Lucky knickers

Every six months I go to The Cancer Centre for an MRI scan. It’s to check if my grade 3 brain tumour is behaving or  has decided to live up to its diagnosis of being ‘incurable and terminal.’ Thankfully it hasn’t shown any interest in finishing me off in the last 6 years, but that initial diagnosis will always hangs as a shadow. The scans, whilst never fun, provide important reassurance that everything remains ‘very quiet and very stable.’

In order to gain a full and in depth picture, my MRIs are performed using a dye that gets injected into my veins. Gladolinium contrast dye is used to improve the quality of the images captured. Side effects are rarely serious…..I’m usually just left feeling very tired and a bit headachy, but that could happen to me on any day anyway, never mind when you add in a bit of scanxiety. 

The biggest problem with the dye for me has been my veins. They frequently go into hiding and refuse to allow even the most skilled medical staff to insert a cannula. I’ve had many scans performed without the dye, because a suitable vein couldn’t be found. 

In my experience the nurses in Radiology are excellent, but it’s not unusual for them to be outfoxed by my troublesome veins. This adds to my scanxiety. Despite being told that MRI without the dye is enough to show there has been no changes in my tumour, the scan results always fall a little short for me. Results don’t come out for 3+ weeks, so it can be a big buildup to feeling somewhat flat when I open the letter. It’s always a huge relief to get good news, but I  inevitably harbour a nagging doubt that something could’ve been missed.

From day one of my cancer diagnosis I have felt it important to try and help myself as much as I can. I learned some relaxation tips, improved my diet, and started my life changing sea dipping habit. Pre-MRI rituals are essential for me. I need to know I’m doing as much as I can to help get those veins popping! Any medical professional will tell you the best way to entice your veins out to play are to keep your weight at a sensible level, drink plenty of water and keep warm. Despite some menopause middle-age spread, I’ve managed to keep myself within a healthy BMI range through improving my diet, light exercise (granted, not as much as I should!) and cutting out alcohol. 

In the build up to a scan, I drink even more water than usual, and often travel the 50-odd miles to the hospital wrapped in layers of warm clothing, a blanket and nursing a hot water bottle. 

I’ll admit to some less scientific rituals as well. I have ‘lucky knickers’ that I always wear on scan days. They sport a rather fetching tartan pattern and were a gift from my big sister early on in my journey. It astounds me that they have always fitted, no matter my ever changing weight! Lucky and magic underpants. Today I bolstered their superpowers by wearing a lucky t-shirt. Given to me by my wonderful husband just yesterday, it shows a drawing of the singer Dougie MacLean and some of the words of his famous song Caledonia. As a Glaswegian I hold a special fondness for this song. A local legendary musician once dedicated it to me when he was playing a gig at a rock club we regularly attend. Afterwards I asked him how he knew I was Scottish, and he told me he hadn’t known but he thought it was a nice song to dedicate to me! It was also one of the songs I chose for my dad’s funeral…..alongside Flower of Scotland and Abide with Me. 

Winter scan days, in spite of the layers, frequently result in vain attempts at getting a vein. Summer scan days provide more hope. This morning hubby drove me up to the hospital as always. The weather has been beautiful of late and I watched the thermometer in the car tick up and up as we got closer to our destination. By the time we reached the Cancer Centre, I was sweating and was desperate for the loo after drinking so much water. I got out of the car and danced  alongside my rock of a husband, windmilling my arms like an overexcited child (windmilling is another ‘top tip’ I recently read about in relation to encouraging veins!) and feeling optimistic in my Scottish underwear and t-shirt.

As I waited to be called, I proudly showed hubby the veins on my arms, knowledgeably pointing to the ones I felt were ripe for the puncturing! 

Happily, it was the most successful vein finding exercise I’ve ever experienced. The nurse got a juicy one first time and I had my full scan, event free.

I now begin the seemingly impossibly long wait for results, but I’m putting my full faith in my lucky underpants and tee!

Never underestimate the power of belief!! 

To be continued when the letter arrives in a few weeks time……. Maybe I should make sure I’m dressed correctly before I open it?!! 

For now I’ll put today behind me, and go on Living With xx