That's what the invite said. Am I now a big cheese, have they picked up my poor hygiene or was it to be a class in plastic moulding for middle aged males?
I think that I maybe said some time back that I perhaps painted such a positive picture of my treatment to Ellis & Keir - that they were speculating about whether I'd re-emerge with special powers after my exposure to radiation. (I'm sure they meant more special powers, but for once chose not to be picky.) The thing with radiotherapy you see, is that your body doesn't really like the effect and so they go to great lengths to try and make sure that they zap the right spot. And, for neck job like me, this means getting a mask fitted. Closely fitted.
I left Keir, on a sickie, chatting to a nurse about the number of buttons a snowman outfit should have and headed into the mould room. All very simple, sir, you lie there, we make a mould, then off you pop next door for a CT scan. Wow - if I could have seen myself it must have looked like some cross between Frankenstein and Sci-Fi - picture ones of those hi-tech scenes where grid of electrons criss-cross over the subject until a humanoid shape emerges. Except it felt like having a damp towel shoved down on my face while the nice lady was saying that it would be good if I didn't flinch, twitch, swallow or generally move at all for the next 15 minutes. About as dull a sunbathing I reckon, with the initial feeling that you'll suffocate even though it's a mesh and you can easily breathe through it. Breathing was allowed.
Stage two was to be a CT Scan - simples, I thought. I liked the one I had before much more that the MRI, that was claustrofobic. The catch was though that I was to do it with my new mask! You might find that the mask feels a little tighter now they said. Great, more sunbathing, but with a towel over my face that had dried off in the sun and gone that stiff way. With the added bonus of a wee injection of 'contrast', it'll make you feel hot, really quite hot and like you want to pee but you won't pee - so just relax, Mr Gowan und ve shall begin the procedure, ja. Think of the nurofen advert, one minute you take it, next minute there's a red-glow inside you searches down, deep down, inside you to find the target.
Now before we switch on the scanner - we all need to leave the room and you need to just lie there, perfectly still. Just shout (what through the towel?) if you need us. I'll put some music on. Oh no...we're now sunbathing in a tight mask with hot surges and some girlie pop playing. Note to self for Bond villain plot.
Then it was over as soon as it had began and I'm ready for daily masking and zapping come January. Can't wait.