Trapped

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.