Going high tech

14 01 2026
Yes, I certainly waited – and fell asleep!

Doctor M is very definitely of the “new” school of surgeons – relatively young (late-forties perhaps) and easy to chat to. When I asked him if the second stage of the procedure to break up my kidney stone would take 15 minutes or so he smiled and said it would take a lot longer than that. “We have to make sure that the stone is broken into really small pieces that will easily pass down your ureter and that takes a while even with a laser. We have to retract the stent enough to expose the stone, insert the scope under active X-ray so we know exactly where we are and then blast the stone with the laser”.

When I was told a few weeks back that the kidney stone that was blocking my ureter could be removed by laser I was quite surprised. I’d assumed that it would be crushed and removed by a more basic endoscope but apparently we are more advanced than that in Zimbabwe. Perhaps it’s the dilapidated state of the nation that automatically primes one to expect that nearly all other aspects of life will be equally decrepit. Medicine has, to an extent, escaped this fate (if you have the means to afford it) though it is generally accepted that for advanced medical treatment it’s best to go to South Africa. Perhaps paradoxically it is often cheaper (it’s the competition thing).

The first stage of removal was to insert a JJ stent (so called for the shape of each end) past the stone which was partially blocking the ureter near my left kidney. This required day surgery and I had to report to the clinic in the Avenues area of Harare at seven a.m. I was checked in by pleasant and efficient staff, escorted up to a ward and then the waiting began.

At 10 o’clock my cellphone was taken away and I was told that I’d go to surgery “just now”. By noon I’d given up on the “just now” and dozed off. Around 3 o’clock I was loaded onto a gurney and moved off to the operating theatre where I was left outside. The paint was peeling off the passage walls opposite. The anaesthetist arrived and talked me through what she was going to be doing. She was young and chatty. She left, doctor M called past carrying a day pack and greeted me and then I was moved into the operating theatre and maneuvered onto the bed. The interior of the operating theatre was, to my untrained eye, modern though the overhead lights had different coloured elements that no-one could explain.

I was awake around 4.30 and the surgeon checked in on me at 5. Marianne picked me up at 7. A day spent waiting. Mostly.

Doctor M’s rooms are new, expansive and indicate a successful surgical practice. When I drove in this Friday past to have the consultation for the second phase of the kidney stone removal the car park was only half full. I was on time at 9.45 for the 10 o’clock appointment. I finally got to see him at 11.45 and yes, I fell asleep in the waiting room. When I left the car park and waiting room were full. Maybe I’d got off lightly.

I go back to the same clinic on Monday for the laser treatment. I won’t make the same mistake and will check up on the time I am expected though I suspect a fair bit of latitude will be built in to their answer. Unlike the last time I won’t be getting out the same day – apparently pain management will be required for at least one night. I guess that I will have to put up with it, hopefully I won’t have to wait too long for the analgesics!





Not a good day – nine stitches!

21 02 2010

“This is not a suture kit, this is really unacceptable!”
The doctor was not impressed though he did admit that “Suture kit” was written on the cover.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked me rhetorically as he replaced the kidney bowl on the shelf. “It’s a vaginal exam kit”. That had me in stitches (excuse the pun) for the next couple of minutes.

I’d got to the nursery that morning to find that despite or because of the two security guards, we’d had 30 trays of seedlings stolen the previous night. On hearing that his 20 dollar bonus was not going to be forthcoming one of the security guards resigned there and then. There was no power either so I went off in search of some rat poison and paint brushes.

I had to settle for extortionately priced paintbrushes. The rat poison was in paper sachets under a brand name I did not recognize. I looked closer. There was a purple triangle (very toxic contents) and the active ingredient was “aicarb”. Now I’ve heard of aldicarb (trade name Temik® and the poison of choice for killing dogs in Harare – a piece of meat, a few granules of Temik® and the dog is dead in 20 minutes) which also a purple label. I quizzed the salesman but he was clueless. Aldicarb is also a purple label chemical and is supplied in granule form as a result of being covered in lime which makes it a bit safer to handle. This was in powder form and in a paper sachet. I gingerly put it down – it might have been something else entirely but I wasn’t about to find out.

I went to the swimming pool to work off my bad mood but it did not help; I just could not get going properly. I did get a bit tired though which I’ll blame for my lack of concentration at the gym. I forgot to pick up my left foot properly (yes I still have to think about walking) and went down hard. Damn, that hurt but at least there’s no blood. Oh wrong, it soon started to run from the left side of my face.  Margie, the resident physiotherapist, gave me a lift to the Michael Gelfand clinic in town where there is a 24 hour emergency facility. The young receptionist paused as she saw the state of my face (it WAS impressive!) so I made a facetious comment about Margie hitting me with a baseball bat. The orderly who cleaned up my face was young too. As was the nurse who gave me a tetanus injection and the other nurse who took my blood pressure and temperature. The doctor must have been in his late 20s too and had come back from a frustrating work experience year in London (didn’t like the food, the weather or the people) to a fortuitous business opening. He also has a private practice and gave me his business card as I left. I asked him if I’d have to cancel my supermodel shoot that afternoon. He said probably! I liked him and was impressed with the setup of the clinic. Perhaps this really is the start of a turnaround. The future of this country will depend on the likes of the staff at the clinic, young and ready to work hard. My generation is probably a bit long in the tooth to do much.

I repeated the baseball bat joke to the three people in the waiting room as Margie and I walked out. I added a nail to the end of the bat just for effect. It was not funny.