All I seem to have lately is dog pictures.  I need to shake myself.  Tommy, at the top, is my dog.  Freddie, at the bottom, is my neighbour's mother's puppy.  She's on holiday, three weeks now, and Freddie is staying next door.  I collect him in the morning and take him back at night as I'm at home all day and he can spend the day with Tom.    Tommy always gets up high and Freddie has started to copy him but some heights are beyond him.  

Today, I went for an MRI ... With contrast.  That means you're injected with some agent to highlight all kinds of stuff going on.  I've been living in fear of the needle, I've got a phobia after being strapped down and held by nurses as a child ... when they tried to inject me with dye.   

However, I found some diazepam that I was prescribed last year to enable me to have a blood test (which never happened).  I took one yesterday evening and started to feel fine for the first time in almost two weeks, not different just the heavy heavy anxiety lifted.   I didn't feel it was enough to get me through taking a needle but for the first time I actually felt, well, like me.  

We headed to the hospital, I took a tablet and steeled myself.  This is something that MUST happen.   Guess what, it did.  The nurse helped me, held my hand and covered my eyes.  The scan was easy easy, I skipped out, I was so happy.   Ridiculous, I know.  

We went shopping in the afternoon.  We need a bed in the spare bedroom and I need to remove lots of stuff.  I bagged up lots of things for charity.   From now on, however the dice rolls, I'm only wearing the good stuff.