I received my fathers’ medical notes and two CT discs. Reading my fathers’ notes it does not make senses. He should not of died at all and it was clearly neglect on the families side that he did. What ever happened up there it is clear I made the right decision by staying away. The internal arguing and lack of trust amongst the siblings was there for all to observe. Except no-one took the bull by the horn and stopped it. It makes me question some of the behaviour Steve has shown me. Maybe I am asking him to over react in some way.
Were people over reacting around my father?
Listening to some of the gossip that was being filtered my way it is clear that was happening. They had wrote my father off and were not listening to medical advice or at least instinct.
Not once did I feel I would die of breast cancer, but because my father had a brain tumour and died of renal failure. I have attached failings from prior medical situation that took place. The fact I was not around my father during that time has left questions unanswered. So fear has set in on a big scale and I am coming across neurotic. My only rock is Steve because he will not allow me to dwell on a situation. My father did not have that around him someone who was a rock. Instead he was allowed to go over something he had no control over which ended in him dying. I cannot go into details of his death, but it happened too soon.
This thing is not like cancer, but it still needs treating with kid gloves.
When I arrived at the hospital for my MRI scan in the afternoon. It was not the usual wait I have had on previous appointments. They took me into a small room and I filled in a questionnaire. The questionnaire was checking to see if I had any knowledge of any metal bits in my body. The only foreign body I have in my body is a silicone implant, but better to be safe than sorry I suppose. When I explained to the nurse my past Mr. meaner he listened on with amazement. Like everyone else who hears about my story it leaves an unbelievable look on their face.
Once I had removed any jewellery I was wearing and changed into a surgical gown. I was taken to a locker to store my belongings in and handed a key. I found this amusing because the key is metal so where can I put it. Certainly not on my person that is for sure. I dangle the key in front of the staff member. “Yes, please ask me why we give patients a metal key?” he replied smiling. He takes the key off me and hooks it up by the entrance to another room where the MRI machine is in. The room is really cold and I begin to shiver. They hand me some ear plugs to drown out the sound of the machine once I am inside. Then I am positioned on a sliding bed platform which moves you inside the machine for the pictures to be taken.
While they move my head into position and jam it in a plastic head braise with bits of foam so I cannot move about. I start to think about my father and how he felt lying on such a contraption. He was not a patient man, but a nosey one and liked to know how things worked.
I remember him coming back from a funeral where a member of the family had been cremated. Unlike every other family member who was stood in the room once the coffin had gone into the cremation area. My dad had snuck into the back to see how it was done even had a chat with the persons in the back. Everyone was searching for my father because they thought he might be upset. But no he just wanted to know how it all worked and what they did in the back. Yes it was a bit macabre and not in good taste, but he went into great detail about what he had seen and how certain things don’t disintegrate in the flames.
I know it seems strange bringing this particular story up, but this machine works in a similar fashion with no flames. I know how my fathers’ mind worked as well. Would of he remembered that day and made the same connection as I. In his frame of mind at that point had he decided what was wrong before the doctors. He did not trust doctors and their diagnoses. He was a strong believer in the body’s natural healing and how mother nature can outwit the best medical professionals. He proved that when they wanted to amputate his foot. The consultants could not work out how he got the circulation running in his foot without it dying.
It is strange how they give you ear plugs to block out sound, but they said you could bring a music CD. I decided if I did bring a CD I would be moving about to the tunes so I left it at home. Has my Nanna once told me I always fidgeted never sat still for a minute and I am still the same. Well give me some music and I start to choreograph a dance piece in my head and move with it. So music and me is a bad idea especially with lying still.
Once they have finished preparing me and the machine they explain it is done in two parts. They slide me into the machine for ten minutes doing whatever they do. Then I’m brought out of the machine and given an injection and go back inside the machine for more pictures to be taken. The whole procedure takes twenty minutes and pretty straight forward.
When I was put in the machine first of all I closed my eyes tight. I’m not keen on enclosed spaces because my eldest sister took great pleasure at locking me in cupboards. It was the highlight of her day watching the tears rolling down my face once she had let me out.
I opened my eyes it was not too bad it was really noisy though. There was a mirror acting like a periscope so you could see the doctors in the observation room. They were pointing to the screen and looking at it closely. I watch their responses for some kind of hint to what is happening on the screen. My eyes drift around the internal ridges of the machine. Its bright white interior was well thought out for those who are claustrophobic. My mind kept drifting back to my father when I laid there and wondering how he felt. Was he looking at the observation room searching for clues or did he closes his eyes tight. I know if he had a chance he would have a screwdriver and he would be taking the machine to bits. In his eyes there is only one way to learn and that is by taking something apart. You get a better understanding of how things work. He must of felt so helpless and frustrated with what he was going through. The same frustration I am feeling he must of felt. I have only looked over two pages of his results from his CT and MRI. From listening to gossip from my family he did not dare ask any questions let alone listen to what was being told to him. The fuss of the family must of driven him to a low point, but at least me going through this experience has answered some questions for me.
The cold in the room was making me shake uncontrollably. I started to speak out load “Get it together women stop shaking.” I said to myself.
Once they had finished the first half they slide me out of the machine to inject me with something. Still jammed solid so I could not move. I was so cold they could not find a vein on my arm so I hung it downward to help the X-ray person. She asked if I was ok and reassured me there was just another 10 minutes left as she prepared me to go back in the machine. I requested a blanket so I could get warm and eases the shivering. She explained the room had to be a certain temperature for the machine to remain cool. I already knew this from watching hospital programs I politely smiled back.
Before I knew it the whole procedure was finished and I was told to make an appointment for two weeks time for my results. Part of me just wanted the results there and then, but I knew the system to well now. So it is back to the waiting game and the doubts.
Steve had collected Sophia up from school and was in bed catching a snooze. Sophia was painting a picture while watching television. The pots were waiting to be washed in the sink which is the usual for Steve. So I went to the Fish and chip shop across the road instead of cooking something. Personally I did not feel like eating at all my mind was on what I had just gone through. But like the good little wife I am suppose to be I get savaloy and chips for my husband and sausage and chips for Sophia. I thought I’ll have a chip butty to see me through.
Once Sophia had finished eating I sent her to get ready for bed while me and Steve chatted about the day’s events. First we discussed his work then his university and finally the subject was moved to me. I tried to talk about my dad, but he was not interested. We stroked across the hospital subject because little could be said. There are no results and I have to make an appointment summed up the conversation. Then we sat there glaring at the television with nothing else to say.
The usual routine of washing pots and cleaning my daughters lunch box was set in motion. Married life don’t you just love it really!
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