Prior to surgery, you get the blood tests, the chest xrays, the CT scans, and I think I got a MRI because the CT wasn’t clear enough for Dr. Shores to clear a path to the cancer. I’m not used to all of this stuff.
The young lady who took my blood sat across from me, chatting to her associate in the next booth over. She finally said to me, whenever you’re ready. I said to myself that I was ready a long time ago. She then asked, What arm?. I then realized that I had to pull up my shirt sleeve to draw blood. Duh. Okay, so I’m lame.
The CT is a flat narrow table at which one end is a huge doughnut through which the table navigates. The MRI is more of a tube but there may be an open MRI available, as well. I’ll cover the PET scan later. It’s very expensive and no, don’t bring your PET dog Ruffy. The imaging is a series of slices, a slideshow of your insides, if you will. The hot spots or cancer appear in white.
The technicians constantly talk at you. You are always aware of what’s cookin. Hopefully, none of your body parts. They needle feed you some stuff that makes you feel wet, like you wet yourself. Yeah. It’s that warm feeling running down your leg. Well, you didn’t. So don’t get all soggy about it.
The tube may be scarey if you freak on closeness. Personally, I think it is a cool experience. The MRI bangs different tones. I mean bangs! However, today, they pad your ears so well that it is hardly noticeable. This voice comes from above too. It instructs you to stop breathing, we’re doing the lower neck, or we’re almost finished.
Okay. You can start breathing again.
You also have to go through the pre-surgery. They look through your file, ask you questions, then give you a bottle of hospital soap with the instructions to bathe yourself with this stuff from the neck to the toes the morning of surgery.
January 2007 – See Me. Feel Me. Touch Me.
Prior to surgery, you get the blood tests, the chest xrays, the CT scans, and I think I got a MRI because the CT wasn’t clear enough for Dr. Shores to clear a path to the cancer. I’m not used to all of this stuff.
The young lady who took my blood sat across from me, chatting to her associate in the next booth over. She finally said to me, . I said to myself that I was ready a long time ago. She then asked, . I then realized that I had to pull up my shirt sleeve to draw blood. Duh. Okay, so I’m lame.
The CT is a flat narrow table at which one end is a huge doughnut through which the table navigates. The MRI is more of a tube but there may be an open MRI available, as well. I’ll cover the PET scan later. It’s very expensive and no, don’t bring your PET dog Ruffy. The imaging is a series of slices, a slideshow of your insides, if you will. The or cancer appear in white.
The technicians constantly talk at you. You are always aware of what’s cookin. Hopefully, none of your body parts. They needle feed you some stuff that makes you feel wet, like you wet yourself. Yeah. It’s that warm feeling running down your leg. Well, you didn’t. So don’t get all soggy about it.
The tube may be scarey if you freak on closeness. Personally, I think it is a cool experience. The MRI bangs different tones. I mean bangs! However, today, they pad your ears so well that it is hardly noticeable. This voice comes from above too. It instructs you to stop breathing, we’re doing the lower neck, or we’re almost finished.
Okay. You can start breathing again.
You also have to go through the pre-surgery. They look through your file, ask you questions, then give you a bottle of hospital soap with the instructions to bathe yourself with this stuff from the neck to the toes the morning of surgery.