Scans. 

Again, “please don’t eat or drink for 6 hours before the procedure.” 

“But the test is at 11 sooooo….” 

“You can have two hard boiled eggs at 5am.” 

“Gee. Thanks.”

Something about being told no eating or drinking makes you ten times hungrier and thirstier. Knowing myself and the hungry panick I set my alarm for 5 am and fell asleep with two hard boiled eggs next to my bed. Have you ever tried to eat hard boiled eggs half asleep in the middle of the night? It was hard. And I still woke up later hungry anyway. 

My wonderful faithful Aunty Robin drove to the scan again. I found out once I got there that my insurance had denied the chest CT so st least I didn’t have to drink more banana chalky barium liquid. But if the full body PET scan found any suspicious mets in my lungs there wouldn’t be any clear imaging to look at. Like I said, after the liver the metastasis head to the lungs. But I had peace about it, I was no longer worried about them. 

The radiology tech took me into a room with nuclear hazard sticker on the door and sat me down in a comfy chair and gave me a blanket. He put in the IV and then went to get the radioactive isotopes that would be injected into my blood stream. He returned with a shiny, frosty metal canister with radioactive warning stickers all over it. Suddenly I was in a science fiction movie apparently. He twisted off the lid and I half expected a suction sound and fog to billow out of the top. But there wasn’t. He pulled out a smaller metal cillinder and this contained the isotope. I like how all this metal shielded him from coming in contact with the isotope that was being injected into my bloodstream. Then he closed the door. Apparently I would wait an hour for it to travel everywhere and then they would scan me. “No reading, no phones, no tv.” But he did bring me a glass of ice water. After which, he closed the door and I took a nap. 

I woke up as he opened the door. I was instructed to use the bathroom and then head down the hall to the left. Good thing he gave me that miniature glass of ice water. Still dazed from my nap (I hate naps for this exact reason,) I lumbered down the hall where I found him and he helped me lay on the… mat? bed? plinth? Slightly cushioned table? I don’t know what you call it, the surface that would slide in and out of the scanner intermittently. He then covered me with warm blankets and literally strapped me to bed and instructed me on the importance of not moving. I fell asleep again but woke up every time the bed slid forward or backwards to scan a different part of my body. 

Afterwards I had a little bit of a sleep hangover but was soooo ready to eat. And guess what!? National Taco Day! Because I did the PET scan at The hospital where I work in East LA I only had to chose my favorite out of like 10 choices. Naturally I went with, Guisados, voted LAs best tacos and right down the street! I ordered more than my regular amount of tacos, a pescado, a camarones, a quesadilla, and my personal favorite chuleta. Their masa tortillas never disappoint. Aside from, what I later termed my radioactive hangover, I was in heaven. 

At around 5pm I got a call from my oncologist office. I thought it was to confirm my appointment tomorrow afternoon. Instead, it was to see if I could make a 9 am appointment with the surgeon who would put in my chemo port.”he only sees patients on mondays but has agreed to squeeze you in between surgeries tomorrow. And he will probably want to do the surgery on Friday so you can have it for chemo Monday.” Well ok sure. I’ll just let my boss know that I was only kidding about working Thursday morning before my oncology appointment and on Friday before being off for chemo. The good news is my work is amazing and flexible with me about when I can work. 

I had no idea how tired the San and the radioactive isotope would make me. I felt lethargic and sleepy the rest of the afternoon. I almost didn’t go to Crossfit that night but I knew that I would feel better after I moved. It’s my rule, when I least feel like going to Crossfit is when I need to go in the most. Plus, who knows how I’m going to feel in the next couple weeks after I start chemo? It was a good workout that night, the strength component was a barbell complex,  3 jerks and 1 split jerk. It felt so good! I threw up 135 lbs and tied for top spot on the leaderboard. What radioactive hangover? The metcon was a nasty 21 minute EMOM, the type of EMOM where you’re like ok not bad but then you’re dead.  Minute 1: 35 double unders, minute 2: 10 strict toes to bar, and minute 3: 14 dumbbell step ups and then repeat until you reach 21 minutes. It’s important to know I have roughly 3 most hated movement in Crossfit, double unders, bar muscle ups and most of all toes to bar. Basically what this means for me is it transforms the workout from a physical push to a mental push. And I almost broke mentally, as tired as I was.  But I finished all the reps and then in true form died on the gym floor at the end. 

Live to fight another day.