This one goes to 11
I have to believe that's what the guy in the waiting room here in Radiology was told about his phone, because he's watching a video at such a high volume, we can all hear it - all 50 of us. I'm seriously hoping this is not a home sex tape. I'm about to donate a set of headphones to the cause.
Today's scan is is a PET, which is designed to measure the activity level in cells, as opposed to the size of a tumor. They tell you not to exercise the day before or day of the scan, as the process of muscle recovery apparently looks like cancer on the scan. So, I kinda forgot that part and went to the gym with Adam yesterday. I can just imagine the meeting with Dr. Z on Friday.
"Well, the good news is your lungs are fine. The bad news is you now have raging cancer of the biceps and triceps."
Today's Prep team is lead by Adam, a young guy with a good sense of humor. One example: Adam, who is white, introduced me to another member of the team, a much taller and blacker guy, saying, "this is my twin brother, Eric."
They then proceeded to guess what my glucose level would be. Eric nailed it (93) and I told him he was wasting his talents in medicine. He should be in Vegas, or at least hanging out in some convenience store playing the lottery.
I've just downed another delicious vanilla contrast smoothie, and I have radioactive glucose coarsing through my veins, so it's time to get this party started. I'll post again on Friday once I talk to Dr. Z about the results.
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