Getting a PET scan

With a PET scan, they are able to detect cancer activity nearly anywhere in your body. When I was first diagnosed with lymphoma, that's the first thing they did in order to figure out where all the cancer is in my body. Of course, it saw the big spot in my guts, but it also saw a spot along my esophagus, and another under my collarbone.



I got my second PET scan today, and hope to hear results by Monday.

Know how they do a PET scan? For 48 hours before, they don't want me to do any exercise. The night before, they want me to eat a high-protein, no-carb supper. (Last night I had fried egg and mozarrella cheese, fried salmon, and Brussels sprouts.) This morning, I was at CCI at 7 a.m. with iPod in hand. I hadn't had anything to eat or drink since last night. Turns out, I could drink water, so the nurse gave me a cup of chilled water. Ahh.

By 7:15, I'm back in a very comfortable, powered la-z-boy recliner, and the nurse is starting a line in my arm. She took my weekly blood samples and disappeared. They test your blood to see if you're diabetic, too. Being diabetic can throw off PET scan results.

At 7:30, nurse #2 comes in with a thick (lead-lined?) box holding the syringe of radioactive sugar. She injects that into my line and disappears for about 70 minutes. I was to be as relaxed as possible while the sugar went around looking for cancer cells to stick to. I listened to the entire "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat" album.

The nurse came in, let me take care of necessary business, and escorted me to the PET machine. The PET machine is a vertical donut with a stretcher I lie on to go in and out of the donut hole. After 20 minutes in and out of the machine, I'm done.

I'm at work by 9:15.

The radiologist is in and should read the results today, but I have no promises that Dr. McGee will get the results today, or that he'll get them to me today. Of course, the sooner the better, because if there's more chemo ahead, I'll want to get a port installed.