I’ll see your MRI and raise you a bone scan…



Tyler Hansbrough and I have a lot in common.

He had an MRI and then a bone scan in late October.

I had an MRI two years ago and last week underwent a bone scan.

The returning national basketball Player of the Year at North Carolina missed practice on Oct. 30 to have his sore right shin checked out through magnetic resonance imaging.

The next day a bone scan confirmed a stress reaction of his tibia.

Two years ago I had an MRI, the results of which were negative for a stress fracture of my right hip. Last Friday I had a bone scan of the same right hip to rule out a stress fracture. Results are pending.

Both our injuries are likely to have come from overuse. Tyler’s pain probably is from the continuous pounding associated with playing basketball every day.

My sore hip is doubtless from the continuous pounding as a result of running an average of 20 miles per week.

Both Tyler and I are the strong, silent types. And we both reek with modesty.

Tyler puts his pants on one leg at a time – so do I.

He enjoys eating – likewise with myself.

Bear with me, I’m trying to find some other commonalities I have with Tyler ... oh yeah, we’ve both been injected with radionuclides. OK, so that’s part of the bone scan.

In case you’re wondering what’s the difference between an MRI and a bone scan, an MRI doesn’t require being injected with nuclear material. I’m not a scientist so that’s as far as I’m going with that.

As for the experience, the MRI required that I lie most of the way inside an enclosed cylinder. My head remained just outside, so I didn’t become claustrophobic. It took 30 minutes to an hour.

The bone scan required the injection, then a wait of three hours for the stuff to penetrate my bones. The actual scan was under another cylinder, but it was mostly open.

My radiology technologist took four photos, two from front and back and two from either side. I basically dozed while the machine did all the work.

I had been told that the scan, or the nuclear stuff, would make me feel warm. But that wasn’t the case with me. Maybe my dose wasn’t as strong.

I had to drink lots of fluids before the scan to help get the radionuclides to my bones. Then I had to drink more fluids to help drain the nuclear wastes from my body.

One of these days, Tyler and I will get together to compare notes about our MRIs and bone scans. He’ll say something like, “Hey Larry, did your head glow after your injection?” And I’ll reply, “No, but I grew an extra leg. I still use it as a spare.”

Tyler might respond that his game has improved because he now has eyes in the back of his head.

I’ll just smile and say, “Yeah, but you only have four eyes.”

I’ll say I can run longer with my larger lungs. Then he’ll come back with, “My lungs grew too, but at least my hair didn’t fall out.”

Tyler’s sense of humor can be cruel at times.



Larry Penkava, who has written Now and Then since 1994, adds this disclaimer: bone scans pose no greater risk than X-rays.