Gallstones… then no gallstones.

Today I have had shockwave therapy on my dozen little trinkets contained within my gallbladder.

It wasn’t quite what I expected – I expected them to hold a little gun against my belly, press a trigger, and a clicking noise to work the magic.


I was showered, sterilised, dressed in a surgical robe (just in case I needed emergency surgery… thanks for the reassurance!) and then whisked down to a theatre.

I laid on a very big fat comfortable airbed… and thought “ah this is the life”… until they shaved part of my belly, and them stuck a needle in me. Gee thanks. A local anaesthetic, because apparently the shockwaves can hurt. Nice.

Finally, a large C shaped machine was tucked under me and over me, tightened up until it compressed my abdomen slightly, and then I was velcroed down to the bed. Yes this was getting fetishistic… especially considering they had lubed me up with KY Jelly on my stomach!

The treatment itself consisted of moments of a rather violent buzzing sensation and clicking, and then calm whilst they stuck an ultrasound camera on me and checked the progress… it was amazing to see my blood flowing in my portal vein, and I could make out my right kidney, and my large and small intestines!

After a while and a large number of these clicks I watched the number of stones diminish from actual stones into cloudy patches.

Finally, I was cleaned down (yay!), and whilst still on the bed taken up to a recovery bay where I was kept until I was ready to get dressed again.

I am now sore, on a restricted diet, and my guts feel all bubbly… apparently all normal. There are a few more things I need to watch for as they are normal. I have a little bottle of tablets (2 a day for 14 days) and they should suppress bile production, as such meaning I have to have a low fat diet.

I’m now rather tired… but feel better knowing the procedure was 100% successful.

I doubt I’ll be at work tomorrow though… I really am that sore.

Published by Kris

Bassist. Cat servant. Everything is better shiny.

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