Take My Tonsils

Today was the big day.  I was scheduled to have surgery at 7:30 a.m. at St. Mary’s in Pennsylvania.  I had done an extensive amount of research prior to the surgery, and learned that during the recovery time, I was to lose roughly 10 pounds.  So, the entire week before surgery, I bulked up.  I bulked my 4 foot 11 inch body to a whopping 96 pounds!  Yee haw!  What a porker, right?  Hehehe  Well, I did what I could.

Anyway, let me first explain why I am getting the surgery, since many people have asked.  I have been getting sick quite a bit.  I have had mono twice in my life, and that left me with deep ridges and valleys in my tonsils.  About 3-4 years ago, I was hospitalized with acute tonsilitis, which honestly was one of the worst things I ever had to deal with in my life.  Because of the mono and the sever case of tonsilitis, the deep “craters” in my tonsils got larger and larger, and would trap food in them.  Instead of protecting me from getting sick, they would actually cause me to get sick!  Below is a picture of the inside of my mouth, taken about three years ago.  You can see the white ball of infection embedded inside my tonsil.  I would choke on them and my tonsils, and they would of course make me sick and cause pain all of the time.

Jessi's throat: Feb. 12, 2006

Anyway, I got to the hospital around 7:45 a.m. running late, which I hate doing.  The Doctor had prescribed Valium to take to calm my nerves, and I am proud to say that I didn’t even take one!  I left the house cool and confident with my decision to have the surgery.  I hung out in the waiting room, answering a few questions about my allergies to medications and such.  By the end of that day, I will have repeated my allergies about 7-10 times to different nurses hahaha.  They took me in the back room to set me up with an IV and change me into a gown.  Of course they didn’t have adult gowns in my size, so they fitted me with a fun and fabulous childs-size gown!   Getting the IV put in was hard for me.  My boyfriend took off of work to take me to and from the surgery, and he wasn’t allowed in while they were putting it in my hand.  I hate needles, so one of the nurses held my hand instead while the other one pricked me with the IV.  Luckily, they were both very nice, and then they got me heated blankets to keep me warm since I was shivering from the IV and wearing my little gown.  Then they let my boyfriend come in and sit with me, which was comforting.  The nurses made me drink a shot of something that they warned tasted super-sour and is horrible, but will lower the acid in my stomach in case I get sick later.  I took the shot of the sour stuff, and honestly have tasted worse drinks at local bars in Princeton haha.  The doctor came in and asked about my allergies, then answered my billion questions….I have a very overactive imagination, and by this time, my mind was reeling with thoughts, worries, concerns, etc.  Dr. G was extremely patient and he answered every question that we threw at him.  Next, the anathesialogist came in and also asked about my allergies then talked to me a bit about what he was going to do.  He mentioned that there would be a breathing tube put down my throat, and I kinda freaked out.  Would I feel it?  Would it hurt?  Would I be awake when they put it in/took it out?  I was told I wouldn’t even know it was there….they would put it in when I was asleep and take it out before I woke up.  Another nurse (her name escapes me), came in to ask about my allergies (really!?) and answer more questions.  At this point, she started to warn me about Day 7, which is the day when the scabs fall off.   Then, a few other nurses come into the room, and told me that they wanted to take my glasses.  I tell the nurses that I was told that I didn’t have to give up my glasses until it was the last possible moment.  The nurse looks at me and says, “honey, it is the last possible moment”.  I kinda freaked out, gave my glasses to my boyfriend, squeezed in a quick hug/kiss goodbye, and they lead me out of the room.  Blind.  Nervous.  Scared. Out. Of. My. Mind.  They walked me to the surgery room and asked me to hop up on the bed and lie down.  Are you kidding me?  Wasn’t I supposed to be pushed down the hall on a bed like you see on t.v.? At this point, my legs were failing me, and they had to help me get on the bed.  I felt so small, and so very alone.  And, all I kept saying was how white the room was, and kept asking the nurse if I am really doing this.  She kept telling me that I am making the right decision, and it will be over before I know it.  Then I overheard them talking about how they need to sedate me because I was freaking out.  The nurse (I think it was a nurse, I was blind and freaking out at this point.  It could have been an alien for all I know) told me to count backwards from 100.  I said, “are you serious?!” (perhaps I thought that even with my MBA level of education, it was still too high a number to count at 8 in the morning, I am not sure).  I didn’t even say the number 100, and I was out like a light.   The next thing I know, I was being woken up by a nice, smiling, little nurse saying it was all over.  I squeak out “really?!” and she smiles and says yes.  She must be an angel.  I started doing a little dance in my bed and clapped my hands.  I did my jig for a few more moments, and everyone started laughing saying they never saw anyone wake up and dance.  Go figure.  Then, I gave every nurse, doctor, probably even a janitor – anyone surrounding my bed – a high five, which only made them crack up more.  I am so glad I was able to entertain everyone hahaha.  They wheeled me to the recovery room (finally, something similar to what I see on t.v. lol)….my boyfriend came in with my glasses, and I felt glorious!  No stomach pains, no nausea, nothing!  I was high on life (well, it was the meds actually haha) and I felt amazing!  Below is a picture of me immediately after getting to the recovery room.

Jessi in recovery room 2/18/09

I was very loopy….they gave me an ice pack for my throat and several more heated blankets which were perfect.

Jessi in recovery room - 2/18/09

Then, a sweet little nurse brought me my very first post-surgery popsicle!  It was much needed!  The cold felt amazing on my swollen throat, and I was pretty hungry by this point.  I ended up inhaling 3 popsicles at the hospital!

Jessi's first popsicle 2/19/09

After I inhaled the popsicles, the nurse said I was well enough to go home.  I thought I would have been taken out by wheel chair, but nope!  I just got off the bed, got dressed and walked out the side door.  My level of pain at this point, on a 10-point scale, with 10 being the worst, was probably about a 2 or 3.  My boyfriend took me to CVS to get my antiobiotic (liquid azithromycin) and pain killers (liquid tylenol with codeine), another popsicle and we went home.  By the time I got home, I was still feeling great, but pain levels were up to about 3 or 4.   Took my meds, ate a few more popsicles, and crashed and went to bed!  The worst was over, and I was on the road to RECOVERY!