Wednesday, August 13, 2003

My dad's been fighting lung cancer for a couple of years now.

One of my crazy schemes, since dad spends so much of his time being prodded (he went in for a CAT scan-guided needle biopsy yesterday; came out much sooner than expected, didn't have to spend the night in the hospital and they're STILL not sure what the lump is. My father the medical curiosity), is to establish a linkage between medical diagnostic scanning and the wonderful world of pampering spa treatments.

Every six months or so, dad has a PET scan--I think that's positronic electron topography or something like that. It's sort of a new thing in cancer work and my father is one of the first of his doctor's patients to be regularly scanned for that purpose. The only PET machine in Michigan is at Detroit Children's Hospital (where I have spent a bit of time myself, but as an actual child) so my dad gets to sit in a colorful little chair reading Highlights while he waits his turn.

When you have a PET scan, you have to be as still as possible, including your heart rate and everything. So in addition to not eating or drinking anything the night before, the patient has to spend (I think) an hour just before the scan lying in a dark room trying to make themself as comatose as possible. "Do you meditate?" they asked my dad. "Because now would be a good time to practice." No reading, no talking, no music, nothing.

So my idea is that we get a team of estheticians in there, and they wrap the patient up in seaweed and mud packs and mineral salts and flower petals and what-all those estheticians have; plastic wrap and hot damp towels and so forth. Bind the patient up like a fruity mummy. Relaxes the patient AND good for the skin! Keeps the patient still! Flushes toxins! Makes the room smell good! There are already dentists in NY who have massage therapists on staff to rub people's feet who are getting their teeth drilled; I think there's a market.