>The truck parked outside the hospital was not the most inspiring sight I’ve ever seen. Perhaps Eddie Stobart is moving into healthcare I thought.
“Its a mobile unit, down the corridor and take a seat. They’ll come to get you” said the lady.
And so I sat patiently in a largely empty waiting room. The small tv in the corner provided the ‘entertainment’. It was that or attempt to read the overly simplistic headlines on a crisp copy of the Daily Mirror that the gentlemen opposite was immersed in. Alan won. And so it was some light hearted commentry on the demise of girl bands and the demand for more allotments in London. Inspirational it was not, time filling it most definitely was.
After half an hour or so, I was eventually taken up and into the large articulated trailer. It was much smaller inside than I had imagined. After answering some key safety questions I was slid into the large doughnut like object that represented my eternal hope, no doubt worth millions, this MRI scanner was the one the one machine that could hopefully solve once and for all, what is the matter with my knee.
It was much noisier than I was expecting, it rattled and vibrated and even with a large set of muffled earphones on, it was hardly peaceful, just intensely dull.
30 or 40 minutes later and it was all over. I peered at the black and white imagery intensely hoping to receive an answer there and then. Alas not, it would take some weeks for the images to be interpreted.
Its back to the waiting game again.