Friday 3 March 2006

I was aware of the approximate location of the ward dealing with the heart and respiratory tests and headed off in that direction.
I must have looked lost because a friendly Nurse asked me what I was looking for as I looked up from the ECG paperwork with a puzzled expression upon my face.

Nurse - ‘ECG? Upstairs, turn right, you cannot miss it’
‘Thank you’

They way she motioned ‘turn right’ should’ve given it away; she almost turned on the spot as she spoke. How many women have I met who, to this day, still cannot tell their left from their right? I have an understanding with my Partner that, when I am driving and she is navigating, instead of using ‘left’ or ‘right’ we use ‘your side’ and ‘my side’, so much easier and a lot less dangerous.
Top of the stairs I turned right, ten paces later I realised she had meant left. That little mistake from a very helpful lady had bought a welcome smile to face; I wonder if 10 paces after she had left me she realised she had said right meaning left?

Another waiting room to sit in; a side room with a TV playing to itself as the only other occupant was not taking any notice of it. I wondered how long he had been there as he asked me for the time of day. He was obviously an ‘In-patient’ as he was sitting in a wheel chair in his pyjamas and dressing gown, having difficulty breathing. I felt fit.

I did not have to wait long, I was soon being attended to. I was measured for height, 5ft 7ins; I knew I was getting older as I had shrunk an inch from what I believed my height to be.
I was taken into a side room and had to blow into a machine, three times: slightly below what it should be, obviously for someone of my stature. The nurse taking these measures was a heavy smoker when not at work and would struggle to do the tests herself.
The ECG was proving tricky as one of the pads they attach to the body had gone missing. Another machine was bought in and the test was over within minutes. As I stood up from the bed to dress the missing pad fell from between my legs.

Another wait now, but no drinking or eating, I had been forbidden to do either since this morning due to the impending CAT scan. I waited firstly in my car and then on a bench whilst reading my book for an hour.

I arrived in the X-Ray department as directed 10 minutes prior to my appointment.
I was soon called through to the CAT scan waiting area, having first slipped into one of those back-to-front gowns they give you to put on – these things afford no dignity whatsoever.

Cleanest, brightest waiting room so far and only two of us in there.

I have had a CT scan before, during the investigations for the time I had Cancer in 1992, I am therefore not apprehensive about this at all.

I do not have long to wait.
The room is also bright, clean and very new looking. The CT machine is practically brand new but similar to how I had remembered it.

I was injected with a contrast medium through a vein in order to increase the amount of information obtained from the scan. I was informed that I would have a warm feeling passing around my body as the fluid was injected.
Well! That was bloody hot; it felt as if it travelled down the length of my body and out of my arse. I was sure I would not wish to look inside my pants once I had got off the Scan table!
However once the painless CT was over it was evident that nothing had passed through my rectum and my pants were as clean as when I put them on this morning, well almost.

Back to the waiting room.

I saw what I believed to be my files on a table behind me, and the results of my Scan being spat out from a machine also situated just behind me.
I asked a passing member of staff if they were indeed my results and got a definite ‘Yes’ with a friendly smile.

Then entered what I believed to be a Doctor who walked over to the table and began to look at my previous X-rays and the Scans.
From the look on his face you would’ve thought he was viewing pictures of his wife in various acts of lewdness with his best friend! Either that or someone had got their thumb in the way of the lens and ruined the images.
Placing them back onto the table he turned around and walked out of the room without saying a word.

The Radiologist who had performed the CT scan came out of her room and told me I could get dressed.
I asked her if there was anything for me to see or could she tell me anything about the Scans. She said they were not ready yet.
‘But surely they were mine out there on the table?’
‘No, they are not yours’
Perhaps they were pictures of the Doctors’ wife, or were they hiding something?

I got dressed and went home.

The weekend I stripped more paper from the living room walls.