AT ENT I’ve discovered there’s always a lot of waiting around. You get given an appointment and you turn up on time but it has always been my experience that you have to sit and wait to be called.The first time the wait turned out to be what became fairly typical, about half an hour. But once we were finally let in, things started to happen.
A doctor looked at my swelling, and at my tonsil. He said the tonsil looked suspicious. I said I’d heard that before. Then he said he was going to do a biopsy of the swelling in my neck. There and then. Which he did. He stuck a needle into my neck. Without anaesthetic. He said it wouldn’t hurt and he was almost right. Then the doctor got his boss in to have a look at the tonsil. The doctor’s boss was a consultant who called himself Mr A. A is not his real initial. Mr A said he thought it looked suspicious.
I was called back the next week for the results. It turned out the results were inconclusive and they needed to do another biopsy. This one was called a Deep Biopsy and did need an anaesthetic. And a bigger needle. This time Mr A put the needle in.
I was sent off for an MRI scan and told to come back next week for the results.
The MRI was noisy. I’d had one before when I was getting diagnosed with MS so I knew what to expect. I went prepared to meditate through it. I was ready to lie on a beach in Carthage and stare dreamily out at the wine dark sea and the foot of the Atlas mountains. But instead I found myself drawn into the MRI’s rumbling noise, a kind of hypnotic drone I found myself rather liking.
When I returned to the clinic Mr A said he wanted to take my tonsil out.