You get to do quite exciting things when you've been diagnosed with signs of prostate cancer. Late August I had an MRI scan of my pelvic region with a friendly chap at furness general hospital. I changed into my Wee Willie Winkie nightshirt, although I was allowed to keep my underpants and my shoes and socks on, which at first seemed curious, although, once I entered the scanner room I had to take off my shoes, but at least letting me keep my undies and socks on maintained a modicum of dignity.
There's this giant polo mint contraption in the room and very little else, which is a nice shade of magnolia as opposed to the bright white of a polo. I lie down on this platform in front of the polo and the nice man explains that because of the noise that the machine makes I will be wearing headphones. Into these cans, as we call them in recording land, they will play me music. I ask what kind of music will they play and he says that I have a choice between radio 2 and the bay. This is not exactly a choice but more of a less of two evils, and so i plump for radio 2. Mr friendly leaves and I am transported forward into the bowls of the giant polo.
Radio 2 is now playing in my ears some insipid soul hit from the early eighties which I vaguely remember not likeing at the time and dont want to hear it now.
The machine suddenley begins to emit the most hidious noise like a very bad loop of an ultravox intro that just loops and at an excruciating volume. Radio 2 disappears beyond this onslaught and I am immersed in a cocophony of bad synth stuff. then after an age it stops and radio 2 once again excerts itself with another bad tune, I wish I had gone for the bay at this point. The timbre of the machine changes again and we're in a dr who/star treck bunch of noise. On and on this goes as I try to enter into some zen kinda state to prevent my body from moving so as not to blur the image. The origonal theme of the machine returns to ulravox on a loop before the vocals kick in. The whole experience is somewhat industrial, a bit like working in the bowels of a submarine on the slipways back in the 60s.
It's very loud but radio two is still getting through and so I push the headsphone back trying to relieve myself of this torture. The scan stuff is fine but the radio is the real torture here.The machine goes through more synth stuff until eventually I hear the friendly man ask me to breath in and hold my breath, which I do and after a few more minutes it's all over. Very enjoyable except for radio 2 I tell the operative, plain ear defenders would have been less painful. I am transported on the flatbed beyond the polo and its all over, not painfull at all and beyond the scope of mr friendly to explain to my satisfaction. Something about huge magnets and radio frequencies, which explained very little except that I felt I had been in an episode of Startrek.
There's this giant polo mint contraption in the room and very little else, which is a nice shade of magnolia as opposed to the bright white of a polo. I lie down on this platform in front of the polo and the nice man explains that because of the noise that the machine makes I will be wearing headphones. Into these cans, as we call them in recording land, they will play me music. I ask what kind of music will they play and he says that I have a choice between radio 2 and the bay. This is not exactly a choice but more of a less of two evils, and so i plump for radio 2. Mr friendly leaves and I am transported forward into the bowls of the giant polo.
Radio 2 is now playing in my ears some insipid soul hit from the early eighties which I vaguely remember not likeing at the time and dont want to hear it now.
The machine suddenley begins to emit the most hidious noise like a very bad loop of an ultravox intro that just loops and at an excruciating volume. Radio 2 disappears beyond this onslaught and I am immersed in a cocophony of bad synth stuff. then after an age it stops and radio 2 once again excerts itself with another bad tune, I wish I had gone for the bay at this point. The timbre of the machine changes again and we're in a dr who/star treck bunch of noise. On and on this goes as I try to enter into some zen kinda state to prevent my body from moving so as not to blur the image. The origonal theme of the machine returns to ulravox on a loop before the vocals kick in. The whole experience is somewhat industrial, a bit like working in the bowels of a submarine on the slipways back in the 60s.
It's very loud but radio two is still getting through and so I push the headsphone back trying to relieve myself of this torture. The scan stuff is fine but the radio is the real torture here.The machine goes through more synth stuff until eventually I hear the friendly man ask me to breath in and hold my breath, which I do and after a few more minutes it's all over. Very enjoyable except for radio 2 I tell the operative, plain ear defenders would have been less painful. I am transported on the flatbed beyond the polo and its all over, not painfull at all and beyond the scope of mr friendly to explain to my satisfaction. Something about huge magnets and radio frequencies, which explained very little except that I felt I had been in an episode of Startrek.
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