I wrote recently about the embarrassment that people face when it comes to health tests.
Since then, I myself have been through a test that, as if childbirth had not already done so, stripped me of any remaining dignity.
The relief at getting it over with was practically palpable, and home I went for a long bath and a glass of medicinal vino
This is the kind of test that most folk will never have dreamt of, in their wildest imaginings.
I could have chosen to keep quiet and, until I’d processed the horror, that is what I did, but that way silence lies, as opposed to openness, frankness, and getting yourself to the GP if anything is wrong.
So, instead, I choose to share my tale of woe. I won’t go into detail, but I have sunk to new lows.
I had an MRI last week (specifically a defecating MRI, let your imagination do the rest), followed by a fluoroscopy that involved an x-ray toilet.
You read that right.
The relief at getting it over with was practically palpable, and home I went for a long bath and a glass of medicinal vino.
I had thought things didn’t get much more humiliating, but this morning, QA rang me and said that the settings on the MRI hadn’t been right, so could I please return for another.
The lady on the phone was very humble and hugely apologetic, given the ludicrous nature of the test I will have to endure yet again. Especially due to the fact that someone had managed not to put it on the right setting. I appreciate it’s more complex than a toaster but, I say again, What?!
Adding insult to injury is the fact that I don’t even have symptoms that warrant any of this testing. I was sent off to QA by what the consultant suggested was an over-zealous GP.
But still, it’s been an experience. The kind that I presume some freakish fetishists would be eager to record and flog on the dark web.
So, should you have any tests coming up that are embarrassing, or something to see the GP about that you’re putting off, just think of me and the MRI machine.
THE HAPPINESS BRIGADE DRIVE ME BONKERS
I read something recently about all of this ‘be happy’ stuff getting spouted everywhere, and incessant positivity.
You can’t get bogged down by the minutiae but, equally, when you’re not happy about something, why on earth shouldn’t you have a jolly good rant and a moan?
A rant and a moan are part of the getting-over-something. They are part of our gaining perspective and trying to feel happy again. But we do not need to spend our lives beaming like idiots while traversing traumatic times, just because an endless flow of Facebook memes suggests we should.
A little self-pity works wonders. We turn from the negatives to the positives, and that’s what life is all about.
ALL WE NEED IS A BIT OF PERSPECTIVE
It’s funny what you can go through as a human being and still come out surviving.
My MRI tale of woe is seriously small-fry compared to what, for some people, makes up their everyday existence.
We so often get our priorities wrong and, of course, everything is relative.
But it does make you stop and think, ‘does it really matter?’
So you’ve got to work overtime, so you’ve got to pay out for the MOT from hell, so you’ve had an argument with the next-door neighbour.
All of these have the scope to become big things, depending on our circumstances, but more often that not they are pretty meaningless when we gain perspective and have a chance to reflect.