Appointment with a Dexa Scan

Not me, but looks comfy, right?

The young girl in uniform called my last name, and I rose from my waiting room chair. As I looked up, another lady was already following her down the hallway. I thought to myself, there must be two Morrisons here today. I stood still and watched as the uniform turned back to listen to something the other Morrison was saying, and then the imposter turned to the right to enter the blood draw area.

The uniform looked back at me, and I asked, “Constance?”

She nodded. “I’m Dallas and I’ll be doing your dexa scan today.”

“I think you’re the tech who did my scan two years ago,” I replied.

“Yes, I’m sure. I’ve been here seven years.”

“You should be an expert by now,” I said. She didn’t laugh. Maybe she smiled. She had her back to me.

I followed her down the hallway and turned left at the end. We entered a tiny room with an exam table centered under the bone scanning machine, a swivel stool at the table’s end, a shelf above it, an apparatus was attached to the wall to measure height, a cumbersome scale next to it, and in the opposite corner a desk and chair for Dallas’ computer. Free space was at a premium.

“Take off your shoes and back up to the wall so I can get your height.” I complied as Dallas cautioned me not to put any weight on the shelf. I had grabbed it as I slipped off my shoes. “Five feet and ¼,” Dallas read off as she asked me to step away.

“Now for your weight.” I stepped up onto the scale and Dallas played with the sliding weights until the bar stabilized. “146,” she said.

“Do you have any metal in anything you’re wearing?”

I responded with a no since I had read the instructions before coming, but Dallas continued with her questions.

“No zipper in your pants? No metal in your bra?”

“No and no.”

“Okay, lie on your back on the table and we’ll get started.” She placed a wedge under my knees, and sat down at her computer. After a moment or two, the scanner slowly moved over me several times, searching out the secrets of my spine. I was comfy, but it didn’t last. Dallas was removing the wedge, and told me to straighten my legs as she sat back down. That strained my back. Soon the scanner was moving again, back and forth over my hips. As it came to a stop, Dallas turned toward me and said, “Now turn your toes inward as though you are pigeon-toed.” I did what I thought was a perfect performance, but soon heard Dallas say, “Can you turn the left foot in more?” That hurt some more, but apparently it was enough as the scanner began to move again, and after a few more ups and downs, we were finished, and Dallas said I could sit up. I felt as though I had been holding my breath for the entire time.

Dallas asked if I was seeing my doctor to discuss the scan, and I said I had an appointment in just a few minutes so she printed out the results and handed them over to take with me. I slipped on my shoes. She opened the door to let me out, said to turn right at the hallway and have a nice day.

I exited the laboratory’s waiting room, turned right again, and walked down another long hallway to my doctor’s office. I was twenty minutes early. I signed in and to my surprise was quickly called to go back to an exam room where the nurse took my blood pressure and told me the doctor would be in soon. He was. I handed him the scan information, and he pulled up my previous scan to compare. My spine numbers were better, but my hip numbers were either the same or slightly worse. He recommended I continue my same medicine for two more years.

Then I told him about my wrist, how it was painful to move certain ways, and how very painful it was to write. I told him I was a writer and also liked to draw and paint, and my wrist was definitely cramping my style. I asked if it could be carpal tunnel syndrome. He immediately tried to bend it downward, and I winced in pain. “No,” he said. “I believe it’s arthritis. But just to be sure, I’m going to send you to get an x-ray,” something my friends in life history agreed would happen.

Well, to make a long story short, I got the x-ray and a few days later got the call from the doctor’s office that, yes, it was arthritis, no broken bones. I was to do what the doctor had said, apply the over-the-counter arthritis cream twice a day and take a 220 mg of Aleve two times a day for more relief from the pain. I was already using the cream but not on a schedule, and sometimes I take Aleve, when I anticipate a busy day. I believe my wrist is positively responding to the scheduled use of both. I’m moving it more without pain, but writing continues to be difficult. I’m thankful my dexa scan numbers improved, and really appreciated the encouragement and advice from my life history group about my wrist problem which was the topic of my last month’s story. Life is so much better with friends whose life history covers just about everything you could ever imagine.