The PET Scan

After the visit with Dr. Sondak, I went home to not have lunch before leaving again for the PET scan.  In order to not interfere with the uptake of the radioactive sugar, patients must have as little "natural" sugar in their bodies as possible, hence the reason for a spartan breakfast and not having lunch.  I had only a half piece of wheat toast with peanut butter since 6:30 that morning.

PET scans work by injecting a radioactive tracer (a glucose molecule and radioactive isotope, usually fluorodeoxyglucosem or FDG to those in the know) into the body and waiting for the tracer to be consumed by the various tissues and organs.  Once consumed, the tracer decays causing all sorts of subatomic commotion which the scanner picks up and uses to magically create images of your innards. 

The hungrier the tissue, the more tracer it will consume.  Tumors fall into the category of hungry and typically consume more sugar than its surrounding tissue.  This shows up as a dark spot on the image.  If the doctor sees any dark spots where they shouldn't be, it's an indication of something, like a tumor, that shouldn't be there.

The PET machine I went to is installed on a trailer (like a semi truck trailer) that is moved from site to site.  Today it was scheduled to be at LRCC.  This has got to be the most intelligent use of medical technology in the world.  Here's a huge and hugely expensive peice of equipment that's available to nearly any medical facility that needs it!  Sure, it doesn't cost peanuts to rent the thing, but I'm sure it's less expensive than buying and maintaining one which puts in reach of more doctors and patients.

Once inside the trailer, I answered the standard litany of medical questions (and always "Are you pregnant?"  Haven't they caught on by now?) and added that I had four kidneys -- two native, one scarred non functioning transplant, and a functioning transplant.  The PET tech was glad I mentioned it so the doctor who interprets the images wouldn't scratch his head too long about the misplaced kidneys.

Then I was injected with the tracer, similar to a blood draw except that stuff went in instead of out, We chatted about ice hockey, knee surgery, boxing, Lou Gherig's disease and the wonders of modern medical technology while we waited for tracer to insinuate itself into my molecules.

After the proper amount of time, about 30 minutes, I was led to the PET machine.  If you've had a CT scan, there will be no surprises, in fact, newer machines have a CT scanner built in.  First, I lay down on the scanner's movable table with my legs pointed toward the machine.  It took about 15 minutes to scan my legs, then I was flipped around head first into the machine to scan my torso.  That took about 25 minutes; I may even have fallen asleep.  The process start to finish took about an hour and half, including checking in at the front desk.

On the way out of the trailer, I got to look at my images on the machine's computer monitor, and the thing that struck me most was my huge liver!  It looked so much larger in relation to my body than anything I had ever seen in books.  The tech said there was no problem, but wow!  I learn something new about myself every day.  I'll get the official read on the images in a few days.

Note to those considering a PET scan: Don't wear clothes with embedded metal such as my favorite pair of jeans.  The rivets in the jeans would have interfered with images and I was given a hospital gown to wear during the procedure.