Sunday, July 30, 2023

Pet Scan

 7/29/23 - Pet Scan


As a foreword, I had a shoulder x-ray because of pain and that x-ray incidentally showed a nodule on my lung. Then, my rheumatologist ordered a CT scan which showed a clearer picture of the nodule indicating further investigation with a pet scan. With time on my hands, I wrote the following as I was waiting for the pet scan tracer material to go through my body.


Got to Invision at 1:30 - checked in by 1:47 and paid my $403 copay. In the Pet Scan Mobile unit (just like the BloodMobile) I had radioactive material inserted by 2 P.M. Time to wait is one hour.


I am to be a “couch potato”, no phone use allowed, but I continue to write all this down. The technician tested my blood sugar, 107. The weather was nice when I came in. Hot. In the office there was one lady ahead of me to get checked in for some other test and then two more families came in and were told to sit and wait.


And as I was waiting an hour for the “hot stuff” to run through my body, another lady came into the mobile unit with the tech for another scan of some kind…she had no tracer, apparently. Her hair was gray/white and in a sort of ponytail, looking about my age. He told her twenty minutes for her scan. They went left whereas I had come right.


The tech is all business, no joking except when I said I was stressed out a little and tended to overthink everything, he agreed and said he did the very same thing and wondered how to stop doing that. I told him I was doing Zentangles but he had no reply to that. He seemed in a big hurry.


There was a funny lift to get into the mobile unit, like an open-air elevator but bumpy. He did joke about that, and I said I did not expect to be going on a carnival ride today.




I am sitting in a recliner, legs up with a blanket over me and a pillow across my lap to rest my arms. My wrist aches a little (from this intense writing I think) and my tummy is growling…two boiled eggs and black coffee just before 8 A.M. There is a funny smell in here. Yesterday, I ate a high protein/low carb diet, and this morning I weighed 109.8, down from 110.4 pounds yesterday.


2:20 P.M. - In front of me there are many signs on the cabinets and a metal box-type thing. All the signs say, caution - radioactive materials, except for one that says disposal of hot waste only. Whoa!





2:26 P.M. - Written on a sink cabinet to my left in cursive with quotes is “Ozark River”. I got the IV in my right arm, inside crook of my elbow, the same place I always get blood work. Two umbrellas are laying on top of the sink cabinet…big ones. A white board sign to the right says Today’s team and May 1th and that’s all, nothing else written on it. Nice and cool in here.


2:32 P.M. - The door to this little “room” I am in  says it should remain closed during all procedures. It’s open. There are radiation symbols everywhere.


2:35 P.M. - The other lady just got finished. The tech asked her, “Do you feel lightheaded?” and then she and he went out the sliding metal door to the “elevator”. Now he is back and left the door open…..


Could not write anymore as things were happening so this is from memory….


The tech insisted I go back into the main office and use the bathroom before the scan. Down the elevator and in a few minutes back up the elevator and into the mobile unit, turning left this time instead of right.


I was taken to the next area and instructed to lie, centered, on the narrow table-type bed under the scanner. Had to remove my glasses and place my purse on a small table at the end. He covered me with a blanket, placed a wedge under my knees and put a pillow above my head on which I was told to place my arms. Lie still…around 20 minutes…started scan. Then, he stopped the scan and said we needed to wait a few more minutes because the turkey was not ready…what? It was 2:49 P.M.


After 5 or so more minutes he restarted the scanner and all went smoothly, finished in what seemed shorter than 20 minutes but he assured me it had been 20 minutes. No problems and we both were soon out the sliding door and on the lift back to civilization.


During the 20 minutes of the scan, it had poured rain and he walked me through the puddles to my truck, not leaving me until I was safely inside. I felt fine, no different than when I arrived. We wished each other a good day, said I could go and eat now and bade me take care. It was 3:27 P.M. Drove home in a misty rain through not-so-bad traffic.