Thirtysomething

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Call me naive. I didn't really understand what my husband's career path would entail. Last night, he came home still wearing radiation detectors and suddenly I began to realize that maybe there is a reason why they're compensated so well in his field.

You know how when you go to get an X-ray, the technican usually leaves the room to take it? And that's because, while the radiation levels are relatively low, it's not good for the tech to be exposed to it all day long. Hell, even if you're just getting one X-ray, they still cover you, the patient, in lead protectors.

The issue is, in my husband's chosen medical specialty, they're taking X-rays while in surgery to see what the heck they're doing. So they can't leave the room. And while they do wear protection, they can't cover everything, including most notably, their heads. So they wear these radiation detectors on their hands, on their neck, near their thyroids and hanging from their waist near their....you know, reproductive region. If the detector starts to turn green, they need to get the hell out of that room. And most likely start some sort of treatment.

I have to admit, even though the radiation levels are pretty low, this kind of wigs me out. The former head of this department died in his early 60s from brain cancer. Coincidence? Maybe. I don't think it would wig me out as much, strangely, if not for these detectors. It reminds me of a scene from Silkwood or something.

So between the radiation and my exposure to this, we're pretty much fucked.

posted by DJ Heavy D @ 7:30 AM