Friday I had several medical tests beginning at 8:15 which meant catching a bus no later than 7:20. Yuck.
The tests, although ordered by the hospital, were at L’Imagerie, the same place that they discovered the cancer.
I have the type A personality that feels I need to get an A in medical tests the same way I did in school.
The first exam was a lung X-Ray. The young woman was friendly as she put me in a position against a white panel. I passed Lung101. An A in clean lungs.
Then came the sonar. Dr. B. was a woman in her 40s, with thick black hair. She greased me and ran her sonar stick telling me to breath deeply.
“Why?” I asked, not that I was going to refuse.
“It pushes certain organs down so I can see them,” she replied.
I was able to see my organs on her monitor, but for the life of me all it looked like was a pen and ink drawing of waves. However she gave me an A in clean organs.
My bones were then scanned. Only a B+ or A-…Two little spots of osteoporosis one on my hip and one in the lumbar area just like two years ago.
Finally they did another scan and I have no idea what for. They strapped me to the table and I imagined waterboarding. Instead for 40 minutes this machine examined something. I fell asleep. Afterwards the doctor said, I had no problems. Another A.
Having to kill time before getting nuked it seemed only sensible to go to the Laughing Tea pot in the Vieille Ville, drink a pot of the tea of the month that contained sunflower petals and eat a scone. I can get an A in scone eating too.