Looking from the other side of the (MR)-eyeglass

See this post and more on my chondrosarcoma blog - http://ihavechondrosarcoma.blogspot.co.uk/ 

I was back in that familiar hallway.

Vintage posters advertising 'Imperial Airways' flights to the colonies lining the otherwise bare, beige walls. Macmillan brochures adorning seat-side tables. The toilet to be used "only by those who have taken radioisotope". I have been here many times before, I'm used to the procedure.

In about 10 minutes, I'll be called in and will lie down on a table that will slide into a big, doughnut-shaped thing. I will be told to lie perfectly still while water molecules in my body are aligned with and against a magnetic field in order to image my hip and femur. It's nothing dramatic and nothing to worry about. Mainly it's really boring.

I hear another patient – the one wheeled in on a chair and wearing a hospital gown – talking to their anaesthetist. I know you shouldn't listen in to what other patients say, but the symptoms sounded familiar to my own and perked my interest. It seemed that they were in to have a CT-biopsy on a tumour on their leg. The same thing I have had done three times before (twice in the last 6 months). 

They were really distressed – I think the diagnosis was still pretty new. And this made me feel rubbish for them. I kept thinking that it must be horrible to be in that position. To have spotted a strange growth on an X-ray or MRI, and to be referred for a biopsy to find out what's going on. Sat in the dark – waiting to be told what will happen to their body. It sounded horrible.

And then I remembered that I have (literally) sat in that seat before, pre-general anaesthetic in a surgical gown, waiting for a biopsy which will determine my treatment fate.

I found this strange – I'm pretty sure I must have been this worried and distressed the first time I went in for a biopsy, at least on the outside. But I don't remember feeling this way. And it's strange that I felt more sympathy for a stranger than for my own condition. 

The only explanation I have for this is that my diagnosis is still pretty 'abstract'. I'm sure that this isn't the case for every cancer patient, but although I have seen the scans (and feel pain in my leg) it still feels really abstract to me. I don't feel like I have cancer (I still find it weird calling it cancer – I prefer 'sore leg'). There's 'normal me' who I am most of the time and then there's 'cancer me' who I am when I go in for a scan or to see my consultant. But when I met this stranger, I met a real thing – a person with cancer – and this made it all feel a little bit more real.

Another unexpected outcome of being in the world of a (sort of) cancer patient.

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