The first time I had a CT scan I didn’t cry in the machine. I worried. I wondered what the technician was thinking (more likely something along the lines of I forgot to put the laundry in the dryer than holy shit, that’s one big messy fucking incurable tumour).
The CT machine speaks, but offers no insight, advice or comfort. Hold your breath. Let out your breath. I couldn’t hear properly when it said Don’t swallow. Luckily I didn’t swallow. I’m learning that, when a scanning machine prefaces anything with Don’t, I Don’t anything.
