raig daniels
My oncologist requested the scan on Monday. At 3:00 p.m. on Thursday, I got a call telling me to be there at 9:30 a.m. Friday morning. At least it got done in 5 days. I not sure I could say the same in the States.
Why the PET scan
I've been dealing with systemic pain across my chest, back, and neck. That combination raised concern. After consulting both Dr. GPT and my oncologist, we agreed the right move was a PET scan to rule out bone metastasis.The original plan was imaging after five chemotherapy treatments. I've completed three. Doing the scan now serves an additional purpose: getting an early signal on how the cancer is responding to chemotherapy.
What is a PET scan
A PET scan (Positron Emission Tomography) is a functional imaging test. Unlike a CT scan, which shows anatomy, a PET scan shows metabolic activity.Before the scan, a small amount of radioactive glucose is injected into the bloodstream. Cells that are more metabolically active absorb more of it. Cancer cells typically consume glucose at a higher rate than normal tissue, so they tend to “light up” on the scan.
Translation: areas of potential cancer activity and their relative sizes are visually apparent.
The PET scan process
The scan requires fasting for six hours beforehand, which isn't difficult when your appointment is at 9:30 a.m.First stop: a changing room. Scrubs on, belongings locked away, key in hand. Champalimaud does many things well like providing you with a thick, comfortable robe with an embroidered FC logo. It keeps you warm and makes you feel slightly less like a patient and slightly more like you're checking into a fancy hotel.
Next, I'm taken into a small room that looks like an oversized stainless-steel refrigerator. Instead of travel magnets, it's decorated with a radioactive warning sign.
I lie down, cover myself with a blanket, and a young technician inserts a catheter into my right arm. She connects a tube, tells me the injection will take about a minute, and then walks out of the room.
That's when it hits me: whatever they're injecting is toxic enough that she leaves during the process. Same logic as X-rays. Still sobering.
She disconnects me from the Matrix and tells me she'll be back in an hour. I joke, “boa noite, até já.” She laughs, closes the heavy metal door, and leaves a thin sliver of light creeping into the room.
I nap. Wake myself up, snoring. Fall back asleep.
Given how much pain I've been in lately, I was surprised I slept at all. I barely slept the night before because of it.
An hour later, a nurse wakes me and sends me to the bathroom to empty my bladder.
Then comes the scan itself. Very similar to a CT scan. You're moved slowly back and forth through a cylindrical machine. That part lasts about 20 minutes. After a short break, I'm asked for additional images, which take another 15 minutes.
And that's it.
My next chemo session is scheduled for Monday. I don't expect to have PET results before meeting with my oncologist and starting treatment.