KNIT, 2, 3, 4, KNIT, 2, 3, 4

I had my scheduled PET/CT scan today, and as usual, they wouldn’t let me knit while I waited for various injected/ingested fluids to be absorbed by my body before the scan. They said knitting requires the use of too many muscles. They wouldn’t let me read, either, because I would have to turn the pages. I guess using eye muscles is okay, because I was permitted to watch TV.

It seems to me that if we knitters are using all these muscles, we should be burning more than the 100 or so calories that knitting is supposed to consume. Maybe I could try to knit while doing a walking meditation? Knit and do leg lifts? Knit and run marathons?

Anyway, back to the hospital. Daytime TV sucks. It was a relief to be taken away and put on the “ride,” propelled slowly (with anticipation building) into the tunnel-mouth of the monster scanner.

But then . . . the technician asked me what music I wanted during the scan. New age music can be blah, but it is calming during scans and is always my first choice for the hospital. However, the tech wanted me to recite the station number for a new age radio station, and of course I didn’t know of one.

So instead I asked for classical music, thinking it also would be soothing. Oops. The tech inserted me into the scanner and turned on the music. Cymbals crashed, drums pounded, horns blared. It was as dramatic as the final, stunning moments of a soap opera, except this cacophony went on and on.

I don’t know what was playing, but it was definitely a wild symphony, probably written by some tortured composer who needed both sleep and psychiatric care. It scared the daylights out of me with its manic-depressive passages. I came out of the scanner feeling like I’d been plugged into a socket.

It is now safe to resume knitting. Scan results next week.