I have spent the last thirty-plus years in the world of computers. I have been very much a part of them taking over the world. Our PR agency was one of the first to represent computers in the early stages, and three decades later we are still involved in the latest innovations.

One would think that the sight of a computer would be of great comfort to me. I guess in certain circumstances it would. Yesterday it didn’t. I was very uneasy when the clerks behind the administration counter at Park Avenue Radiology told me I had to fill out the administration forms on one of the free-standing computers against the wall.

At that very moment I would have paid extra to have one of the clerks help me fill out the forms. I was scared to death to take the MRI test, and now I had to face the challenge of using a strange computer to answer questions I didn’t necessarily know the answers to.

What if I said I wasn’t allergic to something but I really was? What if they gave it to me while I was in “the donut.” I could have a fatal reaction. This was like a Woody Allen movie. I needed to focus on the form, not the machine.

The simplest instruction was overwhelming. “Insert your medical insurance card and your driver’s license” to prove it was me. I was stuck at procedure one. Which card first? Then I had to go through a list of twenty-five questions while standing in front of the computer. Some I had to redo several times because I clicked the wrong box. The computer asked for identification containing information I didn’t know, so I had to rummage through my handbag looking for the appropriate cards that held that information. That was stressful as well.

It took me twenty minutes to get the forms filled out. I took a deep breath. I was done. I looked around the room at the other saps waiting their turns to go inside the donut. They looked back at me, I imagined wondering what took me so long at the machine.

I took a seat, thankful for a reprieve between machines. It was a humbling experience that I will only admit to you.