So I had to go get a CT scan today, and it was the kind where you drink the Barium "milkshake". (Thankfully there is no "milk" in the shake, or my lactose intolerance would be another story!) DH and I went in early in the morning, and I started drinking it immediately, on an empty stomach, with toothpaste flavor still in my mouth. They informed us that 60 minutes after I finshed the stuff, then they could do the test.
I sat drinking the soupy goop, and with every sip it seemed to taste a little more unpleasant. As I polished off the last of the first bottle, I involuntarily made a face and shook my head. Everyone in the waiting room started laughing at me! Glad I could entertain them at 7:15 in the morning.
Then I pulled out my knitting, and worked on the Rhinebeck Mitten KAL. Naturally, they came out and called my name right in the beginning of the cables - ! And yes, another funny face. I know this from the expression on my husband's face at the time. I finished my row, and went off to the test.
After 40 minutes of several nurses trying to find a vein to pump some more meds into me, an older nurse with an assured confidence came in and put on the tourniquet. She hit the vein on the first try, and smiled at the nurses who hadn't succeeded.
"What's your name again, Dear?" she asked me.
"Liz Marino. Frustrating nurses since 1966." I answered.
You guessed it - more laughing. Glad to oblige. Now could we please get on with the test? Oh, sure. It took 9 minutes. Yep, 9.
I sat drinking the soupy goop, and with every sip it seemed to taste a little more unpleasant. As I polished off the last of the first bottle, I involuntarily made a face and shook my head. Everyone in the waiting room started laughing at me! Glad I could entertain them at 7:15 in the morning.
Then I pulled out my knitting, and worked on the Rhinebeck Mitten KAL. Naturally, they came out and called my name right in the beginning of the cables - ! And yes, another funny face. I know this from the expression on my husband's face at the time. I finished my row, and went off to the test.
After 40 minutes of several nurses trying to find a vein to pump some more meds into me, an older nurse with an assured confidence came in and put on the tourniquet. She hit the vein on the first try, and smiled at the nurses who hadn't succeeded.
"What's your name again, Dear?" she asked me.
"Liz Marino. Frustrating nurses since 1966." I answered.
You guessed it - more laughing. Glad to oblige. Now could we please get on with the test? Oh, sure. It took 9 minutes. Yep, 9.