They start with my head area. This panel is about 20" x 20". The technician sits behind a glass wall with a remote control. As I sit on my back, the panel is lowered to my head. Lower. And lower. It thankfully stops 1/2 in from the tip of my nose. I wonder, and forgot to ask, if this was an automatic sensor that made it stop, or if it was the technician with a remote. Seriously, with a slip of a button, my nose and head would have been crushed. Not today though.
The technician says "here we go". Nothing happens. No noise. No motion. For 10 minutes it scans my head, neck and upper torso, searching silently for any radioactive iodine. I close my eyes and try to sleep, with no luck. Then, I faintly hear a motor move the panel down toward my waist by 18 inches, overlapping the last scan. That routine continues two more times and then I am done--I thought.
The technician came out. She changed colors. She was white when I met her and now she was black. I guess a change shift while I was there...
She said there were two more 5-minute scans focusing on my neck. Simple.
Done. For real.
About Me
- Steve Schultz
- I found out I had Hurthle Cell cancer on December 20, 2007, on my father's 70th birthday. This cancer can have a mortality rate in the 50-65% rate within 5 years, with a median life expectancy of 38 months. I am in the high risk group, but after almost three years, I am optimistic that I will live a long life.