I EFFING HATE CT SCANS!!!

Okay, this post starts out with a warning.  If you're squeamish and don't like hearing or talking about certain bodily functions, this blog may not be for you.  I'll pause for a minute while those with weak constitutions navigate away from here...., gone?  Good, time to get started.  Yesterday, I had to have my quarterly CT scan.  I suppose a little background is order after that statement.  In 2007, while I was recovering from knee surgery, I began to have a problem, how do I put this delicately..., eliminating waste.  That's a nice way of saying I hadn't taken a dump in several days.  The first couple of days weren't so bad, but that wore off quick.  After seven days without a bowel movement, I went to the Emergency Room.  That's a post all by itself, but the end result was a diagnosis of colon cancer, treated by surgery and two weeks in the hospital.  I followed that up with a 6 month chemotherapy regimen (that was fun).  And now, for the next 5 years starting from September 2007, I get to have a quarterly CT scan to make sure there's not a recurrence.

CT stands for Computed Tomography and what that means in regular folks language is that it's an x-ray that's been enhanced to 3D status by a computer.  I'm sure I left out something, but who cares.  If they're looking at your G.I. tract, like they do with me, you get to drink a lovely concoction of barium sulfate, water, thickeners, declumping agents, etc.  It's a lot better than it used to be, but it's still kinda nasty.  You have to do this 2 hours prior to the scan and you can't eat anything after that.  Then, when you get there, they lay you on a table and start an IV.  This is to administer a dye that will contrast with the barium (yum) in your system and show any problems.  Then, they send you through this big donut (it looks like a donut.  At least, I think it does.  I'm pretty hungry by then) a few times to make sure they've got you positioned properly.  When you're all situated, the tech will come and push the dye in.  In a second or two, you'll feel a flush start down your body, you'll get a metallic taste in your mouth and, all of sudden, you'll swear you just peed on yourself.  I'm not kidding, when the flush reaches your nether regions, it feels just like you peed in your pants.  After that, it's show time.  Stuff inside the donut starts spinning and it sounds like a jet spooling up, then you hear a disembodied voice say "Hold...your breath".  You start to move out of the donut, slowly.  Entirely too slowly, considering you're holding your breath and, oh yeah, the dye makes you feel like you need to pee even though you swear you just wet yourself.  Just when you think "I can't take it, I gotta take a breath!" the Voice says "Breathe".  If you're lucky, that's it.  If you're unlucky, and it didn't go right, you get to do it again.  So much fun you just can't stand it.  And, that's it.  You're done, you can go home. 

Except, you're really not done.  There are a couple of things you still have to do, like get the runs.  That's right, that barium sulfate you drank earlier?  Yeah, that's coming out.  You're not peeing it out either.  It's in your G.I. tract, friend.  It starts slowly, with a rumble or two.  Then, you think "Man, am I gassy".  Don't fall for it, you ain't gassy.  This is when the danger of a shart is most precarious.  Not familiar with the "shart"?  It's portmanteau of the words "sh-t" and "fart" and it means just what you think it does.  We've all experienced the shart, even if we didn't know what to call it.  You're sitting there and you feel what you think is a pretty hefty fart coming on.  You raise up (why?  It'll come out whether you do or not) and it begins to ease out and you realize it's not a fart.  If you're lucky, you catch it before you embarass yourself.  If not, you're changing underwear and possibly throwing the old pair away.  Gotta get rid of the evidence, that way you can deny, deny, deny.   So, yesterday, I'm sitting here at home and I feel it.  Fortunately, I felt the turtlehead start to poke out before it was too late and made a mad dash for the bathroom.  Even so, it wasn't pretty.  That's the other problem with this stage.  It can be messy.  Don't bother cleaning the toilet until tomorrow, though.  It's gonna take you the rest of the day to get through this. 

Don't think that once you make it through the shart zone, you're in the clear, though.  You're not, because, unless you're in the hospital, you have wait for your results.  Sometimes as much as a week.  That's me; my appointment to see the doctor isn't until next week.  Now, you would think they could take the scan, look it over and tell you if there's anything worth worrying about right after they do it.  You'd be wrong, but you could think that.  No, it has to be reviewed by a radiologist who scribbles some notes which are then put into the form of a report by a medical transcriptionist which is sent over to your doctor so he read to you what the radiologist wrote.  Why is it that your doctor, who completed 8 years of school, at least a year of residency and been tested within an inch of their life, can't take the scan, which is much better than a standard x-ray, and tell you if there are anomalies present?  Because then, all the specialists couldn't rape your bank account and live like kings, that's why.   That, and you wouldn't be going crazy waiting. 

The CT scan does suck, but in my case it's less sucky than the alternative.  Which would be the colonoscopy.  If you think the CT was bad, wait till tomorrow when I describe my colonoscopy experience.