Dem bones, dem bones gonna walk around - Susan Morrison

Scanning for bone density

Being a battle-hardened scan veteran, I was mildly miffed not to be shot full of gunk that would make bits of me glow. Sadly, it's never the bits I can see.

I’ve been known to plunge hospital loos into darkness to see if I glowed in the dark. I didn't. Neither did my pee. Disappointing.

Yes, I did manage to pee in the dark. Smart phone, baby. Clench it between your teeth. It's a trick I learned in the midnight bogs of festival campsite, only on that occasion I think I also accidentally took a quick snap of my bits and may have sent it to someone.

The bone scan is far more straightforward, aside from one minor glitch. Had I filled in the questionnaire?

I didn't get a questionnaire, I said, feeling slightly left out. Ah, no problem, they said, here’s one. Fill it out now. Next to the lady filling out hers.

That felt better. Clearly she didn’t get one either. Nor, for that matter did the two dear ladies behind me. Something tells me the questionnaires aren’t getting through.

It was all about diet. I’d missed one question out, so the nice scan technician asked me ‘how much milk do you take in coffee?’

None, I barked. Hate milk. Can’t stand cows. Don’t trust them. She said ‘okay’ in that slightly too emphatic manner professionals use to calm down people shouting about chemtrails and lizard people. I think she may have made a note.

Naturally, she asked me to ‘pop’ up onto the scan table. NHS staff love the word ‘pop’, even when it is quite obvious that ‘scramble’ and ‘hoik’ would be more accurate.

It’s a quick painless x-ray and then ‘pop’ back down, and off you go.

If you're a mad old duck like me, and you get a letter to scan your bones, do pop along. Just don't reveal your true feelings about cows.