So I’ve been on a different kind of trip lately…

I went Lithotrippin’. Well, let me clarify. My Mom went Lithotrippin’. AKA, she successfully underwent and survived a Lithotripsy. I was just the transporter/waiting-room waiter/post-procedure caregiver.  She’s the one that really deserves the kudos. (But, as I’m want to do, of course, I seek  accolades and admiration when, in fact, my job was totally painless and easy.)

Do you know what Lithotripsy is?  Neither did I, until her recent medical ordeal. 

 Here is a “way, way layperson’s” definition: A non-invasive procedure that busts up one’s kidney stone(s). 

So, yeah…

The urologist and the anesthesiologist and their team “knock out” the patient and put them in (under? on top of? around?) a fancy-looking,  massive, apparently very pricey machine. And then they place the knocked-out patient’s mid-section in a little of puddle of water. And then that big machine shoots shock waves into the water, which then bounces up and hits the targeted area where the kidney stone at issue is stuck. The goal is to shatter the stone into little pieces (think little, pretty, glisten-y rocks and gravel) which will then be eliminated au naturel post-surgery. (Remember: my layperson definition.)

 Lithotripsy machine 

Not my mom (obvi) or the doctor (darn) that did the procedure

So, yeah…

Knock on wood:  So far, so good.  All indications are that Dr. G (Urologist Extraordinaire)  succeeded in exploding that stupid, ugly kidney stone that was causing her so many problems. 

And Yay: Like a lot of things in life, the anticipation of the procedure was much, much worse than the reality of it. :)





One Response to Lithotrippin’
  1. Dorothy
    August 9, 2012 | 1:24 pm

    This was great…. Do you think I could keep manufacturing kidney stones and you could write a novel? LOL Xxoo MOM

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It's true! Despite playing defense virtually all my life against the onslaught of this sometimes-ugly aging process, it...has...arrived! I naively thought I would escape cellulite (the Cottage Cheese) and crow's feet (the Crepe Paper). But I didn't! And why didn't anyone tell me about this emotional roller-coaster that comes with being an Empty-Nester?! My name is Jodie Barringer Myers. I'm a 54-year-old Friday/chardonnay/ hydrangea-loving wife/mom/court reporter living in Sacramento (Gold River!), California. Writing is cathartic for me. And because I look to find humor and humility among the rubble that is my now very peri-menopausal self, I'm hopeful that you will laugh, cry, learn, enjoy and, most of all, relate to what I have to say. After all, we're all in this together, right?

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