This was the day when I was due to have my mask fitted. Not one of the plaster of paris affairs but a rather fetching plastic mesh contraption that had a touch of the Hanibal Lecter about it. Apparently I can keep it in due course - Halloween is going to be a blast!
So, follow me down the long, sterile corridor into a large room with a monster of a machine that has 'Varian' stamped across it's formidable head. Similar to a CT scanner but this baby is big.
I am invited to remove my upper clothing and to lie on the table that extends from the 'mouth' of the machine. A series of clear, shaped boxes are then placed under the back of my neck until one fits nicely.
Now, I am no Keanu Reeves but the lights are dimmed and I am bathed in a grid of green laser light giving me a distinctly 'Matrix' look. Quite cool, I think.
Three radiologists then busy around me for a few minutes, lights on and off, nudging me around until I am lying very straight. Don't move, whatever you do...
Picture this. You are lying flat on you back trying hard to remain absolutely still. You can't turn your head so you only have the extent of your peripheral vision to work with and the sound of a lot of activity going on.
Approaching steps and voices.
Suddenly, two radiologists appear at your sides holding on to your shoulders and a third produces a large 'D' shaped piece of solid hot plastic in front of your face.
Without delay the plastic is thrust down onto your face, moulding to the shape of your head. The radiologists use their hands to press the plastic close to your skin all around your head.
Fortunately I had seen a picture of a mask on the internet prior to attending so I had worked out that breathing would not be a problem as the plastic stretches into a chicken wire like mesh. Without this prior knowledge, this could have been a traumatic moment.
Hold on! I've just been mugged by medical staff. My sense of humour dictates that this is hilarious. Do you ever get one of those almost irresistible but wholly inappropriate giggling fits? Oooh, I was so close!
Lots of moulding and pressing later, the mask cools and the radiologists step back and admire their work. I now realise that I am utterly immobilised.
The lasers are switched on and off again, X-rays and measurements are taken and a series of stickers and markings are drawn on the mask. I am desperate to say "can you see what it is yet?" in my best Rolf Harris voice but can't talk as the mask has my mouth trapped.
Next, a radiologist seems to be drawing on my chest and asks me if anyone told me that this would be permanent. Sorry? What will be permanent? OUCH! One small stab later and I have my first tattoo. Not very rock 'n roll but a dot to align the machine when I come back.
Finally the job is done and the mask is released. Freedom.
Now I am told that all that is left to do is to go for another CT. With mask.
Oh no! I didn't particularly enjoy my CT as I found the contrast injection quite uncomfortable. The idea of being held down whilst another is done isn't appealing. Deep breath...
Into the CT room and lie down. My veins are starting to moan about the attempt to turn them into a Tetley tea bag surface with all the injections so the cannula takes a few attempts. Another ouch.
Soon I am clamped down by the mask and the CT goes ahead. This time the contrast was almost unnoticeable. Silly boy, what were you worried about?
All done and it's time for a cup of coffee...
