Had my CT planning session today.
It seems that what oncologists, urologists, and scientific papers refer to as Whole Pelvis Radiotherapy (curative treatment that includes prostate and pelvic lymph nodes) is different from what Radiologists refer to as Whole Pelvis Radiotherapy (which is a palliative treatment for pelvic bone mets). I wonder how often these get mixed up?
The Radiography reception nurse (that will be completely the wrong name) was very impressed when she asked if I had any kidney problems, and I produced a spreadsheet printout of all my blood test results since 2011. "Never had anyone bring that before," she said. My creatinine level is slightly above normal, but some way short of the 120mmol/L max for the contrast dye to be used, so that was OK.
I'd been to the loo on the way in, emptying out No 1's and No. 2's. My body seemed to anticipate this event and had been running overtime on the No. 2's the night before, so there was nothing there. That was until I'd drunk my litre of water and the CT scan started, at which point I could feel my guts rumbling, and duly failed the empty bowel test. Took the enema and went back into the waiting room to empty out the No 1's and No. 2's again. The 15 mins they said the enema would take got to 45 mins without any signs of anything, so I thought I'd better try. Still nothing much, but downed the second litre of water. I could feel my blood pressure was through the roof with all that fluid - my bladder is only fractionally over half a litre, and the excess fluid was making my heart pound whilst laying the CT scanner. Anyway, my bowels passed muster second time around, so I had the second part of the CT scan this time with the contrast dye, was drawn on by felt tipped pens, and then tattooed. I pondered going to the tattoo parlor afterwards to get them turned into proper gun target tattoos, but then thought better of it - one of them is only 2cm from the dangly bits. Talking of which, they initially stuck some tape or similar (I couldn't see with my head laying flat) in the positions, and the one next to the dangly bit he unsuccessfully tried to rip off my pubes in one jerk, which wasn't the most pleasant experience.
I hung around in the hospital for a hour or so or I was going to get caught short on the M25, with all that water still working its way through.
Anyway, the main lesson of the day is don't try and fart after you've had an enema, not even hours later. Fortunately I had just arrived home and the underpants could go straight into the washing machine. I could so easily have been sliding around in the drivers seat on the M25 though.