A day of testing

I'll be at the nuclear imaging building across Orange Avenue from Florida Hospital Orlando at 11:30 this morning for a PET scan, then a few hours later in the main campus for a CT scan.

This double-whammy dose of radiation hopefully will allow my doctors to complete a diagnosis begun in August and left undetermined until now.

Back then, a PET scan saw something.

What it was couldn't be determined. So they docs scheduled a PET scan.

The PET scan didn't quite notice the small mass in my abdomen that the CT did, but it found something very small in my lungs.

What it was couldn't be determined. So my docs did what all good docs do: They consulted other docs, and still others.

In the end, Dr. Lee Zehngebot, an extraordinary oncologist, consulted with Dr. Philip Styne, an extraordinary gastroenterologist. They both checked in with other internists, gastro docs, radiologists and the like.

The conclusion? Wait three months. As it turns, it's four, but who's counting?

This will give whatever is in me to either change or not change. The docs felt this was safer than "going in" and performing biopsies on the various spots they detected. The initial thingie in my abdomen is likely a cyst. Probably not dangerous, they thought but didn't know. I think it's the thing in my lung that drew the most concern.

So in less than a dozen hours I'll have radioactive glucose injected in me from something that looks as if it came out of a sci-fi movie and then will spend about an hour or two relaxing so my body can absorb said glucose. Then the scanning doohickey will determine which parts of my body, if any, absorb the glucose quicker than expected. If something does, it's possible that is a cancerous area, since cancer cells and very few others absorb glucose rapidly.

After all that's over, I will go across the street and drink an iodine-laced cocktail for the CT scan, which isn't nearly has complex.

By the end of the day, I'll be warned to stay away from pregnant women and small children for a day as a precaution. However, my eyes will be able to light up a dark road and my hands will glow in the dark. As for other exterior organs, well, we'll just have to keep that private.

A few days later, hopefully I'll get the all clear from Dr. Z. I don't want to get news about these tests in two weeks when I see him.