Archives For mri

The 6th of February.

My arm really fucking hurts today. I don’t know what it is, and I doubt I’ll actually find out much tomorrow because a radiographer will need to interpret the scans.

I had a horrible dream about a child being run over multiple times, so it took me ages to get back to sleep. This morning, I wrote up a blog post, then I returned to crocheting the scarf, because it doesn’t seem to make my arm any better if I do nothing.

After lunch, I listened to The News Quiz, then watched the new episode of Black Lightning while I did my exercises again. We’ll see if it’s the cause of my extra back pain when I get up tomorrow.

Really hope my new glasses come in tomorrow, then we can pick them up after my scans.

The 7th of February.

Well, today has been really rather good. This morning, I had my scans. Getting there was not fun – the traffic was very bad, and the car park was so rammed, it was hard to even find a place to pull over so Daddy could drop me off (Mommy had had to take Grandma to Good Hope for an echo). I arrived about five minutes before we were meant to start, but it was okay. Had to go through all the usual questions about metal in my body, then one of the techs tried to find a vein so they were ready for the injection when Andrew came. However, my veins didn’t want to cooperate, so we gave up and did the MRI on my cervical spine (to see if there’s a reason for the numbness in my right forearm). I got an itchy nose mid-scan, but I was able to ignore it. When I came out, Andrew was there, and he went hunting for veins. Still not very forthcoming. It got to a point where he was considering a different kind of scan, but it was a cardiac one and I didn’t have an appointment there. On the fourth go, in the underside of my wrist, he got a cannula, and we were able to do the MRV. He’s going to look at the pictures and see me in clinic. Pray for answers!

I rang Piccadilly to see if my glasses were ready but they won’t be in until tomorrow. On that way home, we got a pretzel from M&S, now a rarity, and this afternoon, I have been crocheting the scarf again, thankfully without pain. My back has also not hurt any extra today, so in all, a win!

veins

 

The 7th of November. 

Feeling less shit today – no murdery dreams and my muscles are not so sore, so overall generally better. 

This morning, I wrote up a blog post while shouting at the Tory voices on Victoria Derbyshire. Eventually, I had to put on an episode of Bones because I was getting my blood pressure up. Then I put together the final gnome and took some photos of them all together. Now they’re sitting on the mantelpiece, having a lovely time. 

After lunch, I started work on the next Christmas project, but didn’t get much done before Ann and Tom, the couple interested in Callie and Carlton arrived. They pretty much immediately fell in love with them, as I expected. They are just too gorgeous to not adore. They’re going to change the kittens’ names to Molly and Bertie, so we’ll have to get used to calling them that. Plus they’ve given us blankets for them to get used to/put their smell on. 

After they left, I tried ringing the GP again to talk to this secretary who’s been trying to talk to me. I rang this morning, but she wasn’t available so I was told she’d ring back. When I tried again, she’d left. So then I talked to the team leader who did some investigating, but couldn’t get to the bottom of it. She’ll try again tomorrow, and maybe I’ll eventually find out what they want!

The 8th of November. 

Well, local anaesthetic in the eyelid is, much like most of the local injections I’ve had, not that bad. The only distressing local in the past was for the bronchoscopy, but that was for more psychological reasons than physical. 

Anyway. I was up just before six, because we had to be at the QE for eight. I was first on the list, which I was pleased about. I met Mr. Kolli before going into theatre, and we had a brief chat before he drew an arrow on my forehead so they didn’t do the wrong eye. Then I didn’t have to wait long for the theatre to be ready, so I put on my gown (over my clothes) and shower cap and went to lie down. 

A nurse put some music on (classical, disco, La La Land, Sinead O’Connor) and poured what felt like a gallon of two different strengths of anaesthetic drops in, with a tissue at the side to stop them escaping. Another nurse took her place, and I was given his hand to hold while Mr. Kolli injected the local into my lower eyelid. They both warned me about how awful it would be, so I was surprised to find it really wasn’t so terrible. Not that it was pleasurable, but I didn’t scream or even flinch, which he can’t remember witnessing with any previous patients. Brave Kathryn strikes again. 

Finally got round to zapping the rogue five lashes, and I didn’t feel a thing. So now they’re gone. I have antibiotic ointment to do four times a day (along with all my other drops) and I sported a very fetching eye patch until half past one. We’ll see if it has held off the bruising tomorrow. 

