The height of frustration

Those of you waiting for the results of my quarterly review/PET scan will have to be patient. I, however, have lost mine. The first screw up came as a result of misspeaking on UCLA's part. They told me to show up on Tuesday, Feb. 22 for my scan. (Waits a beat, while all of you check your calendars--hey, Feb. 22 was a Wednesday!) TBO and I showed up on Wednesday, Feb. 22 to be told that we had been expected the previous day, natch. Of course, the hour's drive on each way was for naught, as they were fully booked. We rescheduled for last Friday, and everything was smoothly proceeding when we got there. We were early, they actually took me in for prep early, and we were off. I made it all the way to lying on the moving table--for those of you lucky enough not to have had to get a CT/PET scan, imagine a tubular-shaped donut with a tongue-like table that moves through it, carrying the poor saps who have to remain motionless for 20-30 minutes with arms raised overhead continually. (It's harder than it sounds, believe me.)--before they informed me that the machine wasn't working quite right and they were "rebooting" it. Well, 2 1/2 hours later, they finally gave up. I had been waiting for about 5 hours+ (after having ingested all the barium sulfate solution--yummo!) to find out my fate, and it still didn't happen.
As you might imagine, I'm pretty anxious to get this scanning business underway, and since I caught a nasty cold Sunday that I'm suffering through currently, my fears have only been increased. We don't have a new date set, so I'm left wondering in the dark if the cancer's come back . . .