Ugh.

Just ugh. I'm not feeling like my usual go-with-the-flow-life-is-good self today. First of all, my right eye is not overall blurry like it was yesterday during the numbing, but there haven't been any miracle clearings of the other issues either. Second of all, my left eye, since my PET this morning, has developed a clear—I mean defined—blurry spot of its own, smaller than the right eye (thank goodness), and not quite in the center of my vision. I can still see very well outside, and certainly well enough close up. I'll call Dr. Meyers-Powell tomorrow when she's back in the Northgate office and see if I should start the steroids in the left eye, too.

Third, the reason I didn't have a CT on my schedule for this week was because it took place just after my PET today, in the same big donut. I had been told, weeks ago, to expect this, but I forgot. I mostly figure that I have to be at the clinic anyway, so whatever they do, they do. Still, it was rather a nasty shock to have contrast to drink this morning. Cold, viscous, "berry"-flavored contrast, an hour before I'm usually out of bed. Fourth, the PET is the only scan that they can't use my handy-dandy Power Port for, so yes, you're right, I had to get an IV in my arm (I had to get one in my hand yesterday at the eye doc's). Of course, the first poke failed, and so John was called, who I may just request next time, because he is very good.

Fifth, the technician who came in to inject me with the magic antimatter was very upset to find out that I have a belly button ring, which is really easy to remove with a pencil-nosed pliers. Evidently, the metal distorts some picture. She wanted to know why no one had ever caught it before, and I said that I have talked about it for years, and that the only time I've ever had to remove it has been for surgery. She said they didn't have any tools in the scan room, and that she would go talk to the other technicians and see what they had to say. I pointed out that there was construction going on in the building (not to mention maintenance people). Anyway, she asked the PET people and they said, since it was pretty hard to remove, that they would let me keep it. Turns out that the PET procedure has changed since 2006, and now there's an X-ray component, and that is what is distorted by the metal. We shall see what we shall see. Sixth, as the magic antimatter tech was leaving, I asked her for another warm blanket, as it was chilly in the room and I was going to have to lie pretty much perfectly still for 45 minutes to let the magic, well, work its magic. I wasn't allowed to read, because that would pull too much of the markered glucose into my eyes (which I'm thinking happened anyway). As she was going out the door, she said she would bring one after a couple minutes, as she had to record some data. I knew as she turned away that she had already forgotten. Ten minutes later, shivering and feeling completely sorry for myself, I found that there was, in fact, a nurse call button wedged into the side of my recliner. I pressed it, and pretty much immediately a nurse appeared, and 30 seconds later had wrapped me in warm cotton and turned off the lights. Okay, so that was good.

The rest of the day has actually been fine, I think, except for the nebulous physical response to all the different contrasts (three, including the radioactive iodine also with the CT), and the fact that my first meal of the day was a small apple juice and piece of string cheese post-scan, followed by a latte and three doughnuts (I guess I had them on the mind). I really didn't feel like leaving the house this afternoon, and the dogs have been exemplary lie-abouts, even Hoover. They did get some afternoon rawhide chewing as a distraction.

So, the world isn't coming to an end. It's just been kind of low-grade sucky today.