Saturday 27 February 2016

little box of fear...

when you are on the cycle of scans you do get used to them, nothing brings back the initial overwhelming fear of going through a CT scan when you know they are just checking the size of the tumour. I still haven't got used to the dye that has to be administered through a canulla, the heat that rushes through your body, the metalic taste and then the dread of wanting to pee yourself. Though I've made friends with the little packman face on the machine that reminds you to hold your breath and then breath again, I'm still angry with the big plastic polo mint that has power over my body. But then, I've always been happiest on the other side of the camera.


Different friends and family have accompanied me to scans over the years and The Chelsea Red Cross charity shop almost part of the scan process, especially as my body changes from size 14 to size 8 and then back again. Breakfasts and lunches have been interesting too, and latterly, whoever is with me gets a lunch and a half as I have explored a sort of bulimia, coz my brain doesn't coincide with the size of my stomach. The scan isn't the big day though, that comes a week later on results day.

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