn't slipped away to grab some street tacos or something. But yeah, they definitely don't have that setup at Napa Valley either, I guess.

So, I figured, why even bother fighting with Medicare? It’s just not worth the headache, honestly. I didn't want to get into some massive back-and-forth argument with them, so I just decided to make the trek out to San Francisco instead. I mean, if things had been more urgent, I probably would've just hopped in the car and driven all the way to Warsaw too, I guess. I really don't get how some people can just sit around, complaining for an entire year, when they could just drive to a nearby city if they actually have the cash to do it. It seems like such a waste of time, you know?

So, about that stress ball thing... honestly, I didn't even need one (well, they didn't have one, and even if they did, I probably wouldn't have bothered using it anyway), so I just spent the whole time squinting my eyes shut and trying to, I don't know, weave all that noise—it was actually kind of rhythmic, surprisingly—into my own little headspace. It wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it might be. My biggest worry, I guess, was that it would feel super claustrophobic because I tend to get a bit lightheaded if I'm stuck in a cramped space for too long, like being on a crowded Greyhound bus or something, but luckily it felt really airy and open. There was this nice little breeze blowing through, so everything felt totally fine. An MRI really isn't the monster people make it out to be, provided you aren't someone who struggles with claustrophobia.