Today we go to Southampton for the MRI scan. I saw the GP yesterday. The surgery rang and asked me to go in. Dr D, who has been great all through this, will try to help chase up the scan results. I need all the support I can get.
I find out that a woman on one of my favourite website forums and who has battled with cancer for the last five years finally lost. She died. It leaves me feeling scared stiff.
We plan a nice bit of Shopping Therapy in West Key Southampton in the morning and then go on to the hospital. The receptionist is particularly helpful and tells us that there is guest accommodation for Chris on site when I have the liver operation.
One of the volunteers in the MRI reception latches onto Chris follows us into the waiting room and begins describing the catalogue of ailments that have befallen her over the last few years. She makes eye contact with the ceiling, always a bad sign, and her bombardment is unrelenting. I can see the glazed expression on Chris’ face. When I go to the interview room prior to the scan he opts to come with me to escape her clutches.. As we leave the room she goes off to seek out her next victim. It must be sad to be so lonely.
The scan is long and drawn out. It takes an hour. I have to have two injections of dye, but the radiologist fails to insert a canula in my right arm. She then tries my right hand. Neither attempt is successful. The chief radiologist appears out of nowhere and digs around in my left arm, eventually succeeding in penetrating a vein in my wrist. At this point I can’t stop the tears. I have had so many needles; this is just three to many. I have to hold my breath many times for up to 25 seconds on the out breath. It isn’t easy, especially when I just want to cry my eyes out and go home. I am relieved when they finally release me.
When my friends telephone or visit, some just aren’t sure what to say. I sense their discomfort. I’m not sure what to say either.
Tidak ada komentar:
Posting Komentar