One of the more mundane tasks we had in the Radiation Safety Unit of Roquefort University and Weeks Hospital was the Routine Radiological Survey. The Nuclear Regulatory Commision (NRC) defines a Radiological Survey as:
“The evaluation of the radiation hazards accompanying the production, use, or existence of radioactive materials under a specific set of conditions. Such evaluation customarily includes a physical survey of the disposition of materials and equipment, measurements or estimates of the levels of radiation that may be involved, and a sufficient knowledge of processes affecting these materials to predict hazards resulting from expected or possible changes in materials or equipment.”
A shorter definition is simply: “An assessment of radiological conditions.”
We performed a Weekly Routine Survey of Nuclear Medicine, Nuclear Cardiology, and our own Radiation Safety (Rad Safety) rooms. We took general area gamma radiation readings, a “direct frisk” of horizontal surfaces such as countertops, tables, and chairs, and we took “smear wipes” which we counted later with more sensitive instruments, for “loose surface contamination.”
It’s hard to judge yourself. Are you doing a good job? Have you made any mistakes? Nuke Med and Rad Cardiology performed their own daily surveys, but as Radiation Safety we did a weekly survey to make sure they weren’t missing things. After all, the main focus of the medical groups is patient care. They might not notice if they spill a little radioactive material on the floor. I can give a couple of examples.
When surveying Nuke Med one week, as I checked the floor around a rad trash can, I could tell the radiation wasn’t only coming from the trash, but that someone had missed the can and there was a couple of square feet of contamination all around it on the floor. Daryll and Daryll were the guys in the department, but there were also several adorable women, and one of them came into the room.
“Hey, Cheryl,’ I said, “you have some hot stuff on the floor over there.” I pointed to the trash can.
“Oh, no, Justin, that’s where we throw the hot waste. That’s always hot.”
I took a paper towel and wet it slightly, then wiped it on the floor. I held it uner my frisker and it hit the high peg on the analog meter. I turned the dial up too the next scale and it pegged again. “See?”
“Oooohhhh, I get it. We’ll clean it up after we’re done with this patient. I’m not sure who was working in this room last.”
“No, I’ll clean it up. I just wanted someone to know. Looks like you guys are pretty busy today.”
“Thanks, Justin!” and Cheryl went back to her work.
Another time, I was surveying Nuclear Cardiology. As I was frisking their Hot Lab, where they mixed and verified the radioactive dose, I noticed that their computer keyboard was hot; contaminated with the radioactive tracer. One of the nurses, Peggy, walked into the lab.
“Oh, hi Justin, are you almost done in here?” It was a very small space, barely big enough for two.
“Peg, you have a hot keyboard this morning” I reported.
“That’s impossible.” She protested. “We haven’t spilled anything. Besides, I just used that keyboard. If that’s contaminated, then my hands would be contaminated.”
She held out her bare hands, no surgical gloves, and I frisked them with my Geiger counter. Sure enough, the meter pegged high, no pun intended. Peggy just said “Oh.” and turned to the sink to wash her hands. I dampened a paper towel to wipe down the keyboard.
“Are you going to give us a violation?” she asked.
“Nah, I said, this one’s on me. Thanks for the laugh! But in the future, don’t doubt me! The Geiger counter is never wrong. Well, almost never.”
Shocked in the Suburbs 