Yesterday I drove to the VA in San Francisco for a PET
scan. I got there about 9AM and had an
IV installed in Radiology. I then signed
in at Nuclear Medicine and sat down. It
was a busy day and a lot of people seemed confused and disorganized. I wasn’t called until 11:00 and the tech said
that should never have happened. If I
was there at 9:30, I should have been seen by 10. When I got juiced up I waited for about 45
minutes [it’s usually an hour] for the juice to spread. I was escorted to the machine and got
comfy. About 20 minutes into the scan
the machine stopped; it usually only takes 25 minutes. I was still inside the “tunnel” so I figured
something was up. 20 minutes later the
tech emerges from the control center to tell me we have a technical problem but
it should be fixed in minutes. A half
hour later she manually slides the table out of the tunnel and tells me to
bring my arms down “for a bit.” I can’t
feel my arms. I am told to stay put as
it will all be up in a moment. There is
another tech in the control booth. After
about 30 minutes I moan to anyone who may be listening, “can I stop this now?” The tech says I can get
up but can’t let me go because I am the property of the other tech. The machine is rebooting. The other tech arrives and I ask if I can
leave. She tells me to wait as we should
be ready shortly and she’s doesn’t like injecting radio-active material into a
patient and not having pictures to show for it.
At 3 o’clock she puts me back in the machine and I emerge fully scanned
a half hour later. I haven’t eaten in
24 hours; I can’t feel my arms: I have left Tasha waiting patiently for my return. I decided to not stop for a burger at Mike’s
and drove straight home. The traffic was
so-so. Got home, fed Tasha and ate
everything I could find. Hen I went to
bed. It’s 4 in the morning now. I’ve recovered.
