cat scan man

Had a cat scan (X-ray computed tomography) this morning from eyeball to clavicle. They shot me up first with iodine dye, and I knew they’d hit my vein immediately when I got that old metallic taste on my tongue — when tang hits tongue, you’re know you’re on.

Still have tongue tang and slight head glow hour later, like something inside radiating warmth outward, perhaps exacerbated by my bicycle ride back from the hospital.

Didn’t know the injected dye was iodine until I got home and Googled it; but now that I know, I swear I can smell it, and taste it too — the smell’s been stained in my past brain because I had a lot of iodine poured on my torn flesh in my adventurous youth.

Don’t normally share this poem but figure it fits here.

Junkie Luv

My eyes slither open, shut
In golum time my tongue
Rasps brown lizards
As I hiss my want of you
In careful solitude
O my preciousss

Sleep whispers soft leavings
On my lids my head nods
Nods my precious
These fingers numb in spite
The clash of needle
And the floor

— Smith, 1973