My Innards Are Glowing

Well let's find out once and for all if you really do have a hernia Lynn! So I can stop talking, thinking and WRITING about it! I Just got back from my CT Scan. And no one told me about the fun needle in the arm, shoot glowing radioactive dye through your body part. They just ordered the test and said drink 2 quarts of water before showing up. Now, I was pretty dang proud that for once-- I didn't Google it! So I just went in blind thinking--super-powerful xray right? Wrong.

Let's just get this out of the way first. I hate that I have no man in my life at 48 to drive me to shit like this. I hate that I have to go it alone. Yes, I know you're saying--leave it to her to find a way to connect radiation with relationships--but seriously. I get too worked up over this crap. Having someone sit next to me in the waiting room as I read the paper about all the side effects to this dye--would have been nice. I mean even the woman across the room had her little three year old boy with a mohawk who was giving her the finger--AND a significant--something, sitting next to her!?

You have to check off all these boxes--to help them determine if you're allergic to this stuff. Do you have heart disease?  Kidney problems? Something I can't pronounce like Phoetnoneticsenia? I DON'T KNOW THAT'S WHY I'M HAVING A TEST!! I hope not! I hope just a little, baby hernia! Can that make you allergic?

I called my mom. Even though the sign said "Please don't use your cell phone." I needed her reassurance. Yes, at 48. But I'm not sure that was the right thing to do as she told me my father had a horrible reaction to that dye when he had a CT Scan years ago. Huh? What if dye-allergy is genetic? I do have his eyes!? I started to panic a little and hate Mr. PP even more for making me sit there alone listening to how they had to stop the test on my father because he started itching. Maybe I should just go home and go back to ignoring the pain above my belly button. For eight months I convinced myself I over-twisted in Yoga. Can't I just keep saying that?

Too late. They called my name. The adorable technician spoke to me in the hallway. Running down the list of 'here's what's going to happen.' Don't they even take you in a little room? Granted it was the lobby off the lobby--but still, as she told me about the IV suddenly making you feel as though you're peeing your pants, some dude half dressed in an open hospital gown walked by, right as I asked "do you really pee your pants?" I think his open gown opened up a little more, if you get my drift. (I sure caught his.)

So okay--peeing feeling, got it. Warm sensation as the dye goes in. Okay. Metallic taste in your mouth. What? I had to say--"but  my friends are taking me to a nice birthday dinner tonight at the Waterboy!?" She didn't seem to care. Metallic mouth. Check. Next thing I know we're walking into a room that looked very much like a space ship with a bad fake window looking out on trees lit up on the wall. Why do they do that? Another on the ceiling. Do they really think that's going to make you relax and feel like you're in nature?  There are 3 men sitting behind a glass window watching a screen of your organs light up? Soothing trees?

Now, I've been fortunate--I've hit 48 without many medical problems in my life. Even as a child--no broken bones and I didn't get my period till I was a sophomore in high school. Bonus. I've had one little surgery as an out patient. About ten years ago I went on vacation alone for a few days to Tahoe. I had been working pretty hard at TiVo and decided to get away. First thing I did was go get a massage! Only to hear the massage therapist flip me over and say "do you know you have a large lump on your back? I've seen one like this before on another client and it turned out to be cancer." WTF? I'm on vacation, alone, and suddenly I am convinced I was dying. Which is why I left the spa and immediately went and gambled my life away in the casino. Long side-story-short...I had a lipoma -- benign fatty tumor dogs and horses get. They removed it from my shoulder a month later. (and yes I connected tumor to my sad single life too--I told the doctor I couldn't see the large egg-sized lump on my back, because I don't have someone who sees me get out of the shower naked, at the moment.)

Back to CT scan central. I was trying to do my pranayama breathing--all these years of yoga has taught me--to relax and sail through it. Until they stuck the darn needle in my arm--and we're back! F the trees and the breathing. They were really nice and talked me through the entire thing. "And now we're going to inject the dye, you let us know how you're feeling." I'm feeling like I want my mommy and I want to rip this needle out and get the F out of here! "I'm fine."

I felt the weird warmness from the top of my head flow down through my stomach and then--yes--wait for it--the oops I think I just peed my pants sensation. Fantastic. I could feel my anxiety level rise almost as high as those fake trees on the ceiling. Breathe. Breathe. Wait what? Some dude says "hold your breath!" Uh--I feel like I'm going to pass out from anxiety and you're now telling me to hold my breath as I'm moved through a nuclear donut hole? Three times?!!

And we're done. But I couldn't stop shaking. Was it the dye? Are my innards exploding? Am I just having a massive freak out because I had to wait in the waiting room alone surrounded by women wearing scarves on their heads to cover the hair loss? She gave me a granola bar and said to sit and eat something. She told me if it's nothing too serious--I'd get the results next week. If they see "something" they'll call your doctor tomorrow.

The only thing I could get out, between my teeth chattering was "Cannn--I-I-I ha-have a cocktail at my birthday dinner tonight?" Thankfully, she said yes. I don't want to think about it. I just want to go out and continue celebrating with good friends. 48 years of good health. And god willing, I'm gonna take another 48 thank you. As I left, I tried to read the faces of the three guys sitting behind the glass wall. One of them said, "you take good care of yourself okay?" Why? Did he see something more than a hernia?

Maybe it just was the yoga twisting. I just hope it's not really my gut. I've been relying on it pretty heavily lately. I need it one piece.
(and now I have to run, because all the water I drank may cause more than just the "sensation" of peeing your pants)