You're lying on a plastic slab with a flat white 
panel that is literally 1 inch on top of your nose. The only thing on the panel is a small black cross. You stare at it, but your nose is in the way, so your eyes start playing tricks on you and you're seeing double. You close one eye, then open it and close the other. Just where, exactly, is this black cross actually located?
There's a constant, low, 2001 A Space Odyssey-type humming sounds that accompanies your every thought. It's hypnotic. The lab technicians are silent. You've brought a CD, but after a while, the Microsoft Drive Time piece on the upcoming benefits of Office System 2007 fades into the background.
Time has no meaning. You are just part of the machine. You may be sleeping. You may not be. You're not really sure. It's a semi-conscious, semi-comatose state. You're almost vegetative because no muscle in your body has moved. It's not allowed to-first by the technicians, then your mind takes over. You itch, but you can't/don't scratch. There's nothing to do, but just lie there.
Relaxing, yes, but strangely disquieting at the same time.
Then, it's done. You get up from the machine and you're not sure what is going on.
The I-123 scan required 3 sessions (22 mins, 22 mins, and 45 mins) during which I could not move. The scan seems to indicate that the tumor has not spread to any other part of my body.
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