Oh yea. I remember this. Sitting around for an hour and a half sipping on a fairly sweet concoction that has been slipped into my 1 quart Poland Spring water bottle.  They’ve changed the time from 1 hour drinking to 1- 1/2 hours because it gives the contrast more time and this apparently makes better images. I’m all for that. Fortunately I remembered my computer and could really use the chill out time after a busy several days. I’m particularly chilly of late, and the warm blankie is a nice touch.  Too bad I had to leave the cluster of katz at home.
The familiarity of this experience has an eery feel to me. I have not thought about the stuff one thinks about when sitting waiting for a scan or a test, for a long time. My response when someone has recently asked how I feel about getting this particular scan has been something like “One foot in front of the other.” I don’t know what to think? I’m not much for making up terrible scenarios to worry about, so I guess it is what it is.
I’ve found out that 4 of the women-in-the-know who have been my guides are all on a similar scan schedule. It seems to be sort of like the way women get on the same menstrual cycles if they spend enough time together. I don’t know why it felt intriguing to me when I found out so-and-so just went for her screen last week. Perhaps it’s because I’m no longer a Rookie. Perhaps I’m getting in stride with others who have been on this trail. It is interesting to me to hear experienced women talk about the vulnerability during the time of follow up scans. I just talked with P whose GYN found “something” after like 10 years in remission. Mammogram didn’t show anything. It was small, but with her history there is no playing around. She immediately went to her cancer treaters and it was put on the “keep an eye on this” list. No alarms, but caution. She said “I was so surprised how quickly I had myself dead when the GYN told me she felt something that I hadn’t felt.”
My IV was put in my arm and not my port because they are not sure if mine is a ‘super port’. When the dye goes in during the CT scan it has more pressure than a usual infusion or port flush. SO they want to be cautious and not chance it with my port. If I were to give advice to someone who gets a port it would be to be sure to get information about exactly what port is being used. Keep the information close and be sure your treaters have it in the record. It has been an issue from time to time with me.
Oh yea, the familiar feeling of being cold on the inside from this quick intake of a quart of cold liquid. Oh yea. 5 minutes to go.  When you go into the CT scan, you get injected with a dye. Oh yea, that warm “flush” as they call it. Basically my respose to the dye injection is a really weird warmth on the back of my tongue, and a convincing sensation that I’ve just lost all bladder control. I’m happy to say that I exited the CT room with my dignity in tact. I remember the first CT scan back in August of 2009, I was told that I’d think I peed myself…still true.
It all went well. I went on with my day and attended a great high spirited soccer game under the lights. It was a beautiful starry starry night. There were friends around me. My head wasn’t cold. I had energy. It’s great to be back.
The follow up appointment is Thursday. I have a workshop immediately after in a city an hour away, so I won’t be blogging until that evening. I will keep you posted.