This morning I went to hospital for the next stage in my conspiracy with the global pharmaceutical complex.
I underwent various tests. The researcher asked me various questions about the various symptoms I have experienced ever since I went down with this syndrome. Some obvious symptoms - tiredness, interrupted sleep, muscular aches, inability to concentrate, memory loss, numbness, dizziness, pins-and-needles - and others that I had not really thought about but I have experienced, such as abdominal pain, sweating, or ones that I did not even think as being related - eg hot flushes, indigestion (and for those who know me, hiccups didn't even crop up...!). I was asked whether I had experienced palpitations and trembling. What, me...!
I then had to complete a sort of psychometric test, although I suspect it was more of a psychiatric self-assessment. I'm not sure how I'm going to come across. Happy, content, calm, confident, not afraid of arguing but not prone to violence. They also asked about strategies with coping with pain. I ticked high on the 'have a bath', 'take medication', 'lie down', 'listen to music', 'think about nice things' and 'read' and was shocked at how many times they mentioned god as a solution - then I realised it was American. The attitudinal one was Swedish and made no mention of god. I don't think so, anyway, my Swedish isn't too good*
The doctor arrived and checked my blood pressure with a stethoscope - 100/70, which is just cool. The last time I had it checked was a few weeks ago and it was 129/85. That was either because the electronic machine was buggered because of the stress I had experienced trying to book tickets in the opening seconds of ROH Period 1 booking opening. I'm tending to the former, because I had it measured again in today's session and it was in the high 120s, and the researcher said the machine is very unreliable.
The blood sample taking was rather stressful. I absolutely don't mind needles one bit;what I do find disturbing is when I have a needle inserted into what I trust is a vein and the doctor is sitting there looking puzzled because nothing is coming out. Not that it surprises me. I really shouldn't let men come anywhere near my veins. I have never yet had a man get it right first time. So I had to offer my other arm for the sacrifice. It's funny, but I am one of the most squeamish people I know, yet I find it utterly fascinating to watch as different tubes are attached to the needle sticking into my arm and my blood flows out. And I was disappointed I blinked as he removed the needle - that ought to repulse me, but it didn't. It makes me feel much worse writing this than it did experiencing it
Next was the EEG. I had sticky tape attached to my ankles, wrists, cleavage and stomach, to which were attached wires, which were attached to a machine, which transmitted the data to Belgium.
The bad news about this trial is that I should cut back on cigarettes and alcohol - no more than 25 fags and two glasses of wine a day. I said that should be fine - unless England go to penalties...I was asked if I had a history of drug abuse. Drug abuse! Me! As I said, one drag on a joint and I'm flat on my back!
I go back next week, first for a pain test and the following day for an MRI scan.
* it was, of course, in English!
