The pit and the pendulum

It's a bit like The Pit and the Pendulum. When the guy is strapped down and slowly inching towards the swinging axe to be sliced into two equal servings.

At first sight, the MRI scanner looks scary. A beige tunnel just big enough to slide a body through. Claustrophobia is the first reaction. And the second. And the third. Lots of comforting talk and confidence-inspiring words from the lady in charge of the switches and monitors in the control room and then I am positioned on the tray with my feet in the tunnel. No need to undress, although I have to pull my trousers down to my knees. "The metal zip is a problem in the magnetic field." I am given a blanket to cover my blushes.

A panic button is placed in my hand and ear defenders are clamped onto my head. The bed slides slowly into the tunnel and my nether regions positioned precisely for the best pictures. I'm very relieved that this leaves my head just outside the gaping maw. Some more calming words over the headphones and then I understand the need for the ear protection. Even with these I can hear a series of clicks, clunks and hums as the magnetron, or whatever it's called, revs up. This builds into a very lifelike sound effect of a demolition squad on overtime as my bones and organs are photographed. Then there's a break and a voice asks if I'm OK and tells me I'm doing well. The bed moves forward a few centimetres and the squad resumes its demolition.

Faith has given me some meditation tips which I try. No way with this racket going on. So I try to visualise myself in my boat 'Guardian Angel', hauling in some fish from from that calm Kalymnian sea. That works for a while until I catch myself drifting into sleep. I fight this, reasoning that I could panic when I wake in the machine.

Thirty minutes later it's done and the bed slides back out. It's not finished, though. My doctor has decided she would like a liver scan, as well. If you are familiar with anatomy you'll know that the liver is higher up the body than the prostate. You've guessed it. This time my head goes into the tube, but not completely. Just as far as my nose. One advantage of my 6 feet 3 inches is that I can just see the outside world, although by this time I have conditioned myself and claustrophobia is no problem.

This scan involved lots of breath holds. "Breathe in and hold for 20 seconds - well done, breathe freely". Another thirty minutes and it's all over. A coffee with Faith in the hospital restaurant and now just a few days wait while the doctor analyses results . . .

tags: mri  prostate  scanner  cancer