The Bare Bones

My female technician for my Dexascan test was an attractive Asian woman blessed by a sparkling personality. Despite being in the sterility of a hospital setting, she took a few earnest minutes to get to know me, which I liked. She then took my vital signs, the results of which she liked. Standing with my back to the wall, she then used a growth stick to measure my height at a pedestrian 5’9”. I felt like a shrinking violet cut down to size.

“5’9"?” I argued, “How did I lose an inch of frame since high school?”

“Skeletal changes can happen, Mr. Tornatore. That is what this radiology department is about.”

A little too caught up in my vanity, her gentle touch needed to guide me over to the bed for the actual procedure. Dressed in a loose goosey hospital gown, I feel a little self-conscious by her human touch. After she positioned my head on a pillow, she asked me if I was comfortable lying in the prone position. I told her I never tell lies in this position. She roared.

She kept her smile positioning the scanner directly over me pelvic region. She grabbed me by the ankles to uncross my legs. She touched my shoulder to remind me to relax, lay motionless, and breathe normally. I was a puppet to her touch now. She had a subtle but commanding way about her that I have seen firsthand with hypnotists. I knew then I would have barked at the moon if she asked.

She reported to a monitor, pressed some buttons, and a dual energy beam of very low dosage x-rays passed over me. The beams measure the difference between bone density and soft tissue. It was quiet for about two minutes when I heard her voice, that voice again.

She complimented, “My, you have nice bones!”

I tried to swivel my neck to gauge more context from her expression but she instructed me not to move.

In a softer voice still, she commented, “You see, all that worry about being an inch short.”

“Thank you.” I blushed, still not certain if we were talking about a non-invasive procedure.