Anybody who's been reading this blog, or who has had the misfortune of talking to me over the past few weeks, will know I've had a bit of a problem with swelling. It's been lower legs and in both, though worse in my right. It's been a bit tiresome though tne word 'swelling' was a good source of childish innuendo in a chat with a male colleague. Nice to know it can be amusing I guess. Anyway my surgeon had decided to send me for a scan so that was my little adventure on Thursday. I'm not actually sure if adventure is the right word; I think adventures should have more excitement and less waiting around. And also I was feeling a bit of a fraud since the swelling had really gone right down this week.
I only actually got confirmation around 10am that I was booked in for 5pm. And that I was actually having 2 scans - a Doppler ultrasound and also a CT venogram. When I went to the hospital for 5.30 on Monday it took me over an hour to get there, so I decided to take no chances as I figured there'd be school traffic so I left work at 3. But the traffic wasn't there. The roadworks are still there but the cars werent. Luckily there is a cafe and free WiFi so I got some work done in the hour and quarter I had to kill. I could've done more as having got up to xray dept a little before 5 I found out Dr Farquharson, doing the Doppler was late leaving his Manchester hospital and had to get through the traffic, which was apparently more car-laden than mine was.
Anyway just after 5.30 he appeared, I got told to just remove trousers for this scan and then was taken into the ultrasound room. These things never fail to remind me of the antenatal scans. In fact given my weight gain I probably have a bigger belly now than I did for my first pregnancy scan! But no belly action here, this scan was on my legs which meant I was pretty much covered from hip to ankle in gel while the very friendly Dr F looked at my veins. I couldn't see the screen but he seemed to be quite happy it was all ok. After trying to wipe all the gel off (God that stuff gets everywhere!) I was taken back to the changing cubicle. I knew I'd need to remove my belly bar and was also told to take off my bra but could leave my top on. I'd got my laptop bag with me so I just tucked my bra and belly bar in that, and was just carrying trousers as there didn't seem any point lugging one of those baskets .
So I was taken into the CT room with Joe, who was in charge of proceedings there. I've had a couple of these before so wasn't overly worried, though not overly looking forward to needing to have the injection for the imaging dye. Joe started looking at my right arm but predictably couldn't find any decent veins there. So he moved to left arm and after quite a bit of clenching and patting he found a vein. Not that I was looking, I am quite a needle phobe and despite being a very brave girl giving myself those injections I just lay there with eyes shut and labour-like breathing. He got the cannula in but then seemed to be having problems and said it wasn't working and took it out. He said he'd go get Dr F and hoped he'd be better at finding a vein. Personally I've never had much faith in doctors and needles, I'd always prefer a nurse if not a phlebotomist. But Dr Farquharson (full name now as the tablet picked it up without me typing) is very nice so I was ok with it. Not that I actually had any say in it. I was literally just lying on a bed under a blanket while Joe had gone to fetch the good doctor. And I lay there for around 25 mins, I did actually doze off for a while.
Eventually Joe reappeared, apologetic for the delay and assuring me Dr F would be here soon. Sure enough he arrived and started vein hunting ( or should that be hunting in vain) in my right arm. For a while he thought he'd found one and started putting a needle in but soon realised it was futile and changed his mind and came to my left (where I had told him I had better veins but what do I know). Lots more squeezing, clenching, relaxing, tapping but no obvious vein. I did make the observation that we were in an air conditioned room and they were putting cold stuff on my arms, so really it wasn't that surprising my poor veins had shrunk away. He did actually say I'd made a good point but warm gel was banned for health and safety reasons. By this point I was cold and shivering, partly nerves too. I knew the chance of DVT was minimal and did ask if the Doppler had looked good couldn't we just give up and go home. But no. We went instead back to the ultrasound room. Yes it had actually got bad enough that they needed to use ultrasound to look for my veins. He looked in my right arm (yawn) and said they were basically rubbish. Then cane to my left and said that was definitely my better arm (yayyyyy like I hadn't told you that!). So having found the veins it was then time for the needle. He got it in, but god knows what else he was doing as there were about 5 teeth gritting, uber heavy breathing, occasional minor yelling moments. Anyway the cannula was in and then it was back to the CT room. At this point not only was I quite shaky after the needle action but also my groin had kind of locked and was giving me shooting pains so they wheeled me in like a proper patient. The scan itself was pretty uneventful, apart from the fact that as I went in and out the scanner the line feeding the dye into me kind of pinged across my face. But it all worked ok and after all the faffing that had gone before it was done in under 10 minutes. But all that faffing had taken its toll on my poor arm, which is currently a lovely shade of purple some 48hrs after the event.
But back to Thursday, I was released back to go get changed and told I could just leave, didn't need to see anyone else. So I popped my trousers back on and headed back downstairs. I'd decided I'd sit in the main waiting room for a little while to get myself properly un-whoozied but as I headed down I felt something was missing. I thought it was my jacket but I knew I'd left that in the car, but somehow I just seemed lighter. Then it dawned on me. My bra was still in my laptop bag. At the age of 51 & 3/4 I was walking round in public without a bra. I hastily headed to the ladies loo (arms now folded across chest) and re-bra'd myself, at least it wasn't like I'd had to see anybody I knew.
I haven't had the scan results yet. I saw my GP on Friday and though he'd requested them nothing had come through. Considering I do seem to have stopped swelling I'm not overly bothered. Assume it's fine. If it isn't and there's anything more dramatic going on I will be forced to blog again so let's hope it's all fine for your sake!
I have to end on a happy note as this last week has been a week of major achievements. Well they're major to me. They'll seem pretty inconsequential to many of my friends and colleagues reading this, but my fellow hippies will get it. Yesterday I put my sock on by myself, no gadget assistance. It wasn't elegant. It wasn't quick. It wasn't without muttered swear words. But I did it. On Thursday I wore a proper pair of shoes. They're not high but they are narrow heel and pointy, and they go a bit of the way to restoring my self esteem. I feel more feminine and less hospital patient in them. Today I wore a pair of pumps with laces and fastened them up all by myself.
And later on I climbed a step ladder. Only one step as that was all I needed but I did it without any worries. I would say I exercised educated caution but there was no fear. The groin is still a pain but I'm now finally starting to really feel good. And I have a week off work and a few days in the Moroccan sunshine to look forward to. Actually the forecast is for rain on one or two days but I'll still be in Morocco rather than Macclesfield or Middlewich. Life is good 😊
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