Can’t think of anything I hate more…
with the possible exception of waiting for scan results.
But I can’t complain too much about the PET I got this morning, given that I have to basically throw a tantrum every time in order to get approved for one. It’s just that I have a little extra anxiety about getting the scan at this particular facility, because of what happened the first time I went there.
Everything seemed normal at the start, bit of a drive to the big, fancy, brand-new building (oh really, Group “We Can’t Afford to Pay for Your Scan” Health?), bit of a wait in the waiting room, but no real problems. Then the man came out to take me in for my appointment. We walked down a long hallway, through a door, down another long hallway, through another door, down another hallway, into an elevator, down several floors…ok, so the scanning room is really in the bowels of this place (haha..."bowels", see what I did there?), but that’s pretty normal for radiology stuff, right? Then he escorts me out one last door, and into…the parking lot. And in front of us is what appears to be a taco truck.
1st thought: Oooh, I can get a taco before I go! Awesome!
Then I notice the taco truck doesn’t have any windows.
2nd thought: Oh no! This guy is actually a serial killer who abducts unsuspecting cancer patients and dismembers them in his little silver trailer of horror…after giving them an unnecessary scan. A killer who likes to add insult to injury! (It is possible that I had been sitting at home watching way too many horror movies at this point in my life).
Guy notices the look on my face, says, so they didn’t explain to you that we have a subcontractor who comes once a week with a trailer to do the scans?
Well, it’s good to know that I won’t end up stuffed in the trunk of a car in the Group Health parking garage.
But I’m sorry I won’t be getting a taco.
Think I'm blathering here...sorry. The scanxiety always gets the better of me. Hugs~AA
**Just got an email from my doc...NED! This makes 14 months of no cancer. I think it's finally time to get my port out. Can always get it put back in if needed. In October of 2011, I was in the hospital for palliative surgery for my metastatic cancer and things were looking very sucky...now I'm here. Definitely walking wounded, but alive. Gotta keep up the hope.