As the radiologist plunged a needle back and forth into my neck to sample a thyroid cyst near my right carotid artery i thought i would try to relax by using some 'creative visualization' techniques that i vaguely and probably incorrectly recalled from med student level psychiatry lectures. I imagined myself in "The New Forest" in England- a forest like you see in those wall murals of forests.
Beautiful trees- bark like the crust of a good rye bread, dappled autumnal leaves of yellow, green, red. Wild horses roaming around. (Seriously this is true - it's magnificent). It's cool and still. I'm alone, happy, walking along a path covered in fallen leaves, and everything is quiet expect my footfall and a few small birds tweeting- when all of a sudden some guy is standing next to me in the forest wearing a dentist's white smock sticking a needle in my neck.
"The F$%k are you doing in my creative visualization?!"
"Sorry, swallow if you need to now then hold.... maybe try wiggling your feet?"
Cognitive therapy can be best summed up thus: "Every day in every way, my psychologist is getting richer and richer." We are not in control of our emotions- nor can we ever be. It is normal to be terrified of a needle in the neck.
I tried to distract myself the night before by going to see "Star Trek" and thisw as working until the 'comic' scene where the young Kirk is running around the Enterprise with angioedema of his hands whilst Bones chases after him with a syringe, repeatedly (you guessed it) plunging it into his neck. Why in movies do people always shoot drugs into the jugular vein? Quick movie review: it's like watching the Star Trek version of the British "7UP" TV series: Show me the young, impetuous Kirk at 21 and i'll show you the fat bloated bizarre face-lifted Kirk at 68. Of course no matter how shit it was going to be, i was going anyway.