The CAT Scan Episode

The following episode is based on actual events. On the other hand, I may have imagined the whole thing!

Everyone knows cancer treatment is a lengthy process, with much waiting around between doctor appointments and tests. Added to this, there is a certain amount of chaos and confusion between the various departments. Oncology versus Radiation. Radiation versus Dentistry. And all three of them versus health insurance. (But that is another issue!) This anarchy sometimes makes you feel that you are at the mercy of others, totally helpless, creating acute psychological effect.

On one particularly chaotic day, when they scheduled me to be two places at once, I was running late for a CAT scan. So I got off the elevator, found the right department and checked in. They gave me a room number and sent me there.

The CAT scan room was located at the end of a seemingly endless corridor. I thought, "They sure could use one of those rolling sidewalks here, like they have in airports or on the "The Jetsons". Finally I arrived at my destination, almost utterly exhausted.

I entered the room, expecting to see a nurse dressed in white. Instead I saw a young woman wearing a close-fitting, black sweater, black leather pants and high-heels. Her hair was jet-black, natural, not dyed. Her figure was curvaceous, but her manner was as straight as an arrow. She hardly spoke. ("She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work. She may have been Italian, or even a Turk!") She reminded me either of Morticia from the Adams family or a drone from a sci-fi movie. But then she put on a white lab coat and that made me feel a little better, but not much.

Next I had to lie on this slab that slides into the CAT scan machine which looks like a torpedo tube where the patient is the torpedo. (Fire One!) You have to stay still during the process so she strapped down my arms and feet. This, of course, only increased my feelings of helplessness. And still she hardly said a word. Then the phone rang. She answered it:

"CAT scan". (Pause)

"OK, I'll be right there."

She came over and checked if I were securely tied and bound. As she was going out the door I thought I heard her say, "Don't go away!"

At this point I resolved to make the best of it. Now would be a good time for a nap. But then another obstacle blocked my path. My nose began to itch. At first I did not consider this a problem. But then I remembered that my arms were strapped down. How should I handle this dilemma? I could either: (A) Apply the Zen approach and convince myself that my nose did not itch; or (B) Try to turn just enough to rub my nose against the pillow. Neither approach would be necessary, however, as my nose stopped itching as soon as "Ms. Black" returned, clipboard under her arm.

Next, she unexpectedly reached for my belt buckle. Now what is going on? It soon became clear that she intended to remove my belt. "Oh, great!" I thought, "Here I am strapped down, unable to defend myself and she is going to beat me with my own belt."

And then it happened. She tugged my belt so hard and fast that I would have rolled out like a red carpet on a tarmac, were it not for the fact that I was strapped down. I gave her a sharp look. Red laser beams were firing out of my eyes, or so it seemed. She realized her mistake and made a gesture of apology. She jumped back in alarm, raising her hands to her head. The clipboard tucked under her arm, fell to the floor. But it was too late. Mt. Vesuvius was about to erupt.

Five ... Four ... Three ... Two ... One.

And then ...

Nothing happened.

I managed to regain my composure somehow, the lava seeped back down into its crater and the volcano became dormant again.

If I had lost control, it would have been for naught, as the metal in the belt buckle would have thrown off the readings from the machine.

Sorry folks, but that was exciting as it got. Twenty minutes later the scan was done, she untied me and let me go home. Fortunately I was able to get my belt back. Next time I'll be sure to wear sweat pants!

A few weeks later my wife and I were strolling through a shopping mall. As we were passing a department store window, I noticed a female mannequin wearing a black outfit. A few seconds later I suddenly remembered that I needed to schedule a medical appointment.