No news is good news?

Two extremely long-feeling and packed-full waiting hours: where did Wolfgang appear from, like a vision, all gentlemanly 6' 4" and expensive spectacle frames, and that glorious accent; haven't seen him for 4? 5? years, and suddenly he's right in front of me & we're exchanging all manner of news; both, I suspect, as grateful as each other for a distraction from the inevitable, "yes, but why are you in the basement waiting for the creepy scans queue??" question.

Done this too many times; came well prepared with a) sympathetic, rational, articulate J; b) camera full of holiday pic's to share with same; c) i-pod (which I still can't really work, I'm not quite as techno-friendly as I'd hoped), and finally; d) incredibly cheesy dish the dirt on the royals autobiog by some former KP staff member, who swears in the introduction that she never slept with Charlie boy, and I dare say you didn't dear, because we'd all know about it by now if you had.

Moved by kindly staff from one floor, to another, to a third, as the machinery kept breaking down. Possibility of not being seen after all, unless I was an urgent case [guess what, I was] until finally, I was lying on my back having a needle of dye injected so that a computer with Stephen Hawking's electro-voice could say 'Breathe ... In' and would then wait all eternity until 'Breathe ..... Out'. The strangest of pranayama I've yet to encounter; all the while with my eyes tight shut so as not to see any of the equipment, especially needles, never have liked needles. No results, none at all, not today.

Dear our J, waltzed me down the Tottenham Court Road in search of food; Carpenters Arms did me fine, and their menus laminated with the raciest lines from Mills & Boon Silhouette novellas definitely offset the microwaved sausage and mash. Failed to make the opening bars of Mama Mia at the Odeon - the chap at the till very honestly saying 'you need to see the beginning, you'll really regret not seeing the beginning'; so it's been left for another day.

Home; slept; cat squeezed into the couple of vacant inches of sofa. Not sure whether it's night or day; relief of one more stage over. Kindly cousin A phoning to say they'll drive me to Saturday's wedding - what a star. No pain at all today, I explained, just feel like some hopeless neurotic, and maybe that's what I'll be proven to be. Rather glad I won't have any results before the wedding; don't want to be the spectre at the feast.