Thursday 2nd January

We set off early for our 100+ mile journey to Exeter, arriving about 11:30am. Husband drops me off and continues into the city with elder son, (no point staying, as they wouldn’t be able to accompany me during the testing!).

My first stop was to oncology where I had to pick up a trials worksheet, and other paperwork.

I then walk down the hospital’s long corridor to Medical Outpatients. I didn’t even reach the reception desk, but was intercepted by a lovely  voluntary worker who asked where I needed to go. She took me to a room marked ECG, knocked on the door, and told me to take a seat: the door opened before I sat down! A number of sticky pads are attached to my ankles, tummy, chest and neck ~ no more than ninety seconds later and it’s all over. The only data I understand from the printout is my heart rate: 65 bpm, not too bad, I suppose!

My next move is back along the corridor to x-ray for a CT scan. Here, I have a wait of about ten minutes, then I’m ushered down the department hallway to a cubicle, and told to strip off, and put on a wonderfully fetching hospital gown. My name is called, and into the room I go. Lying down on the couch I have to clench and unclench my fist with a tourniquet tightly around my upper arm. A needle is inserted into the vein of my right arm, in the crook of my elbow and secured in place. I then have to raise both arms above my head; as the nurse leaves to go to the safety of an enclosed ante-room, my back and forth journey through the big white doughnut begins. As the radioactive dye enters my system I get a metallic taste in my mouth and a warming sensation. Thorax, abdomen and pelvis are first to be scanned, followed by head and neck. The whole procedure is over in less than half an hour, the nurse removes the line from my arm and sticks a dressing on. Thanking her, I leave, get dressed and go and find the coffee shop! Not having eaten breakfast, but just the requisite 500ml of water an hour prior to the scan, I was looking forward to a cappuccino!

My last port of call was to the Eye Unit. When I arrived at reception there was no record of my details on the system. A quick visit to one of the consultants, and he knew why I was there, and what tests to carry out. A standard eye test was followed by some strange drops into my eyes. Two vials were mixed together, forming a fluorescent yellow liquid ~ and it did sting ~ making me cry toxic tears. Various eye movements were called for, as the consultant peered through lenses and shone bright lights to carry out a variety of retinal ophthalmic examinations.

And then, it’s all over for today. Not too much waiting around, nothing particularly painful and everyone so kind and helpful. Our drive home begins, and we are there in time for dinner.