Radioactive Man

At this moment I am radioactive. Literally. You'd get a read on me with a Geiger counter. I had a bone scan this afternoon. They injected me with a radioactive dye in the morning, and 3 hours later, once it had been absorbed into my bones via my bloodstream, they scanned me for any damage.

Over the past year and a half or so, I've been having sternum problems. It was popping in and out of place, and it would hurt a lot if I bent forward or backward. This progressed to it just being sore all the time, and sometimes if I moved a certain way, it would pop, making a cracking sound. And it was excruciating. In it's current state, a smörgåsbord of movements set off this "crack"; things like reaching out, bending over, sitting up, jumping, coughing, laughing, sneezing, stretching, turning my head to the side too far or too quickly, or carrying anything somewhat heavy.

I've researched possible sternum complications, the most common being costochodritis, which doesn't entirely fit. The tricky thing about it is that it does not show up on any scan (so far, all my scans have shown nothing). None of the main causes of costochondritis have really happened to me, either. A lot of the people who have it say that when they pop their sternums purposefully, they feel relief. I cannot imagine intentionally causing that "crack"; it bloody hurts!

The test was really long and may not tell us anything, but hey, I'M RADIOACTIVE. I will be spending the rest of the day (it only lasts ~24 hours) trying to discover my superpowers.

My Doctor May Be a Witch...

My family physician is quite something. I've known him all my life, and while he's a bit overly fond of diagnosing most ailments as "post-nasal drip", he has a special power. While most big tests like MRI's and CT Scans take months to book, he ALWAYS gets me in within the month. Often within a couple weeks, sometimes even the very day I see him.

Last week I went to see him about the ongoing problems with my sternum pain. He wrote up a requisition for some sort of bone scan. By the time I got home from my appointment, there was already a message on the answering machine informing me the test is later this month.

Something is up. Maybe it's magic: he has the staff at St. Mary's under his control. Or he could have dirt on them and is blackmailing them...

Of course, there's always the other possibility: aliens.