My Bone Scan

I was recently booked for a bone scan by my doctor in the Oncology Unit. The section of the hospital that one visits to undergo the procedure is called 'Nuclear Medicine'. The very name sounds as if one should be miles away from there never mind entering the doors!

I was quite happy when I heard that I did not have to undress and don one of those fashion disaster gowns that flap open at the back. This is great I thought.

I lay down on the concave bed, head facing the door. The Radiologist explained what would take place; the procedure would take about 20 minutes, the machine would move and come very close to my face but it would not touch me. She then placed a velcro strap around my ankles. "You must lie very still throughout the process" she said. Still okay I thought...

She then went to a computer to the left of me and began inputting data (I could see her out of the corner of my eye). Once this task was complete she then disappeared from my view. This is when my nervousness set in.

The fully automated machine began its job. The room was quiet apart from clicking and moving sounds emitted by the equipment. Things were going well, UNTIL I heard what I thought, was someone opening the door behind me.

My first instinct was to look behind me - but I had been told not to move. Newspaper headlines suddenly flashed through my head: 'Woman attacked in Pretoria hospital'. What was I to do? I am no Caster Semenya, I was sandwiched between a machine, my ankles were tied and any form of injury would more than likely result in broken bones for me.


It took every bit of my resolve to remain still on that bed while my wonderful imagination went on a superjet journey of its own. Slowly, I managed to calm myself down and remain still.

Needless to say, noone had entered the room but, it was the scariest scan I have endured and for all the wrong reasons.