For the Birds

(Aren't you impressed that I could feed the birds AND take their pictures!)

Last week I had a Dexascan to assess how quickly I'm falling apart.

After filling out the survey asking - Do you drink milk?  Do you see sunlight? (Apparently they have not lived in an inversion in Utah.)  Do you go outside everyday? (Do hermits have weaker bones?)  Do you drink pop with caffeine? (Is that available in Provo?)  Are you shorter than you were ten years ago? (If only that had happened in Jr. High!) etc.  

Gratefully they did not ask - Did you have candy for lunch?  Do you have trunkal obesity? (Thank you Dr./brother John for giving our family genetic tendency to gain weight in our stomach area such a horribly sounding medical term.)  Did you get your Christmas cards sent this year? etc.

I was then taken to a windowless, darkened room where the scan was.  I laid down on the table, unzipped and opened my fly (not sure why - just did what I was told) and prepared to be scanned.  If there was a Xerox copier that was six feet long and I was preparing to be copied, that's what I felt like.  The scanny arm thing passed over my spine area to check on those bones.  The technician, who had been staring at a computer screen during the scan, stood up, came over and asked me to scoot down two inches.  Apparently the scan showed that I was in full spinal collapse and needed to be admitted immediately for bone-building IVs.  Considering that I had just walked in to the room unassisted, she felt that the scan was off (you think!?!).

I don't know about you but it concerned me a little that moving down two inches changed the look in to my future bone health.  Anyway, with that adjustment, the scan showed that fortunately I had at least 30 years before total spinal collapse.  On to my hips which showed worse conditions and the parting 'You'll be hearing from your doctor' send off as I left the room.

It was the choice of 'calming white noise' during this whole experience that left me quite 'uncalm'.  As I laid on the table and watched the scan move back and forth, I became ever more aware of the incessant bird chatter coming over the speakers.  It reminded me of four things - 1. The bird battle noise directly after I remember to refill the bird feeders in front of our house.  2.  The cages of canaries in Woolworth's store when I was a child.  (I have since decided it was terribly wrong that Woolworth's carried a seemingly endless supply of fish, little turtles and canaries for children to buy over and over and over.)  3.  My chance (for $1 a popsicle stick) to feed the birds at the zoo in Colorado Springs.  4.  The emotional scars I still have from watching the movie 'The Birds' as an impressionable 8 year old.  All in all, NOT bringing up good vibes!

I've decided the bird noise wouldn't have been quite so annoying if the track had run more than 3 minutes before repeating over and over and over again.  By the time I left I was as twitchy as our anxiety-ridden cat.  It made me long for elevator music or the always irritating babbling brook.

Anyway, I'm an inch shorter and headed outside to look for some sunshine for my ailing bones.  Wait . . . our family also has a genetic tendency for hyper pigmentation ('Dr. John' term for ugly brown spots) accelerated by the sun . . .

I may be spotted but I'll have great bones!