So I had to have CT scan done today because of all the issues I am having. I went last week and scheduled the appt., they gave me two big (now I use the words big because they seemed huge, so downsizing for arguments sake) bottles of Berrie Smoothie Barium Sulfate to drink. Now I care not how you label it or mask it, this stuff is gross. I am not a sipper so last night before bed I downed the first BIG bottle (450ml) now that is 15.22 ounces, disgusting. Then this morning 2 hours before I had to be there, I drink another BIG bottle of this stuff......okay got it down and head to the hospital.
I check in with radiology and that is when SPC whoever he was comes out with another, I looked at him from my wheelchair, all frail and tired (lol) and said to him "You are kidding right?" nope! SPC whoever he was says, you need to drink atleast half........so I down half of the BIG bottle.......now I'm like ready to gag....he says, "Your awesome", hey he thinks I''m awesome (like I care).........
So here we are, me and my Mother in law waiting. I then looked down the front of my very cute Tommy Hilfiger blouse and I realize the buttons are on the inside of the top, I thought to myself, I don't remember these buttons being inside, HA because they aren't......... I am wearing it inside out.....now you could barely tell because of the way it was made, but once I got up, my hair would not cover the tags, so I go to the ladies room and turn it right, look in the mirror and shake my head at my dumbass self.
So the Emergency room now needs my CT time.....and I sit and wait an hour......but I'm okay with it, because this CAT scan I need must be done, it's important, so I am not upset. Besides with all the junk they have me drinking, this is going to be a big deal, this CAT scan. So finally SPC whoever he was, who is being very nice to me wheels me back....... so now I'm gowned (which it then occurs to me that I could have fixed my top then, but whatever). I get all comfy on the CT bed, (yeah right, all 11 inches of it) SPC whoever he was did manage to find some blankets to cushion it for my back, being I am only a couple months post fusion surgery.......then the DYE guy comes in, not sure if he was a contractor or not, but soldier he wasn't, hair definitely civilian.......so I'm laying there and our fine SPC begins to read over my paperwork. He gets to the part about where I had had this done before and asks what year, I answered 1988 when I was in the Army, he laughs and says wow, I was born in 1988........Okay, this kid, (I no longer see him as a soldier) could be my child, OUCH!
So the DYE guys rags on me a bit because he graduated a year after I did and too is younger then I am, gets around to where he sticks the cath in my arm for the DYE and it begins....THE SCAN....the whole 30 second thing. I was like HUH? What do you mean that's it. You made me drink tons of what I know is toxic crap, then you gave me more, then you light up my blood stream with radioactive DYE and then you do one tiny little 30 second scan.........
They find this all amusing, I on the other hand only find it ironic, considering...... only after I was dressed did it occur to me how young our service members really are and how old I AM!!!!
Amazing......I'm still shaking my head