A Different Kind of CT Scan

Today I had a CT scan taken of my abdomen to see if any cancer remained after the removal of the cancerous uterus.

It was done at the Hettrick Campus in the Alta Bates Women's Cancer Center over in Berkeley. First I had to find my way to the basement. But then there were two radiology departments, so I had to figure that one out. Then I checked in.

His first question to me was, "What flavor do you want for your Barium Sulfate?" The choices were banana, mocha and berry. I chose berry because I don't like coffee, and I had chosen banana for the colonoscopy liquid, which turned out to be a mistake. As it turned out, I think all answers are wrong. There was a slight hint of berry, but mostly it was fairly-hard-to-swallow gunk. And I had to drink the size of two medium-sized Cokes in half an hour. "Coke," as in what's Linda's favorite drink, was a wrong choice of words.

The Frederick Regional Health System website tells me that, "You may be asked to swallow baking-soda crystals (sometimes called fizzies), which will create gas in your stomach. Then, you will be given 20 ounces of liquid barium, which resembles a light-colored milkshake, to drink. The radiologist will note the passage of barium into your esophagus and stomach on the fluoroscopic monitor. Once the upper gastrointestinal tract is adequately coated with the barium, still radiographs are obtained.The examination is usually completed within 30 minutes."

And then I waited about an hour after chugging the liquid. After shucking my clothes in favor of two gowns, I lay down on the slab which would lead me into the scanner. Then he gave me an injection and warned me about the warmth. What he told me didn't begin to prepare me for what would happen about 15 minutes later.

Then there was the usual out-in-out-in stuff. When it came time to hold my breath, though, I was amused by the green face, amber face, the latter showing a balloon holding its breath. And then a timer telling me how many more seconds before I could breathe. All of those things helped, but it was no struggle this time to hold my breath.

Then he injected me, and I entered the tube again. This time, however, everything started getting really warm, fast. "Everything" included my groin area, which, for some reason, really startled me. Still, it wasn't terribly uncomfortable. But just when I knew we were almost at the end, I started getting nauseous. I felt like I was going to throw up at any moment, but I don't know why. I swallowed and swallowed, and was able to hold down the urge, until, finally, the guy said I was through.

He bandaged up my arm and I walked back to the storage locker to retrieve my clothes. As I pulled them out, I noticed blood amply dripping down my arm. The blood around the vein on my left arm had completely overwhelmed the bandage, so I went, in my two gowns and sock feet, to the reception area, and she told me to go back to the technician who promptly put gloves back on and asked, "Are you a bleeder?"

Well, no, not ordinarily. In fact, never. But he bandaged me up again, this time with one of those stretchy bandages, wound tightly, and problem was solved. However, there was blood all over my pants. We will see if the large spot will come out in the laundry.

It's not a pleasant experience, but at least for right now, it's over. I'll hear about the results in two weeks when I go back to the oncologist, Dr. Stern. I must admit, I am a bit anxious.