Matters Arising

 

 

Tensions mount as the appointed hour for the great disclosure approaches. Although pretty cool about the whole thing, the nearer the disclosure the more, at an almost unconscious level, little anxieties creep in; “what ifs” abound. Perhaps some sinister shadowy condition is the source of my ailments, an organic disease that I’d rather be unaware of.  The whole episode becomes quite absurd, one has a scan to try to find out the cause of a certain condition only to (belatedly) realize that perhaps it would be better to remain in the dark about such causes.

 

My beloved was becoming more overtly concerned about what the scan may have disclosed; worried about organs of the body that may be diseased and, of which my severe discomfort may simply be an obscurely veiled indicator of a much more critical condition. Her obvious upset with this thought, found a counterpart in me as my (only vaguely considered) concerns were given body and substance. This was perhaps the transforming motive whereby my “Que Sera, Sera” was converted into an anxiety laden wondering what.

 

We visited my GP this morning; he soon put our minds at ease by saying that the report sounded much more sinister than it really was; amongst other things, the MRI had disclosed a 12mm hernia on one of the discs, it really is amazing what havoc such a tiny intrusion / protrusion, in the vicinity of the sciatic nerve, can wreak. He then presented me with the options of consulting a neurosurgeon or, “doing nothing” – quite simply continuing with a programme of pain management as and when necessary. For the time being, I’ve settled for the do nothing option as I’m all too well aware of the risks involved in any spinal surgery.

 

Should the extreme pain be sustained for increasing periods of time, becoming incapacitating on an even more regular basis than at present, that’s when the neurosurgical route will have to be followed.  

Sonic Vibrations

Disrobed and prepared, time hangs slowly, waiting to enter the unknown zone.

The first bit’s nice, lie down, head on the pillow; a pillow propping up the knees to ensure optimum stability and comfort, alleviates my anxiety regarding maintaining stillness for the duration. Headphones firmly clamped in place, emergency / panic button placed at ones fingertips and it’s all systems go. Just a last check to make sure one’s arms are well tucked in, before the slide into the cylinder begins.

Curiosity takes over and, I’m desperate to know how light or dark it’ going to be in the belly of the machine. As it turns out to be light, next decision to be made is do I close my eyes or leave them open; the awareness that its light also enables one to be fully aware of just what a confined space they are within. Close the eyes and this restraint has gone; there could be all the space in the world out there so, what’s the worry? To my surprise there are no worries at all, nor is there any real awareness of time.

The soundscape is rather like an avant-garde techno-trance experiment. What’s lacking in the drum and bass field is more than compensated for by the healthy bass balance in all the proffered sounds, bass, treble or mid-range. To my ears, this random array of note clusters strikes me as quite tonal, a remarkable absence of discomforting dissonance.

It’s virtually impossible to apply any regular time signature to this precocious rhythmical melody; at times one is aware of the absence of note-clusters, a blanketed industrial washing machine being heard some distance off, before the music begins again.

Following on from this excursion, to a rather exclusive little music club, my GP will be informed of the results of my MRI scan within two weeks.