The Colourful Patient.

So.......I  was up and off to the Princess Alexandra Hospital this morning for the results of my recent CT scan.I dressed all in blue even though I never get to use the 'Blue' lifts but made very sure I clashed with the 'Orange' lifts in protest.."Hello, How are you?" said a very smiley girl as the main doors slid open and I walked in."Good, thank you," I said and headed off to the Respiratory Outpatients Department.There was a lady with a very bad 'Carol Channing' wig on in the lift. The strands of hair looked like they had all the flexibility of a crash helmet.The Respiratory Outpatients Department was packed. I checked in and tried to find a seat. This is what battery hens must feel like I thought. Everyone about me looked the worse for wear and even the chatter seemed to change into a constant clucking sound. The 'barn' we were in was bizarrely decorated in bright colours and there were pictures of lambs on the wall.I was just wondering if I would have to do the breathing tests again when someone entered the barn and called "Nicholas Allen?"I walked over to the nurse."I just need to get your weight" she smiled......"Ooh, you are all in blue, even your shoes!""Yes," I said. I emptied my pockets so that it did not look like I had put on too much weight and stood on the scales. They didn't break."Right, the doctor will call you shortly," said the nurse indicating that I should go back to the chicken shed, "I like blue," she added.Back with the rabble I tried to tune out the clucking. Madonna was on the TV screen. She was all upset in Stockholm about the Paris events, "They want us to shut up. They want to silence us but we will not be silenced."'I'm sorry but I kinda wish you would be silent.' I thought.I didn't really want to watch the 'Today' special about the Paris attack but there was no where else to sit. It's not that I don't care about what has happened, I do, it is just that I still find it all too disturbing to comprehend. I am a chicken that would rather be an ostrich at the moment."Nicholas Allen?"It was Dr Fanning. I escaped the barn and went into his room."How are you?" He asked."Good," I said sitting down."Right, well, the technician has looked at your scan and he has measured it at about 1 mm bigger than before. So the question is, what do we do about it? ""I wonder what it is," I said."Well, we could leave it or we could just get it taken out," said Dr Fanning. " For me the thing that bothers me is that it is quite big to just leave it but it is a big operation to take it out........there are bigger operations.....but it is still quite a big operation."He went into thinking mode and I could see he was pondering heavily...."We might do a PET scan.......""What is the difference between a PET scan and a CT scan?" I asked."Well, a PET scan gives more detail," he said. "They inject you with a glucose solution and any active tissue, like a tumour, sucks it in and shows up as a 'hot spot' on the scan. The good thing about a PET scan too is that it will show up if there is anything else as it is of your whole body."I wondered if it was to see if I had any gerbils concealed about my body but I quite liked the sound of that. I think I am becoming addicted to medical procedures. I have had quite a few different scans now, ordinary x-rays, various ultrasounds, a few CT scans, an echocardiogram and a brain scan but  PET scan sounded 'Top Trumps'!"Well, I will go with whatever you think," I said." I think a PET scan is the way forward and then we can see how we proceed from there," he said. "Are there any other issues?""Well, I have been coughing quite a lot since my last cold and have difficulty clearing my throat," I said."Just pop up on here," he said indicating the bed.I lay down."Now you can sit up," he said. " You are all colour co-ordinated." He added."I am" I said.He listened to my chest as I took deep breaths but said that it all sounded fine.We sat back down at his desk and he got a form and started to fill it in."I'll see you again in 3 weeks after the scan," he said. "No diabetes?""No," I said, but was thinking 'not yet!'"Any issues with claustrophobia?""Only if it is underground," I said."Well, it is sort of underground," he said, "it is in the basement.""No, I meant like in a cave," I said, " where you are deep underground and you have to squeeze through a narrow gap and I would be thinking about all the rock and soil above me that could come down on me and crush me.""I don't think we need worry about that then," he said."Any questions?" he asked.I didn't have any."Right see you again in three weeks," he said and shook my hand.I dropped the form off at reception desk and she gave me an appointment for Dr Fanning on the 7th December at 8.45 am."They will let you know when your PET scan is," she said.I was almost out of the hospital when the smiley girl collared me again."Do you have a few moments to spare?""OK," I said.She went into automatic mode about the 'PA research department' and fund raising but I couldn't quite take it all in, then she mentioned raffle tickets and I thought ' oh well I can get one of those.' She had manoeuvered me towards a stand which had some raffle ticket books laid on it.She was wittering on and on and I was not really paying much attention as my head was full of gerbils and caves and big operations.I suddenly noticed '$100' on the raffle ticket book and she mentioned "$100" in her waffle.I stopped her." Excuse me, are you saying that it is $100 to buy these?""Yes" she said, " but the money goes towards the PA research centre.""I'm sorry I don't have $100 to spare, " I said."Well, as I said it is only $50 for half a book," she went on."I'm sorry, but I don't have the cash," I said."We take cards," she said but I was already heading for the door. She was not so smiley now.I walked out into the sunshine looking magnificent as my outfit matched the sky.