On the way to her morning study group, Clare dropped me off at Llandough Hospital at a quarter to ten this morning for a MRI pelvic scan. At half ten I was escorted to a mobile scanner unit located in the yard outside the Orthopaedic Unit, and subjected to five scans over the period of an hour. The last time I had this procedure was when I was about to shed a kidney stone, at New Year in 2009. Then I had to undress completely and leave outside any metallic objects. This time I wasn't required to undress, just uncover my pelvis to make room for a device which fitted over the area to be scanned, possibly to focus the magnetic field that generates the resonance images.
The scanner made five passes. Three with the machine making one frequency noise, then two more in a slightly different position at another. I think the second two were directed at my liver and right kidney to probe the anomalous signals registered by last week's ultrasound. I asked the scanner operator how long it would take for the report to reach the surgical team who had commissioned the scan and was disappointed to hear him say four or five weeks. Not much urgency there, I thought. I must ask my GP to chase it up. A long wait isn't improving things and may be taking its toll on me.
I walked out of the hospital an hour later and within a few minutes boarded a 95 bus. This dropped me at the end of Lansdown Road in Canton, a fifteen minute walk home. It conveniently offered an opportunity to do some shopping and then cook lunch in time for Clare's arrival. The inflammation today was worse than usual and I had to rest and recover after lunch. Then I wrote to my GP and took the letter around to the surgery, to get some exercise. Then, another evening in front of the telly with unseen episodes of NCIS and Bull. Rather too much of Michael Weatherly for one evening to be honest.
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