Wednesday, 21 November 2007

Oof

Thank you everyone who emailed me and left messages. I am very grateful. As you've probably worked out, I survived the experience, and so did White Star, though it was a close thing for us both. When I try and look at this scan thing rationally, I know perfectly well that the odd doughnut shaped thing that is the scanner is not going to hurt me; and that I was not actually trapped, because if I made enough fuss someone would have come and let me out.

But that is not how I feel, which is terrified: pure, blind panic. When the radiographer came back in she said "You didn't enjoy that much did you?" Oh how true. I was holding onto White Star for dear life, and my heart was pounding fit to bust. There was one particularly awful moment when I thought I really couldn't bear it anymore, but I remembered to pray and felt a jolt of surprise when my heart rate instantly slowed down. Make of that what you will!

I hope I managed to keep still enough during it, but shook like a leaf and wept after I was released. Still, at least I have done it. Thank you all for your support.

Radiographer asked if my phobia affected my life - well no, as I have trained myself over the years to cope with lifts and the underground but there's not a lot of training you can do with CT scans is there? Unless you are unfortunate enough to need them a lot. And I do hope I don't. I have huge respect for Vanessa of Fidra, who has epilepsy and so has CTs and MRI scans and is now so chilled, having started off froma position of fear, that she sleeps through them. Cor. What a girl.

4 comments:

Gillian said...

Congrats on facing up to the ordeal OK. Let's hope you don't have to have another, but it is amazing what you can get used to.

I'm (hopefully) taking part in a clinical trial - first MRI for it in a fortnight, and at monthly intervals for a good six months or more afterwards. I'll also have to provide blood samples each month, which isn't something I've been looking forward to. They took some today, but I have rather shy veins, so after having three holes poked in my elbows with little result, they finally got some blood from the back of my hand.
By that time, I was becoming rather indifferent to the whole affair.

winnie said...

Jane I do sympathise, I am the same at the dentist and just sit shaking and sweating in the chair whilst desperately trying to concentrate on anything, something else than where I am.
The dentist thinks it is funny!

Jane said...

Gillian - good luck with the trial, and I am extremely impressed at your fortitude! May your veins become extroverts.

Winnie - not helpful from your dentist, I think. At least the radiographer was sympathetic!

Bowleserised said...

Well done you!

I had to have an MRI once and hadn't given it a thought, then found myself terrified. Something about being strapped into a cage, pushed into a machine and having your brain vibrated, oddly enough. I salute all who get through one!