Yesterday was finally my bigly lithotripsy procedure at the University of Utah Hospital. Technically, the procedure is called Extracorporeal Shock Wave Lithotripsy (ESWL). The word “lithotripsy” is derived from Greek words meaning “breaking stones.” (Insert joke here.) Yup, a machine called a lithotriptor pinpoints the offending calcification/stone, then zaps high energy shock waves at it to blow it to smithereens tiny enough to pass through your system and be eliminated by your body. Thank the heavens I was sedated while the pulverizing occurred. I didn’t feel a thing at the time, but I sure do now. The left side of my upper torso feels like someone beat the HELLen out of me. And it looks like it too. My ribs appear battered, bruised, and swollen. I tried to take a snapshot of the gore to post, but I couldn’t keep my left breasticle out of the picture. I decided it was best to not post that on TIE O’ THE DAY.
Anyhoo…The lithotripsy procedure itself went well, but I won’t know if the stone in my Cranky Hanky Panky was sufficiently pulverized until I go back to undergo yet another scope-down-the-gullet procedure (another ERCP). I wish I had something more definitive to tell you about whether yesterday was successful or not, but I don’t. Welcome to My So-Called Pancreatic Life.
However, I consider my day at the hospital a screaming success for two reasons—neither of which really has anything to do with my Cranky Hanky Panky. The first triumph is that, just by being ourselves, Suzanne and I made professional healthcare workers guffaw, chuckle, and snicker for about 5 hours. We didn’t mean to be entertaining. We were just entertaining ourselves in our usual banter about whatever crossed our minds, and doctors and nurses happened to overhear us. A good time was had by all, as the saying goes. At one point, one of my anesthesiologists stepped back into my room and said, “I love to hear you both laughing in here. Your conversations are so strange. That stuff about the yellow, fungal toenails was something I never even thought about.” I guess he had heard me when for some reason I said to Suzanne, “If I ever get a thick, crumbly, yellow, fungal toenail, just grab the pliers and yank it out.” Suzanne and I are highly educated gals. We think deeply. Sometimes, Suzanne and I speak about profound philosophical complexities. Apparently, we were sometimes Shakespearean stinkards, engaged in coarse—but relatively clean—conversation at the hospital yesterday.
But my ultimate triumph yesterday was the pickin’ out o’ the perfectly appropriate Tie o’ the Day. For weeks, I had been asking myself what clever neckwear I should wear to experience this new-to-me thing called lithotripsy. I was stymied. And then, when I was in The Tie Room the night before the procedure, a tie caught my eye and my wit: my cartoon “BAM, BOOM, WOW, HEY” lightning bolts and stars print kids’ tie. BAM and BOOM was exactly what the lithotriptor machine did to my torso. Tie o’ the Day was so lithotripsy-y. 👔
