Sunday, August 07, 2016

Scan day 2016.

This morning I had my annual 'toe ring removal' panic, but it came off quite easily when I actually tried. And the whole day seemed to follow that example - things are far more frightening in the run up, but you just get on with it when you have to. And then it's done.

Since my last scan I had a fragment of metal stuck in my eye (don't ask, I don't know) which I ignored for quite a few weeks until it got nice and rusty and I had to have it scraped out over several sessions. Horrible as this was, it didn't occur to me, until I was in the waiting room this morning, what it would mean to have a piece of metal in my eye. They gave me an x-ray to make sure (thank you thank you NHS) and of course it was all fine. Just another thing to stress about.

And then there I was again, ears stuffed with plugs and sponges, knees resting on a pillow (new design from last year - very comfortable!) and my head lost in an oversized clanging washing machine for an indeterminable amount of time. Which was fine when I got there. I quite enjoyed the lying down part actually.

That might be because yesterday I got a bit drunk which is a rare occasion for me these days. I thought it would distract me and help me sleep. It did distract me for a bit, but sleep was not having any of it. Sleep doesn't like alcohol, or brain scans. So I woke up really early and fretted. The kids slept until after 8am, MIRACLE, so I caught up on some of yesterday's Olympics on my own on the sofa feeling sorry for myself. It was really nice.

Incidentally, I was thinking earlier. I wish I'd done one of those fashion blog things, of scan day attire, from the very beginning - I'd have quite a collection by now. It still causes me a lot of anxiety planning what to wear (mostly because I would rather do most things than go out in public not wearing a bra). And I already can't remember what I wore in the early days.

For future reference, today I sported some hareem pants, a long vest and short floppy top and a ridiculous sports type bra thing. I took a normal bra with me to immediately change into afterwards.


Two things worry me about scan days. One is that I feel glum and tetchy and defensive. I am rude and thoughtless and I blame it on the scan and get away with it. I know I shouldn't do this but I still do, which really annoys me. I feel like after all this time I should just get on with it, but instead I take advantage of scan day to get a bit more attention than normal. I should just grow up and stop whingeing.

The other thing is that deep down, I don't think there is anything wrong. (Hence why I shouldn't be moping around). So if it turns out there is actually something wrong then I am woefully unprepared for it, mentally. And then the doubts start to creep in, just to mentally prepare in case, and then I really am a bit jittery and emotional and we haven't even left the house yet.

I hate scan day. It forces me to think about things I don't want to think about. And it forces me to contemplate different potential futures and it makes me selfish and introspected and a total bore.

And it is so lonely. No matter how many people you have waiting outside (and I was lucky to have loads today, singing "if you're happy and you know it" so loud I could hear it during the x-ray") you still have to do the scan alone. Nobody else is in that room. And it's so lonely in my thoughts too. Not for the first time, I wish I could swap brains.

Roll on results day HA. Not.

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