The 9th of November. 

This morning was arduous and long and frustrating. First was lung function. For the first time since I was at the children’s hospital, I had to get in the box (see photo below). Same tests, just different room/equipment. They took forever, it seemed, partly because I had to do one of them four times, plus she had to get some blood from me and it all just added up. Knackering. Then I saw Dr. Thompson, and he was not full of joy. The numbers are the worst he’s ever seen (for me), which is what I was expecting. We compared some x-rays from now and last year, and it is quite clear that the right lung has shrunk and the chest wall has sunk in, so I have less volume and the way I feel now is the new baseline. Great. 

Got out of there about half eleven, so just had time to get some coffee before going to see Andrew. That was a very confusing chat. It seems the lymphoscintigram actually showed that the right side works better than the left, because the lymphatic system is compensating for the rubbish venous flow. So now he wants an MRI with gadolinium so we can get a definitive picture of my anatomy. Which will require careful booking because he or a colleague will need to be there. JOY. And even when we know what is going on where, what we do is still up in the air because so many things could go wrong. Numbness, he cannot fix, but can sort out another MRI for that and refer me for nerve conduction studies. 

I don’t make any sense. 

The 20th of August. 

It has been a really good day. 

I got up at a normal time, and the pain I had while making my breakfast was mitigated by the fact that I knew I was having my MRI this afternoon and soon we will know things. I had an email from Sheila to say that the lady I was going to ring had phoned her this morning to say she definitely wants the cat she saw last night, so she wasn’t going to come and look at Nova. Fine with me!

Went out at half eleven to meet Rachel for lunch at Yorks at twelve. It was the one on Stephenson Street which I hadn’t been to until today, so it was nice to see it in person. She was already there when I arrived, and brought me some water which was secretly infused with cucumber and the taste was very confusing. We had coffee, then I ordered eggs benedict for my lunch which was really good, and I only stopped when I choked on a tiny piece of egg which tried to go down the wrong hole. It was my own fault; I tried to talk before I swallowed. I gave her the flowerpot kitty, which might upset their budgies but hopefully they don’t attack it. We just had a really nice catch up, talked about her PhD, my kittens, fun dogs, and watching people outside in the ever-changing weather. 

Mommy came to pick me up about twenty past three to take me for my scan, asking everything moved very quickly! No time to even get my book out, let alone read any. I got changed into a gown and went into the room having answered all the questions, I lay down, and they put a support under my knees and gave me some earplugs. They put the alarm button in my hands incase I had a panic (I never do), and they put some blocks either side of my head and a cage (it’s not a cage but I can’t think of the right word) around my chest to keep me still, then put a blanket over me because I was a bit cold. 

Then I just lay there, eyes closed and cursed silently when my leg would spasm. Listening to all the different noises, imagining all the waves moving through my body. I was in there much longer than I expected, and I was really hot when it was over. So glad to get that blanket off. I was pulled out by two new people who’d taken over, and I put in a plea for the report to be done asap. We can but hope!

The 21st of August. 

Normal service has resumed; back to doing very little. I was able to have almost a normal amount of orange juice this morning, so that consistent treatment of the ulcer on my tongue must be working. Right after we’ve got a load of Difflam. Still, it lasts a long time so I doubt it’ll be wasted. 

Sunday Brunch all morning, which today involved retriever puppies and Miles Jupp whose cackle I just adore. Grandma arrived towards the end having been picked up from church. Daddy fixed my wheelchair because it has been misbehaving a little, but suddenly came over all weird and spent a lot of the rest of the day in bed. It happened on Friday evening too and we can’t really work out a trigger. It’s very mysterious. 

We had pheasant for lunch, then I have spent the majority of my afternoon crocheting the jumper. Twenty two rows of fifty stitches takes a good few hours, and now I’ve got to the end of the end of what I’ve deemed the first section. When I’d got to the end of row 32, I started Slade House by David Mitchell, and have got through the first two chapters. I don’t think it’ll take me long to finish. 

Just had Taid in the phone and his helper woman has just quit without warning and actually without word at all – he’s had to ring her son who has spoken to her and she’s just ignoring the situation completely. She has, in effect, ghosted on him and I’m so, so appalled. I’d like to call her up and ask her who the hell she thinks she is.