My Tonsillectomy Experience

The morning of my tonsillectomy I was remarkably calm. I had stocked up on soft foods and drinks, cleaned the house, prepared some freezer meals, laid out my comfy surgery-day clothes, filled out all necessary paperwork and taken an (approved) Xanax. I was ready to do this thing.

James took Brady to school and my mom came over to watch Cecilia. We left for Jacksonville at 8:30 on the dot to be at my 9:45 appointment. On the way, the surgery center called and asked if we could get there early, as the doctor was running ahead of schedule. “Of course!” I happily answered. This was good news to me- I didn't want to sit around a waiting room getting my nerves worked up.

When we arrived, I answered questions and signed more papers at the front desk. I didn't even sit down before a nurse came out to get me. James waited in the lobby while I went to change and get settled into pre-op. I put on one of those gowns with the lovely open back and was glad I opted for leopard print undies instead of a thong. The nurse helped me into a bed while asking a million more questions. I was connected to an IV (I absolutely hate needles) and was relieved when it was in. At this point, James was allowed to come in. The anesthesiologist came to talk to us, followed by my doctor who would preform the surgery. James was trying to make me laugh because he could tell I was getting nervous- my blood pressure was going up- and before I knew it a nurse came by and told me he was going to “slip me a mickey” to calm me down. Within seconds I was giggling and wanting James to take selfies with me. Yeah, I needed to get into surgery before I made a fool of myself.

Minutes later I said goodbye to James and they rolled me to the operating room. I vaguely remember asking if I could see my tonsils after they removed them (I did the same thing when I had my appendix out!) and the nurse laughed. Before I could say anything else a mask went over my face. I thought it was oxygen but I guess it was the anesthesia because I don’t remember anything else.

I was getting pretty nervous! 

I woke up in the recovery room and was really confused (yes, I was crying) until I remembered where I was. The nurse told me everything went well and asked if I wanted a Popsicle. Apparently, I said no and asked for a frozen margarita, no salt (which I did not receive.) That got a laugh out of the nurses, but I was probably serious. The pain was pretty bad at first and they gave me a couple of pain injections until it eased up. I started sipping some iced water and James came in. Shortly after that the nurse came in with a jar containing my tonsils. I had a good look and she took them away before I could think to ask for a picture. I know that seems weird but I have been obsessed with tonsils and tonsillectomies since I scheduled the surgery. And a lot of people get pictures of their tonsils. So I’m not that weird. I had to hang out for a couple of hours to make sure everything was going well. It wasn't until I tried to stand up that I realized I had a reaction to the anesthesia. I could barely move a muscle. When I stood up my legs hurt so bad I didn't think I could walk. I found out that there is a certain drug in the anesthesia that can cause severe muscle soreness for 2-3 days. Well that was an understatement. Muscle soreness and the inability to move turned out to be the worst part of the first couple of days after surgery.

Waking up from surgery and feeling confused. Where's my margarita??

The nurse helped me to the restroom while James pulled the car around. Armed with a barf bag and 1,000 papers we started the journey to New Bern. I was scared to death of throwing up. A lot of people are sick after surgery but the thought of vomiting with my sore throat was too much to bear. I kept dozing on and off until we reached the drug store. It was going to take 15 minutes to get the prescriptions filled. Ugh! I just wanted to get in my bed! So James drove next door to Zaxby’s to order some lunch. He asked if I wanted some fries (wasn't he listening to the doctor?? Only cold liquids for the first few days!) and I said no. Then I dozed off again and awoke to him eating CHICKEN WINGS in my new car. I kindly asked (demanded) that he stop eating chicken wings and go see if my prescription was ready. Luckily it was and we went home.

 

I got in bed and prepared myself for the pain. I knew it was going to be bad. My nurse had just told me she had hers out at age 28 and it was the worst pain of her life. She told me the narcotics would barely take the edge off the pain. I kept hearing similar stories but felt that maybe my pain tolerance wasn't as bad as I thought. I’d had multiple bouts of strep, tonsillitis, sinus infections, migraines, and went through an unmedicated childbirth. Surely I could handle a tonsillectomy. Kids get them out every day and are back to school the next week. Right? WRONG. This has been the worst pain I have ever experienced. I am on Day 5 and the pain is supposed to increase until day 8 or 9 and then gradually taper off. I have had my cool mist humidifier running non-stop, I keep ice packs on my throat and ears. I set my alarm for every hour during the night to take a sip of water so my throat doesn't dry out. I have been sleeping upright. I take my medication on a strict schedule. I think that doing these things have helped immensely. I know things could be worse. I've read stories of people being hospitalized for dehydration, or bleeding profusely and having to have the area recauterized. I am bound and determined that I will not let that happen. I remind myself daily that the pain is only temporary and soon this will all be a memory.

Recovery Day 2- I tried to drink a protein shake, but it wasn't happening.

Gatorade with crushed ice is pretty much all I've had in 5 days. 

Recovery Day 4- Winston hasn't left my side since I came home.

 I am trying to keep my spirits up by planning things to do when I feel better, reading celebrity magazines, browsing Pinterest and just being lazy. The kids are happy and Cecilia (thankfully!) is having a blast with her dad. I was a bit worried after doing the math and realizing James has only been home 3 months out of the past 12. I thought spending so much time together would be awkward for James and Cecilia but they are hitting it off and acting like they’re best friends. So with my mind at ease, I know I can sit back and let nature take its course. After all, there’s no rush. There’s still plenty of summer left.