Today is definitely not one Léon will note down in his diary amongst his top ten fun days. It started at 9-30am when I had to apply anaesthetic cream to the backs of both his hands and the inside of both his elbows and cover the cream with clingfilm stuff. He was heart broken - every time he looked at his little hands he burst into big sobs and eventually ended up pulling one of the patches off. At that point we decided a long-sleeved jumper was probably the only way to keep the cream on long enough to anaesthetise his little veins. 90 minutes later it was off to the hospital where they injected him with radioactive liquid and told us as he screamed the place down that it was probably best we tried to hug the wee man as little as possible for the next 24 hours till the Chernobyl effect wore off, wee man... Finally we'd to go back around 1pm when they strapped him into this dreadful machine using a foam and vecro strait jacket and took 2 photos each taking 15 minutes to expose. The first was worst as that was of the kidneys from above so Pudge was sandwiched in and panicking and screaming - enough to make any mother just want to punch the doctor and rescue her wee man, and for the other they rotated the camera to beneath him - slightly less scary but he was already so freaked out, there was no calming him. Of course 2 minutes after he was freed from his vecro prison, he was back to his calm, happy self - though he fell asleep, utterly emotionally exhausted, as the car left the hospital carpark.
I now have to wait 3 to 4 weeks for them to no doubt tell me what I have always expected and that is that the mystery virus from last October did not damage his kidneys - fingers crossed anyway.