Confusion Reigns Supreme

Today was one of the most comfortable days of my treatment so far.

I was due in for a mask fitting at 14:36 this afternoon. I arrived over half an hour early (always better to be early for these things, especially with the state of traffic between home and hospital) and I hadn’t even had time to start scrolling through my emails as I sat in the waiting room before being called forward to prep for the procedure.

Prepping involved stripping down to the waist and donning the oh-so-drafty hospital gown, signing my life away the consent forms and then being led away to be fitted with a face mask.

I was guided into the Mould Room and asked to lay down on the bed with my knees in the knee supports and my neck on the neck rest (it would have been awkward otherwise). After a few adjustments to both supports we found a comfortable position for me to relax in to.

They warned me that the face mask would be a little warm as they placed it over my face, neck and shoulders. Warm? It was like a hot towel from a Turkish barber, but drier. Cozier. Comfier.

I must admit I almost drifted off for a bit, but it was over too soon.

I couldn’t see anything from under the mask, but I could feel the nurses poking and pressing the plastic into the contours of my face, whilst discussing what they were doing amongst themselves. (Is this what an alien abduction experience feels like? Possibly…)

After ten minutes or so, the thermoplastic had hardened and my deathfacemask was set and i was sent back to the waiting room until they called me forward for the planning stage.

“They’ve asked us to use a contrast dye for this step, have you had one before?” the nurse asked.

“Yes, and I had no side effects afterward.”

“Excellent, Mr M, so how are your veins?”

“I’ve been complimented on them many a time just recently, thanks.”

“Really? Normally people say they’re just alright.”

And then she saw my outstretched arm, poised and ready for cannulation.

“Ooh! You’ve got some beautiful veins there…” And then she inserted the cannula. I always hate that fraction of a second of pain, but it has to be done.

They then took me in to the CT Scanner room, where the bed was laid out in exactly the same configuration as we had settled on in the Mould Room. The same neck rest, the same knee supports, everything so that I was as comfortable as could be for the scan.

I lay back and relaxed for a while as they clipped the mask into place before retreating into the control room. A voice came over the speakers from behind the window: “We’re going to introduce the contrast now…”

I felt the cannula in my arm begin to pulse as the iodine flowed into my veins, its warmth spreading first to my fingertips, up to my shoulders and then suddenly down to my groin. A feeling of having just wet myself without the embarrassment of actually having done so came and went momentarily, and finally after a few minutes of being sent through the machine as it buzzed and whirred around my head it was over. It was time for them to come and mark up the relevent points on the mask for targeting the radiation beams and then I was allowed to be on my way.

The next appointment will be a big one, although shorter in length. It will be the first dose of radiotherapy.