Ridiculous true (and probably, common) story

I had my first MRI scan in the type of scanner that only your top half goes in to – it wasn’t at all like the full-body-claustrophobia-inducing ones I’d seen on Casualty (that essential and most accurate source of medical information).

The staff at St. Cross, Rugby were lovely.  Very reassuring.

It’s noisy in there (they give you noise-reducing headphones with optional Rugby FM), but there’s a clever little mirror just in front of your eyes that is positioned so you can see the technicians in their office, which really reduces the ‘closed-in’ feeling.

It’s not the most enjoyable way to spend 20 minutes, but it wasn’t half as bad as I was expecting.

The results came back a couple of weeks later – not that my GP mentioned it to me, bitter, moi? – with some “T2 high activity areas” and a note from the neurologist stating that “there (was) nothing else I can contribute here”.  Hmmm.. helpful.  

I was fuming that no-one, not the neurology consultant nor my GP, were able to offer me an explanation of what that means, or where I should go from here. I can’t imagine why explaining the results of a test to a patient is not a standard, and crucial, part of the treatment process, even if nothing of immediate concern is found. What sane patient wouldn’t want to know this information?

The “don’t worry, dear, let the clever doctors worry about it” approach to GP-ing is not for me, thank you.

But don’t worry, Mr GP, I’ll find a headache expert on Google to explain to me what it all means.  (Is that ridiculous, or what? That’s actually how I discovered what my results mean.  Sigh.)

Charlie wouldn't let this happen.  Just sayin'.

Charlie wouldn’t let this happen. Just sayin’.


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