The volatile March weather had it all - humid days where temperatures soared to 25C, storms with hail and lightning and of course, torrential rains. The onset of warm weather and sunny days convinced mother nature to turn everything green overnight, but the cool evenings abruptly reversed her gains. The weather was interesting but my usual foray into the medical world was fairly uneventful.
This month in addition to the regular routine of B12 shot and Port flush was the CT scan of my liver. I've been feeling more-or-less OK, just not sleeping well (returning to work does have it's drawbacks..) and some unsettled stomach issues, also likely due to that working full-time experience. By now though a CT scan is routine. My new normal is to wait. I wait before the test, I wait during the test, and of course, I wait some more for the results. The last part is the most difficult, because the way our medical system works is that bad news is reported quickly, and good news isn't. They make you wait...
Early morning of March the 20th I arrive at the Hospital's registration desk, where I pick a number, just like at a deli counter. I sit patiently, waiting to be called. Upon being summoned I'm quickly registered, confirming that I have had nothing to eat or drink for at least 3 hours prior to the exam. I'm handed another paper to bring to the Imaging departments registration desk. In the Imaging department I exchange my paper for a pager, similar to the ones you now get while waiting at restaurants. This one will give me the room I'm to go to when called. More waiting. The flow of patients continues and although I have numerous electronic distractions I can't focus. I fidget and I pace. Finally the pager goes off and tells me where to wander to next. I find my room down the hall and am invited to sit, a nurse will now put an IV into my arm for the upcoming CT procedure.
With this CT exam a contrast dye is introduced during the procedure. This necessitates an injection site in my right arm. An IV is carefully inserted and made fast. I am asked to sit in the alcove across from the CT room. I wait some more. I don't know why I'm wound up this morning; I haven't had any coffee, my last 3 CT's were great, I've been back to work for a year. Why am I worrying so? My name is being called, and the friendly technician leads me into the CT exam room. It's low light is soothing in comparison to the harsh industrial lighting of the general Hospital environment.
Lying on my back, arms above my head, a thin hospital sheet covers me from the waist down. Generally I remove all my accessories from my pockets before this process, it's not a requirement, just what I do. I'm asked to undo my belt and lower my pants down "a bit". I smile in the memory of having these CT's wearing little more than the standard hospital gown; my modesty is long gone in this institution.
Waiting during the exam, I'm asked to breathe in, hold, breathe normally. The process repeats a few times. The technician advises she's going to introduce the contrast fluid. During the flush my ears and back of my neck feel warm. Some patients report a feeling like they wet themselves. I can relate. More breathing instructions.
Finally my waiting is over. The exam is complete, my technician gently removes the IV and I'm done. I'm advised to drink lots and lots of water that day, to flush the contrast dye out of my system. My exam probably took no more than 10 minutes, it just seemed like an eternity. I emerge from the hospital into bright sunshine, spring is tantalizingly close. I can't wait for it to arrive.
