Through A Scanner Darkly

Once the biopsy confirmed the you-know-what, more tests were ordered. The first one was a bone scan. God - just the name gives me the willies. Apparently, if the prostate cancer is gonna spread, it will more than likely go to the bones or the lymph nodes. The thought of cancer being in one's bones is just down-right upsetting to me. Bones! I had a workmate die of prostate cancer cause it got into his...bones. Don't wanna go there at all. Please, Lord - don't let it be in my bones.

It was a 2 step procedure, and fortunately my workplace is just a 15 minute drive to the hospital. That's positive, right? (I keep hearing that keeping a positive attitude with health problems is a good thing - it is required!)

I went to the hospital for step # 1, in which I get an injection of some sort of radioactive whatever in my arm. I don't know if it really is radioactive, but I'm sure this is stuff you don't want to leave under the sink with an easy-open lid on if you got kids or pets. I was extra lucky because an intern was going to be the one administering the poison into my veins!

He was nervous, so I felt the need to help make this guy relax so I went into my washed-up-entertainer-from-the-Catskills mode. The jokes were on, and so was I!

I could hear him and his mentor doctor rummaging around in another room for the correct toxic juice and needles to slam into me. The doctor corrected him verbally a couple of times, so as I was waiting and hearing all of this shit I started entertaining whoever was in the room with me. Before long I actually had a small audience and the jokes were going over well!

The intern came in with the syringe and started to prep my arm for the injection. A couple of false starts - fine - we all gotta start somewhere. I kept running my mouth and at one point I asked the intern if he was OK with me doing my bit. He liked it. Then I thought I'd better ask his doctor-mentor if I should shut-up, and he was fine with the show, so I continued.

But then I felt cold liquid splash onto my arm before the needle went in. At that point I looked and noticed that the poor intern had all sorts of...stains on his lab coat. I settled down, so did he, and the magic medicine entered my vein.

I left and went back to work. In 3 hours I was to come back for the scan. No problem.

The intern was still there, so he had me go to the restroom and make sure my bladder was empty. Fine. He then had me lay down on a table and he and another tech started to set all of the computers, scanners, and whatever. Unfortunately the intern couldn't quite get the table working right. It was supposed to slowly move through the..circular thing as it scanned my bones.

Finally the intern fixed it, and off to scanning I went. It took about 20 minutes for my whole body to go through. Knowing the importance of positive thinking
I imagined a beautiful picture of my fresh and clean and wonderful skeletal system from head to toe. I relaxed my breathing and felt very new-age and beautiful. Not a hot-spot to be found in these bones!

When the scan was done, I stayed on the table as they had a doctor go over the images. Against my better judgement, I looked over at a computer monitor and there it was: My Skeleton! Holy shit! Looks just like a skeleton! Not wanting to look too closely, I turned my head back and waited.

The intern and tech came back in and said "The Doctor would like a couple of different angles of your head and neck."

Ok...no need to panic. Stay calm. Shit.

This time, the scan was just a couple of minutes long. I tried my best to not imagine those dreaded hot spots in my bones, but I don't think I was too successful. All bets are off at this point. Breathe, Gil, breathe.

They then disappeared for another 5 minutes. That's a long 5 minutes if you ask me.

"Mr. Ray - The doctor would like for you to go to X-Ray for a couple of pictures of your head and neck area."

OK. I'm done. It's in my head and neck area. No positive thoughts were within 20 miles from me. Don Rickles has left the building. I was an old, brittle, beaten cancer patient. How do I get the hell out of here?

Somehow I was able to stand still as the 20 year old tech X-Rayed me. I had nothing to say. I left the building and walked to my car. I'm fucked.

Remember the waiting game that doctors put patients through? Well, 4 days later I finally get an e-mail from my doctor: "Your bone scan is fine Mr. Ray. You just have some degenerative arthritis in your neck."

That night I raised a glass (or 4) to arthritis. Probably the only person in the world to do that.

Viva Arthritis.

I think my stress level probably compressed my poor little cancer ridden prostate into a diamond that week. I'm going to be rich!