Hold your breath.

NB - I wrote this in the hospital waiting room last month, but the internet signal was non-existant. The scan results were good and showed a reduction in lymph node size.
Hold your breath. That's my tip if you have to drink a litre of contrast juice before you have a CT scan. It tastes pretty horrible. I have to drink it over an hour and a half so I can't even just neck it. Apparently it will give me diarrhoea too, although I've not been allowed to eat today anyway.
Everyone in the waiting room has brought someone with them except for me. I've never understood this. I undertsand moral support but I am more a fan of standing on my own two feet and not imposing on anyone. I want to be independant, and I don't want to inconvenience Alex by making him stay for two hours in a boring, depressing waiting room.
Plus the woman who just left brought her (presumably) husband with her, and when she came out after her scan, he was positively quizzing her in a really weird intense manner: did you have to hold your breath? Did they inject you? Were they competent? Did you fall out the scanner? He wouldn't let her leave til she'd answered everything. Jesus, you control freak of a man, give it a rest and let her go home!
Also in the waiting room is a blind lady and her guide dog, plus her sighted friend who is training a guide dog puppy. They are cheering everyone up as the golden retriever keeps chewing up whatever he can find - tissue, leaflets, his lead.
Another half an hour of drinking this muck til I can be scanned. I'm bored and hungry.