Ever since my aborted MRI back in 2019 when my myeloma was diagnosed, whenever a doctor has raised the subject of MRI I've told the story and said that I'll need heavy sedation, preferably to the point of unconsciousness, to be able to get through it. "Yes," they've all said (including the recent neurologist who ordered the scan), "no problem, just tell the radiologists when you arrive and they'll sort you out." Someone from Radiology phoned up a few days ago to run through a list of questions about whether I have any metal objects on or inside my body, and etc. Sue took the opportunity - yet again - to talk about sedation and got much the same response.
So we arrived this rather early morning and were rapidly and efficiently whisked into Radiology where we asked the question."No, no way, we don't do that and even if we did it needs a prescription from your GP..."
To cut the story short, they agreed another appoinment 10:00 tomorrow, and we shot off to arrange a prescription from our GP - Sue did all that, I'm just too slow over the ground these days. And she had to go back in the afternoon to collect what the doctors in their wisdom had decided on - four 2mg diazepam tablets to be taken between last thing tonight and the time of the scan. That's barely enough to knock a mouse over and I doubt it'll have much effect on me. I have considered washing them down with a bottle of Shiraz for greater effect...
(Sidenote: since the stay in hospital my desire for a glass or three of red in the evening has faded completely away - it's well over a week since I had one)
And one mort thing - tomorrow, the day of the rescheduled scan, just happens to be our Ruby (40th) wedding anniversary and we had shunted all sorts of other things around to keep the diary clear. You can imagine how we feel about that!
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