Today was a day of poking and prodding and lying under big machines. It started at 8am with me being told to drink a massive bottle of yellow liquid [see Fig. A] not dissimilar from Sunny D to make my insides glow for the CAT scan. It didn’t taste too bad and the scan itself took 5 minutes and involved a whirring machine that told me to hold my breath for a few seconds before breathing out again. (Handy, then, that I had been practising breathing exercises last night during the Hour of Power weekly workout.)
After the CAT scan, I was given a low-dose injection of radioactive material and told to drink some liquids and wait a few hours before having a full-body bone scan. Said bone scan involved being strapped to a bed under a blanket and stuck under another whirring machine for 25 minutes in a chilly room. This was actually quite relaxing and allowed me to get a couple of moments of shut-eye after staying up way past my bedtime last night.
I am not allowed near any pregnant women or young children for the next 24 hours, due to my current radioactive state. So I have donned my old ‘She’s electric’ t-shirt [Fig. B], in the absence of a ‘She’s radioactive’ one, to warn any pregnant ladies who happen to cross my path.
One of the worst things today was having needles and plastic tubey things inserted into my arm for extended periods. But I’m sure I’m going to have to face far worse experiences over the next few months and so I shall be sure to man up accordingly.
The best thing was without doubt receiving all your incredibly supportive, heartfelt and funny messages and also the no-words-necessary hug from one lovely Facebooker when I went to collect my dinner this evening (being very careful to avoid pregnant women at the time).
In other news, my iPhone registered 21 degrees C in Dublin today [Fig. C]. Miracles do happen.