From NHS to RHS

This morning began earlier than usual. I set the alarm for 6 am as my church Cell group has called for a day of prayer and fasting in preparation for the 'Church in the Park' event, 24th/25th May. Quick shower, then on to the prayer meeting at our Cell leaders' home where I did my usual 'Quiet Time' Bible reading. We offered prayers in the Spirit. At 8.50 am I drove on to June's house and collected her, then on to Guildford. June's navigating was excellent. The Jarvis Centre is the NHS at its very best. It's in an old maternity unit and as you enter the foyer, there is a good feeling. Soft, relaxing music plays in the background; a well-kept, well-stocked tropical fish tank offers therapeutic viewing; a receptionist greets you and invites you to take a seat; there are magazines to read or even some knitting provided; a 'Flavia' hot drinks machine dispenses a choice of decent beverages; comfy chairs and pleasant décor complete the picture.

I was called through promptly, and a nurse checked my details and explained what would happen. She returned me to the waiting area and the radiologist came to collect me. She (all the staff at the unit are female) explained the doctor wanted some X-rays which would show a particular area which wasn't easy to reach. It took a few slides before she was satisfied and returned me to the waiting area. The doctor came and collected me and explained that in comparing my recent mammograms with the previous ones, there was a change. She showed me the small cluster of white specks, explaining they were calcium deposits which might not be sinister, but she wanted to perform a needle biopsy to check that there were no abnormal cells in the area. To do this would require another X-ray to guide the needle to the right place, and she would inject some local anaesthetic first.

We went to a different room with another X-ray machine where I was required to sit in a stret-chair naked to the waist with a polythene apron covering my (clothed) lower half. Two radiologists worked to force as much of the breast into the X-ray machine as they could, my arm lifted high then draped across the top of the machine, and my chin elevated so that the machine could scrape down the breast bone to ensure that the X-ray would target the right area. The doctor asked me to keep very still and suggested I 'take myself to another place' so I closed my eyes and relaxed, silently repeating "God is the peace in which I rest". It did help. The nurse came in and commented that I looked very relaxed, as though I was dropping off to sleep. "Do you do yoga?" she asked. I'll confess I felt a little resentful at having to answer, as I had to leave that 'other place' to do so, and trying to speak when your neck is stretched and your chin sitting on top of a hard object without moving your chest is, I think, nigh on impossible. "No, I've been saying to myself 'God is the peace in which I rest'" I told her, and had to repeat it as she didn't catch it first time.

As to the procedure, it's a little painful when the needle goes in and when the local anaesthetic is being pumped in, and there is a sensation of pressure when the biopsies are being taken (about 6 or 7, I think – there's a loud click each time), but nothing beyond endurance knowing that it will only last a short time.

Afterwards I was pronounced fit to drive, and June and I headed off to the Royal Horticultural Society Gardens at Wisley. Although not as bright and sunny as recent days, the weather was much milder than it has been. We walked through the gardens enjoying the spring bulbs, checked out the model allotments and then finished at the glasshouse with exotic orchids, succulents and cacti on display. Beautiful!