Drink 20 oz. of Water

Yesterday, I was on the go early. I arrived at the imaging center, ready for a sonogram promptly at 8:50 a.m. The person who had made my appointment told me to be there, and that I was to drink 20 ounces of water (1-1/4 lbs!) one hour before I arrived.

You can imagine my fragile state of mind upon entering the center. The front door told me that this was the right place for ma'amograms and pre-natal sonograms. Nuclear imaging was down the hall. I walked into a room of elderly woman, pregnant women, and day laborers with work injuries.

I signed in, and after a spell, the woman at the desk asked me for my Dr's orders and for my insurance card. She then informed me that my appointment had been cancelled. (Meanwhile, I was doing my little dance.)

I was stunned! I inquired why my appointment had been cancelled, and she replied she didn't know. After some clicks of a mouse and a few keystrokes, it appears that my appointment had been scheduled for the previous day, and that I had not shown up. This was news to me, since I had been very careful to schedule this appointment for yesterday, and had confirmed it at the time of making my appointment. After some to-ing and fro-ing, she rescheduled my appointment for noon.

So at eleven o'clock, I drank another 20 ounces, and headed off for the imaging center at 11:30. This time, they got me in promptly at noon, and got to work immediately.

This was the third sonogram I'd had in my life, but the second I'd had this week. You sprawl out on an examination table, the technician smears some goo (it's glacial mint blue) on a probe that looks something like a rubber spatula, then runs the probe over the skin above the body parts being imaged. The doctors want to see my kidneys and bladder - this in preparation for next Tuesday's biopsy.

The technician asked me to lower my pants, and yes, I wore underwear this time. She then had me hold up my shirt, and she draped my groin with paper toweling and went to work, first my right kidney, then my left kidney, and then my bladder. It's a weird feeling to have someone pushing down on your bladder with a medical device when your bladder has 20+ oz. of liquid inside. I was summoning thoughts of the Kalahari.

Finally, she directed me to the men's room, I came back, and she imaged the bladder again. She told me this was to determine how effectively I emptied my bladder (pretty damn good, I think!).