Categories: uncategorized
Date: 02 September 2008 12:01:19
Today I had my first (and preferably last) experience of an MRI scan. You know, that one where they feed you into a large tube and leave you there for several hours (or so it seemed) while the machine makes a series of very loud and confusing noises at you and you have to keep absolutely still. In my case, all this had to happen with my left arm squashed close against the side of the tunnel because they wanted to look at the Almost Imperceptible Lump in my right arm. A lump so small that most of the time I can't find it, but because it's in the same arm where seven years ago I had an ectopic breast tumour (malignant lump of breast tissue in the armpit instead of in the breast), they are taking a sledgehammer to crack a nut. Or more like a very small seed.
I'm not claustrophobic, in fact I love going underground, so was not expecting to find this as traumatic as some are said to. But my uncomfortable squashed up position made it all feel considerably worse than I expected. Added to this, they took me out three quarters of the way through to give me an injection (of what - dye?) and then put me back in for further scanning. Not an experience I would care to repeat. And to add insult to injury, there were no doughnuts in the new hospital café - just oversized muffins which I didn't fancy. Why has snack food in Britain gone so Americanized? No one even knows how to make a proper cup of tea any more... I think my recent visit to Tunbridge Wells (where they do actually make a proper cup of tea occasionally) has turned me into a curmudgeon - or possible curmudgeoness.