The Tonsil Saga

Oh. My. God. It has been 10 days since I have my tonsils removed and my sinus surgery. And I thought the Gallbladder recovering was rough. Never in my life did I think this recovery was going to be quite this difficult. I mean, you read online that this will be the worse sore throat you have ever had. And I have had some nasty sore throats. And you collect all the advice of everyone who ever had anything to do with their tonsils done to them. Because, ya know, everyone has a story. And then you go through it yourself. And man does it suck.

My mom arrived on Monday night and we tromped off to the Houston Physicians Hospital bright and early on Tuesday morning. Arrived around 8, and promptly got an IV, an 8th medical history, and met with Anesthesia. I was pretty much an old pro by this point. Mom came back to say her final good bye, and they gave me some of the fun medicine that makes you not care about anything (I wonder, can they prescribe this for my own personal use during certain work meetings?). I remember rolling back to the room, and moving across to the operating table, and then meeting the medical student. And then. Nothing. The next thing I remember is HOURS later. Like, it must have been 3 or 4 in the afternoon. And I was a scene. Ice pack on my neck, Oxygen mask near my mouth, nose bandage under my nose, and cold compress on my forehead. And there was my mom, feeding me ice chips.

I vaguely remember getting my phone and getting texts from people from earlier in the day. I think my mom must have called Jessica, because at some point she texted some of my Houston friends. I, apparently, was useless. There was dinner, which I think may have been jello and some sort of cream of chicken soup. I tried to eat some, but my body was not having it. I think I slept most of the night staring at the TV, in and our of consciousness.

My mom came back the following morning with a jamba juice, which was really just peaches and bananas with sorbet. I had strict orders for nothing red and nothing citrus. Try that at Jamba juice. They brought me pancakes and eggs, and I looked at them like they were nuts. They replaced it with orange jello, which I did manage to get down. Mom brought me a Vivano smoothie from Starbucks. That may have been the only thing that I actually finished in the last ten days. By lunch the doctor was on her way in. She checked me out and asked me how I was doing. And let me tell you, at this point, I was doing pretty damn well. And I told her. I mean, my throat wasn't too raw, I was all sedated and warm and cozy, and nothing really hurt. She laughed, and told me it was going to get worse before it got better. She wasn't kidding.

We drove home and stopped at Sonic for a slushie and malt. Jess met us at the house with the babies. Brylee and I took a nice long nap on the couch and I took my first Demerol. Life was good. I remember saying something to the affect of "man, the next two weeks are gonna be so boring if I just have to sit around and do nothing, even though it doesn't hurt that much." I was psyched. And then I woke up the next morning. And all hell broke loose.

I had taken Demerol in the middle of the night, but waking up every morning for the last 10 has been my own personal piece of hell. Everything hurts. At that point my nose was still draining, so I had blood in my mouth. And I could barely move my jaw. The first two days at home were basically my mom bringing me ice, me sucking on it, falling asleep, waking up for medicine, looking at food she brought me, trying to drink a bit, and then repeat. She would make smoothies that I would take 2 sips of, and then not be able to drink anymore. She would bring me soup, I couldnt eat more than a few mouthfuls. By Friday night I was in a major amount of pain if I wasn't asleep. Saturday was a little better, and I had finally eat a little bit of rice pudding and a little bit of jello. Sunday morning my mom left to go back to California. I spent all day Sunday in bed sleeping. Didn't eat anything, made a smoothie but it was too cold for my still raw throat. Monday, Veronica arrive to take me to my doctor appointment. I weighed myself that morning, and I had lost 15lbs. I took one walk past my doctor and she ordered me a steroid shot. Once in the chair, she removed my nasal stints, and then asked me I was going to pass out. I didn't think I was, but then I wasn't so sure. She told me it might be time to check back into the hospital if I was really feeling bad (which I was). I told her I would see how the steroid shot went and take it from there. She let me go home, and I felt slightly better after the shot. Veronica stopped and we bought an egg and cheese sandwich at Sonic. Seemed like the best type of protein. I ate that and worked on drinking more water. Rachel arrived that afternoon and said I seemed to be doing fine. She missed the presteroid scene by about 2 hours.

Anyway, post doctor things got slightly better, but not too quickly. The mornings still sucked (and still do), because I wake up with basically a raw throat or a scab on my throat that then quickly is ripped off upon yawning or drinking anything. Yea, osrry, gross, but it sucks. Usually the pain subsides about noon and I can be somewhat with it for the rest of the day. I am incredibly shaky still, and I walked from my room to jessica's car this morning to take my sister to the airport, and my knees started to shake. As of this morning I had lost 22lbs. I think some of this is water weight, but it is still scary how quickly weight comes off when you just dont eat (not that I recommend this method to anyone). I am taking it slow and cannot wait for the day that I can wake up with no pain in my throat, and no drowsiness from the 3 doses of Demorol I have to take the get through the night. Definitely less than awesome. Oh, and you should see my throat. It is white. The weirdest thing ever to see. I go back on Monday for appointment #2. Can't wait to see what she has to say to me then. I just want this all the to be over and done with, and for it to be 2012.

Today was day 10. I am still in some pain, but getting through it, and borderline bored sitting at home in bed. However, I am ultra aware I have no energy, and no strength, so going back to work is going to be difficult and no fun. I am still taking it slow, and looking forward to having this weekend to continue to recover.

Let me just give a special shout out to the people to have been by to visit, bring me drinks, food, or just company: Patricia came by and just talked to me, and told me not to respond. Very much appreciated. Jess rolled in the day I came home and brought the babies, which you know will always make me smile. Becky and Thomas brought Liam over to smile and make my mom want a grandchild just a little bit more (yea...thanks Becky...). John rolled in with Odwalla galore and rice pudding, which ended up being one of the few things I could eat. Oh and some Netflix to save me from daytime talk TV. Kat came by to drop some money off and visited for a while (money is ALWAYS welcome). Veronica was like my hero, taking me to the doctor's office and then even buying me food. You all saw me at my worst, and most of you seem to still want to be my friend, so that is great news. I promise my breath will be better the next time you see me (cuz, uh, it can't get much worse). And of course, my mother and sister took care of me when i was useless, bringing me ice and dealing with my crying, bitching and moaning at all hours of the day and night. They deserve gold stars galore.

In 2012, I am doing none of this. Henry is gonna have to stay in, cuz no one is cutting into me for at least a year. I need a break!