Ever had a CAT Scan? Me neither, so I was unprepared for what it entailed,
but this morning was my turn to experience a CAT Scan with contrast.
Now what the heck does “with Contrast” mean, and how much difference does with
or without contrast make? I would soon discover one generally prefers the sans
contrast type. As instructed, I arrived at 8:15, an hour before my appointed
scan, filled out my new patient paper work, and then waited. And waited and
waited, and waited.

Eventually I was called to have my “drinks.” My what? It seems I was expected
to drink 2 – 16 oz glasses of CountryTime Raspberry Lemonade flavored Barium,
in rapid succession, a minimum of 45 minutes before the CAT Scan. Slowly, a
light begins to dawn — Contrast means dying the insides of my organs with Barium,
and did you know that BARIUM is a by-product of nuclear fission of uranium-235?
URANIUM for Gods sake!

No matter how much CountryTime Raspberry Lemonade they put in the Barium, it
still tasted 50 ways to ucky, and made me gag. The first glass went down in
about 5 minutes, the second glass, well, that took a little longer – somewhere
between 7 and 10 minutes – so great was my aversion to the stuff. Thus began
my 45-minute wait until it was my turn to be scanned. My nausea subsided within
15 minutes, along with the raspberry-barium taste in my mouth as I read an old
Newsweek. I hoped the worst had passed, but then a new problem took hold – I had
so much Raspberry Lemonade Barium sloshing around in me I was about to burst.
At last, I was called, and unable to take the building pressure in my intestinal
region, asked if using the restroom would negate my results. The nurse looked
at me as if I were nuts, and sent me off to the restroom.

Once escorted to the scanning chamber, the technician informed me what was
about to happen. I was going to have an IV that would produce hot flashes for
about a minute, had the potential to make me vomit and might produce one lulu
of a headache. Gee, yet, more fun! While signing paperwork agreeing to the IV and its nasty potential side affects, the attending nurse
walked over with another 16 oz cup, and handed it to me, saying, “Drink this.”
It was creamy white, a little frothy and had a slight coconut scent.

“What’s this?” I foolishly asked, although, in my heart, I already knew the
answer.

“Barium,” she replied, “you need more, the stuff you had earlier is probably
out of your system by now.”

I wanted to shout at them: “Great, if the first stuff is out of my system by now, why did I have to drink it in the first place?!?” But I didn’t, I just did as I was told.

Post Barium Pino Colada and more gagging, I lay down on the
CAT Scan flat bed, the technician put in my IV, I enjoyed my brief hot flash,
and in 15 minutes or so inside a tube, we were finished. Just in time for my
next urgent race to the restroom.

Once dressed, I stopped at the nurses station to see if there was anything
else they wanted to do to me – but they said no, just drink a lot of water,
and expect to spend a significant amount of time in the bathroom. No Kidding.

Cross my heart, next time, I’ll have the CAT Scan, sans Contrast, thank you very much. Needles don’t seem nearly as horrific as those Barium cocktails.

So here it is, the day after Labor Day, and already I am in summer withdrawals. In Florida, the kids went back to school the first week of August, and as you travel northward along the Eastern seaboard, in a steadily staggered stream, kids begin the new school year. In most places, this signals the unofficial-official start of Fall, even though the autumnal equinox is still 16 days away.
Already, from friends and the media, I am hearing wistful pleas for the crisp cool weather that true autumn brings. Their desires range from wearing warm snuggly sweaters, to walking through crunchy fallen leaves to lighting their fireplaces.
Since moving north, fall signals mixed emotions in me. While I look forward to my birthday, Halloween, and federal holidays galore, it is with great dismay that I watch as the daylight hours begin to shorten to miniscule proportions, the leaves begin to fall from the trees – leaving bare, twisted, and skeletal tree forms, and temperatures dip below the comfortable 60 degree mark. It always seems as if spring takes forever to get here, doesn’t stay nearly long enough, and summer is fading before you even have a chance to get into playing.
For the last 6 years, I have wondered, where did my summer go? And here I am again, wondering that same thought once more. I console myself that we have a month of transition between summer and fall — Indian summer it is called in some places — where the daytime temperatures are still pleasant, but the night-time temperature begin to dip, requiring a jacket of some sort. Soon, it will be fall, followed by that most dreaded of all seasons — winter.
I take comfort in the fact that soon the haunting season begins, and while GoatMan Hollow is on hiatus this fall due to a move to a larger and permanent site, we have numerous haunt trips in neighboring states. Too soon, there was an unacustomed chill in the air this morning as Abby went for her morning stroll, still evident when I left for work, requiring a sweater when I sat down at my desk. Fall – it has begun.

