Don’t look down. That’s what they say when you are clinging onto the side of a mountain, or up somewhere high and terrified you will fall. I felt the same kind of panic when I went to have my bone scan this week. I get a little claustrophobic in tight spaces. This was my second radio-active injection for the week. We had made the appointment so that while we waited the three hours between the injection and the scan, we could visit our grandson Josh who turned eight that day. The only problem was, now granny was a tiny bit radio-active, not enough to bother grown ups and older kids but I wasn’t allowed to nurse our little great grand-daughter Amaya, which really sucked. I hadn’t seen her for weeks and was busting a gut to have a cuddle. I am sure since she is a smart little thing that she would have interpreted my crazy dancing and facial expressions from a distance as the love I was trying to convey.
Celebrations over with and back to the scan. The machine was about half the length of my body, much the same as the one used for my lymph node scan the week before only now you lay, facing upwards and the machine comes down to about an inch away from your face and stays there for about 5 or 6 minutes, which doesn’t sound long, but is if you have an active imagination like mine. I started to think of the movie Houdini I had seen years before, Tony Curtis AKA Houdini was dropped chained up in a box, through an ice-hole in the frozen river. He was meant to escape and appear safe and sound through the ice-hole a couple of minutes later. Only problem was the river current took the box down stream, and Tony couldn’t find the hole to get back out. Everyone assumed he drowned and went home, they didn’t know Tony was very resourceful and we saw shots of him coming up to take gulps of air in the tiny pocket between the water and the ice. Eventually, he found his way out and I and all my other claustrophobic friends heaved a sigh of relief and vowed never to try that at home. I was snapped out of my icy water imaginings by the technician who very nicely but firmly told me to keep still or we would have to start all over and to just keep my eyes closed. Don’t look apparently applied here as well as on mountain tops. ‘I will be right here she said, you just need to keep your eyes closed and don’t open them till I tell you to’ Five minutes seems like an eternity, I just lay there and spent the time catching up on some praying, you could also count slowly to 300 to wile away the minutes. I had to fight the urge to open my eyes, I just kept saying to myself, don’t do it you will freak out when you see the machine right in front of your face. Also Julie’s voice kept repeating, ‘don’t open your eyes, you’re doing great’ It wasn’t long till I could open my eyes and the machine was passing further down my body. It took about 40 minutes all together. Sometimes, you just have to man up, or should I say woman up. I realised that may not be the last time I will have a bone scan in my life, so I may as well get used to it.
On the way home, I went to call Troy to see how things turned out at Lesa’s Doctor appointment, she is having various tests to find out the source of her pain over Christmas and New Year. There was an unknown voice message, which turned out to be Royal Perth Hospital, ringing to make an appointment for me to see the Oncologist. They had receive a referral from my breast surgeon that morning. Funny thing is I don’t see the surgeon till Monday to get my results, and even though I kind of knew from the type of tumour I was meant to have that Chemo may be part of my treatment, it was weird to hear about it back to front.