How ChatGPT Helped Me Navigate a Medical Crisis
When people think of AI, they imagine the buzzwords: automation, productivity, next-gen tooling. When they hear about ChatGPT or similar AI tools, they imagine developers like me using them to refactor code, write documentation, or generate meeting notes.
But no one really talks about how these tools can help in life. In moments when you’re not a tech lead. Not a developer. Not someone solving business problems.
Just a human. Worried. Confused. Looking for guidance.
A few weeks ago, my mom had to undergo kidney stone surgery. It wasn’t entirely unexpected — she had been dealing with discomfort for a while — but no amount of preparation makes you ready for the wave of stress and decisions that come with something like this. Especially when you’re the one the family turns to for answers.
I’m used to managing teams, tracking tasks, debugging production bugs at 2 AM. But this?
This was different.
This was real life.
The Day Everything Changed
It started with what seemed like ordinary back pain. But it slowly turned into intense, unrelenting discomfort. A CT-KUB scan revealed a 9.5 mm kidney stone. The doctor recommended RIRS (Retrograde Intrarenal Surgery) — something I had never heard of before.
From there began a cascade of tests, scans, and hospital formalities. Reports flowed in with terms I didn’t understand — creatinine, GFR, IVP, echogenic focus. Google made it worse, showing scary scenarios or confusing me more.
That’s when I did something unexpected. I opened ChatGPT — the same tool I use to write scripts and debug APIs — and typed:
“My mom has a 9.5 mm kidney stone and the doctor has advised RIRS. What does that involve?”
The reply was calm and clear. It explained what RIRS is, how it works, and even walked me through the usual pre-op preparations and recovery expectations. In simple language.
It didn’t offer treatment advice — and of course, I relied on doctors for that — but it gave me context. Enough to explain things to my family. Enough to stay calm when fear kicked in.
A Digital Ally During Surgery
During the surgery, I was nervous beyond words. I found comfort in chanting quietly and — again — asking my AI assistant:
“How long does RIRS take?”
The response said 45 minutes to 1.5 hours, depending on complexity. That gave me something solid to hold on to. A window of time to manage my emotions.
I also asked:
“Why do they insert a stent after kidney stone surgery?”
And it explained — to allow urine to flow freely and prevent blockage during healing.
These weren’t just answers. They were emotional stabilizers. Little pieces of certainty in an otherwise chaotic time.
The Recovery Phase: Back Home, But Not Back to Normal
The procedure was successful. The stone was removed, and a stent was placed for 30 days. But healing didn’t mean everything was suddenly okay.
My mother was weak. Her head spun. She hadn’t had a bowel movement for a day. She kept asking:
- Can I walk with a stent?
- Why does my side hurt?
- When will I feel normal again?
Thanks to my late-night chats with AI, I had answers.
Liver-area discomfort? Normal due to internal irritation.
Head spinning? Common after anesthesia.
Delayed bowel movement? Likely from medication and fasting.
I explained things calmly. That helped her feel safe — and that helped me feel useful.
I also used it to understand which medications were prescribed and what each one was for — pain management, infection prevention, or easing urinary flow. This gave me more clarity when my mom was unsure whether she really needed something.
Insurance, Emotions, and Empathy
I also had to deal with insurance. What is pre-authorisation? What does ‘co-pay’ mean? Why is the final bill more than I expected?
The AI helped me break down what the insurance covered — surgery, room charges, consultation fees — and what it didn’t, like certain consumables or advanced imaging. It helped me calculate the pocket expenses beforehand and avoid surprises. I understood what I had to pay out of pocket and why.
It was strange but beautiful. A tool that helped me debug fear and uncertainty just as well as it helps me debug software.
What This Journey Taught Me
- Technology isn’t just for scaling code. It can scale your emotional resilience too.
- Being a techie helps — even in hospitals. Asking structured questions, organizing information, breaking down complex reports — that’s all transferable.
- Empathy is the ultimate soft skill. Understanding your loved one’s pain, and being able to explain things kindly, changes everything.
- You don’t need to be a doctor to be helpful. You just need curiosity, calm, and compassion.
The Most Meaningful Project of My Life
I’ve launched features, optimized services, and mentored devs. But nothing comes close to helping my mom through her kidney stone surgery.
This wasn’t a Jira ticket. There was no rollback. No test environment. Just one shot at showing up as the son she needed.
And somehow, strangely, technology stood by me. Not as a distraction, but as a guide. Not just as a tool — but as a friend.
So to my fellow devs and engineers — don’t underestimate what you’re building.
Sometimes, what you create helps someone feel a little less alone in a hospital hallway. Sometimes, it holds someone’s hand quietly through a storm.
You don’t need to be an expert in medicine to help your loved ones. All you need is curiosity, the right tools, and a bit of tech intuition. Whether it’s understanding test results, preparing insurance documents, or simply figuring out why your mom is feeling dizzy after her first walk post-op — you can manage it.
And if a coder like me can decode the chaos of kidney surgery, so can you.
If this resonates with you, or helps you or your loved one in any way, feel free to share. I never imagined I’d be writing about hospitals instead of frameworks — but here I am, and maybe that’s the most meaningful build I’ve done yet.
