It seems a long time ago since I began my clinical drugs trial, but now I am undergoing down titration - that is, a gradual reduction of dosage to zero.
Last week I underwent the same procedures that I had at the start of the trial.
It was all a bit amusing because the physiologist was on leave and the doctor was substituting and was not entirely sure what to do. In addition it seemed that all the rooms in the Loony Bin, and the Research Room in the main hospital were double booked. Not helping matters was the receptionist in the Loony Bin who I swear was David Walliams as Lou Todd. And with the doctor sharing a surname with a Little Britain character, it had a surreal air to it.
At least the blood-taking went wonderfully. For me, anyway. Just a tiny prick, first attempt, no mark, no bruising. Left arm - inside of elbow. The doctor had instructions on spinning some vials, and one of them had to be smeared on a slide. The instructions said "Wear gloves." She didn't. I ticked her off.
The following day was the scan. I was really not very nervous about it all. And as I approached the Loony bin, my mp3 player happened to play the wonderful Benedictus from An Armed Man: A Mass For Peace - I said last time that Karl Jenkins is looking after me, and this was evident again.
It was not painful or uncomfortable being in the scanner. The pain and discomfort were, once again, synthesised by pressure being brought to bear on my thumb. Again I was in an extraordinary limbo between waking and sleeping. Awake because I knew what was happening. Asleep because I was dreaming, lucid dreaming, but not the normal day dreaming I do at work or whatever...It was very pleasant despite the monotonous noise and the repetitive but randomly varying pressure on my thumb.
And then I had to leave the tunnel, which was a scary experience. I could not walk straight and I felt very fragile. It was difficult to get to the bus stop and I let buses go that would have meant changing. I had decided I was not going into work, and after bath I spend much of the afternoon sleeping. I felt like a zombie all day. Not entirely 'out of it', able to function on a day-to-day level, but not actually able to deal with crisis or confrontation should they have occurred.
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