We've always knows S has large tonsils. When he was four or so, the pediatrician said he would eventually grow in to them. And since he was never sick, there was no reason to worry. So we didn't worry. Last year, I took S to see the ENT, who said that yes, S has big tonsils, but he has plenty of breathing space and don't worry. So we didn't worry. After M spent two nights camping with S and listened to him snore and experience apnea
all night long we decided it was time to worry. Back to another ENT we went, who said the tonsils should come out.
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| Goodbye Large Tonsils! |
Yesterday, S had his tonsils out. He was such a trooper about the whole process. All morning I was a nervous wreck, a fact I kept hidden. They kept telling me that if S experiences bleeding after the surgery, I need to call 911 and get him to the ER right away. But S was (and is) blissfully ignorant of what was going to happen. All he knew was that his tonsils were too big and they needed to come out.
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| He was nervous about the IV |
My favorite memories are: S insisting that they only trim the tonsils. He actually needed his tonsils, so they couldn't completely cut them out. The nurse tried to explain that he didn't need them, but I knew a quick, "Okay, they'll just shave a bit off," was all he needed. We had rock, paper, scissor battles in the "emperor chair" while we waited for his meds to kick in. I used my psychic mind power to influence S's decisions. We tied five times in a row because I'm not physic enough to tell him what to pick and then do what beats that with my own hands. The anesthesiologist told me S would start acting sleepy and goofy. I thought to myself, "What else is new? How will I know the meds are kicking in?" His "finger people" were having great adventures falling off the arm of the emperor chair when they checked on him-they thought the goofiness was happening; I knew nothing had changed.
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| Not feeling great today |
When we got home, he was normal. He went right back to playing Beyblades with IJ and was super-excited that I let him watch SpongeBob. But by bedtime, his throat was hurting enough to make him cry. I gave him his medicine and we camped out on the couches together with D. (I had to monitor S in case of respiratory distress or hemorrhaging). Today, he is very sleepy and not talking. He tried to play Beyblades, but I sent him back to the couch. His throat hurts, but he won't take his medicine. My poor baby!