Finally – all the stressing (and whining and crying) I have done this summer (okay, to be truthful – years of stressing, whining and crying) over taking and completing this most hateful and dreaded course has come to a resolution.

I am happy (relieved, grateful, overjoyed, exuberant, ah, well, you get the picture) to report that I passed the #!*-*$!# class with a…drumroll,please: a C! Yeah, I know, there goes the overall GPA, but who cares! I passed Algebra! And I am alive, well, and still (relatively speaking) sane.

It seems that along the Eastern seaboard, the pollen count has risen to “high” levels and that the official ragweed season is upon us. This came as a great surprise to me yesterday when I went to pollen.com and discovered that we too, were in the red zone of allergens. According to news reports, the season began a few weeks ago and will reach full strength in about 2 weeks, i.e. right around Labor Day. Several friends have already reported that their late summer allergy and sinus symptoms have begun.

I dread this time of year, as it signals not only my own runny nose, but migraine like sinus headaches, and worst of all: the potential for painful sinus infections. It also means that my 3 month break from Allegra-D is coming to a close. Good thing I set an appt. to see my new Gen Practicioner on Monday afternoon, as my prescription renewals are completely tapped out. The start of a new prescription also signals (for me) a weeks worth of sleeplessness and chronic yawning. Keep your fingers crossed that I make it through the weekend with nary a sniffle or sinus pressure.

Has the Fall allergy and sinus season begun where you are? How are you coping?

Last week, the call went out to all GoatMan Hollowers for assistance with pouring the concrete pad upon which Dr. Fletcher’s new lair will be constructed. The email read something like “Calling all Able Bodied” something or others. Knowing virtually nothing about concrete pads past what I’ve seen on HGTV, I ignorantly wondered, just how hard could that be? I mean, I’ve never done this before, but, come on – how difficult could this actually be? Boy, what a maroon I am.
The call time was for 7am (oh gawd – on a Saturday – I should have known this would be a sadistic act) with a thought to have the project completed by noon or 1pm at the latest. Arriving right on time, I put on the bright yellow, size 13 plastic boots I was given over my grungiest tennis shoes, grabbed what is fondly termed the “come along” and began my 4 hour abs and lower back torture in earnest.
Mercifully, the site was shaded on many sides by mature woods, and the sun did not ascend to complete overhead misery until well after 9 am, when we were somewhere between 1/3 and 1/2 of the way finished. Being the only GoatMan girl dumb enough to put on wading boots and pick up a “come along”, I somewhat held my own with the 13 other men who were expertly man handling the poured concrete. I was grateful for the humorous company of other masochistic GMHers as we toiled away – being careful not to trip ourselves in the poured concrete, and the always diabolical wire laid at the bottom of the pad’s form. (How’s that for pseudo construction lingo?)
After the 11th truck,(or was it the 12th- I was so dazed, confused and exhausted by that point that I really don’t remember) had disgorged its last yard of concrete, taskmaster Jay told the GMHers that we could head back to the farmhouse. I think it was so they could get us concrete novices out of the way so the real professionals could actually accomplish something. No matter, it was with great glee (and relief) that we made our way back to the house, where food and showers awaited.
My insights for the day:

• Manual laborers do not get paid nearly enough for the work they do and the conditions in which they work. I was absolutely exhausted by the end of the work day and my lower back continues to be in agony
• There really is an art to pushing and pulling concrete correctly – to the right depth and smoothness. I was incapable of grasping and /or developing the finesse for the finer points of concrete pulling, and so was relegated to being a crude sort of concrete spreader.
• This is messy, ucky hard work!
• I can now say I have pulled concrete – 7200 square feet of it to be exact. I never have to do it again and you can’t make me.
• It was really hot and yucky out – it was “Africa Hot”.
• Oh, no! I just remembered – they have video and photographic evidence of my concrete ineptitude…
• Thank God I have a white collar job.