I've decided that I don't like CT scans because 1.) they need to put in an IV and 2.) they use this contrast that has to be power injected into your veins. Specifically it's the contrast part that I dislike. They put you in this dark room where you're lying a mechanical table with your legs through a stargate (donut like orb) and you have an IV hooked up to this weird contraption displaying two vials: one that is labeled saline and the other that is labeled contrast. Hal, or one of his friends, speaks over the loud speaker, "Breathe in," and the saline vial empties. Hal then says, "Breathe." The machine makes weird noises and then quiets. Again you're asked to breathe, the contrast vial empties, and you're left on the mechanical table feeling like you just wet your pants.
I'm skipping a lot of the details and there were more sounds, ticks, bells and breathing demands but you get the point; no one likes to wet their pants.
After the CT Scan Autumn and I made our way to our Yacht Club. It's really much more of a boat house as I previously explained but it feels so much more Beacon Hill to call it a Yacht Club. I walked in, asked for a boat and started sailing! I still can't take Autumn with me but she had fun sitting on the docks and taking pictures of me hustle less experienced sailors.
I've become desensitized by all these tests, pricks and office visits. Everyone says they get nervous when it's time to check their treatment progress, but I see it more as just another annoying task to do for the evil cancer in my leg. I have visits with my oncologist on Wednesday and Friday so let's keep our fingers crossed.
p.s. I didn't wet my pants on the CT table.