You lose your mind, very quickly you turn into a shell, controlled by remote from your centre of gravity by a little shrimpy thing that doesn't like what you used to like and has no interest in the things you used to care about. The battle begins.
Your self gets unruly, parts start doing things and making shapes you were never used to, it says "you must have cycled 10 hours today", though you haven't seen a bike in weeks, or says "it's nearly midnight, time for bed" - even though it's only a quarter past eight.
You look forward to being kicked from the inside, it becomes a routine entertainment. You're relieved, as it means they're still there, still busy being.
In the big scan, you hold your breath while the nice girl in uniform runs her supermarket scanner over you, delving through the depths of your depths, and goes through the checklist, "yes there's a heart, good, 4 chambers, ok here's the right kidney..." too long a silence "...and here's the left". You leave it shaken, not having thought of all the things that could go wrong.
Most of all, you look forward to reaching the end of your belly button, you wonder if you should get a tattoo at the bottom of it to prove you were there at least once...