My first event today landed me a silver metal. Actually a lot of metal.
I had a CAT scan this morning. I had to chug-a-lug two big bottles of " raspberry smoothie" aka Barium with nasty berry flavor that induced some first class gag reflexes. The only thing that one should chug-a-lug in quantity is a iced cold beer on a hot summer day - especially after 6 hours of wonderful gardening, or... in college... in a glass with a quarter at the bottom. Because I wasn't metalic enough, I got an IV of Iodine. (Today I learned that Iodine is also a metal. I guess I missed that one in high school chemistry.) I had so much metal in me that I couldn't make it through airport security. Iodine being shot into your veins through an IV was a very odd sensation...first you taste metal, then your neck warms up, and then you can feel it move through your torso and then into your pelvis. Then, the nicest feeling of all, you feel like you wet your pants! No kidding, it really felt like I did, but I didn't - I know it would be a better story if I actually did. Thankfully the tech warned me of this feeling. So after two hours of putting metalic stuff into my system, a gigantic metal donut scanned my body, and it only took 20 seconds.
The scan showed that no cancer has spread to any organs! (and as my dad said, "not to any pianos either." )
The second event didn't even get me on the podium. It was a meeting with the oncologist.
I just didn't quite hit it off with her. She was pretty dry, and ....searching for a word...um...plain, kind of like vanilla ice milk. Does anyone remember ice milk? It was the cheap version of ice cream, and really didn't taste like much. Dr. Ice Milk is the person that told me my organs are clear, but only after I pulled it out of her. The bone scan looked okay, but they found an ovarian cyst. One more thing to deal with - but fairly minor. There was also something showing up on my second rib from the top, but it is inconculsive. (I learned that the ribs go all the way up to your collar bone, so this rib is way up high on my chest. Never took anatomy.) Anyway, it can be an old scar from some accident, coughing fit, etc. So...now I get another scan - the PET scan. No, my cats are not involved. The PET scan will give a clear picture about the rib bone. Not too concerned....took some nasty falls skiing in the early, reckless abandon years, plus with these asthma plagued lungs, I had countless coughing spells, lasting weeks, that would make a crusty old chain smoker jealous. Just before I left the closet sized examining room, she gave me a pamphlet on breast cancer that she said is about 5 years old. She said that some of the information is outdated. Hello......how am I supposed to read this and know what is current and what is outdated? So, her handing me something that belongs in the recycle bin solidified that I will not be going back to Dr. Ice Milk.
Tonight, a surgical nurse friend gave me the name of a another oncologist, someone more like Mississippi Mud or Mocha Almond Fudge.
Tomorrow is MRI. I also have an ultrasound for the ovarian cyst. It seems like every test leads to more tests.
Whacky thought of the day...
Why are the hospital garments we wear for x-rays and other hospital situations called "gowns?" The definition of gown is what Audrey Hepburn wore to the Embassy Ball in "My Fair Lady! " Now, that was a gown! Cinderella looked pretty good in her gown too. After all, she landed a prince. Someone should come up with a better name like robes or shifts. In Hawaii do they call them "hospital muumuus?"