I was back at the Bath clinic a week or so later for my CT / MRI scan. The process wasn’t too strenuous, although the machine that you get put through is a little uncomfortable. You lie flat on a bench which is moved through a large circular scanner. It’s a tight fit for most people which means it’s more than snug when you’re 6’4” and constantly carrying a little holiday weight, shall we say. The lady who was doing the scan was lovely, as pretty much everyone I’ve been in touch with in this whole journey has been. She asked a few questions about why I was there and what I’d gone through so far and she was very reassuring. Once she had made me comfortable and explained the process she retreated into a small office and watched proceedings from behind a glass window. Her office contained someone else who I believe was the radiographer and also a screen or 2 that showed the live version of the scan I was having. After each scan she came back in to see me and told me how well I’d done. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that lying down was something of a speciality of mine, I just took the praise as graciously as I could! When all the scans were done she was back in the room again. She helped me off the bench and gave my arm a little squeeze and she said that she thought everything would be just fine. I didn’t know if she had seen the live scans and knew it was all fine, or whether she was just being supportive so I didn’t read too much into things, as much as I wanted to.

In the week or so I was waiting to get the results of the CT / MRI scan I went to a hospital in Bristol to have the needle biopsy and ultrasound scan done on my groin lymph nodes. The needle biopsy was especially painful as the guy shoved the needle into my groin and then with the use of the ultrasound he wiggled the needle around, whilst inside me, to try and hit a specific lymph node that he could see on the screen. No point having local anaesthetic because it will be as painful as the biopsy itself, he had lied. Just before I screamed the place down and physically removed the needle myself, he said he’d got what he needed and patronisingly told me that “that wasn’t bad now was it?” I tried to force my fakest smile but gave up and hobbled out of the room muttering to myself like some kind of cartoon character.