One day when I had taken my son to the dr for yet another bout of tonsil problems my dr turned to me and said "open mother" as he came towards me with a tongue depressor.... To my horror he tells me I am infecting my son and if I had my tonsils out my son will be fine. (my daughter had already had her's out)
Appointments are made the hospital booked and off I go. Now, I admit I was a bit blase about this.... my daughter had, had her's out at four and was fine.
The next morning I am prepped for surgery, got told off by a very officious nurse to stop reading my book as I need to be sleepy.
Operation over, I hear people saying my name, then I am crying and trying to scream. Gosh the pain was incredible. Not only that but, it apparently took a while to bring me back. I had, had an allergic reaction to the anaesthetic.
Next thing I remember is that I am back in my room which to my disgust I am sharing with 3 other elderly women. I had booked a private room and my dr changed it he told me later. Said a private room would have kept me too isolated and I needed company, okay, I swallowed that story without an argument and found out later what really happened was the shortage of beds.
I got a shot of something that sent me to sleep and woke up with a dowager sponging my forehead and the other patient from the bed opposite also sponging me. I had been crying in my sleep and here they are like mother hens fussing over me. I felt such a fraud. after all I ONLY had my tonsils out and the dowager had cancer and her breast removed and the other one had a drip of some sort hanging off her.
I had slept albeit fitfully the rest day away and now it was dinner time.... food had arrived. Now, I was looking forward to the jelly (jello) and icecream as is the usual fare for tonsil patients instead I get a roast chicken dinner.... OMG the pain! I had tried some mash potato with the gravy and the salt stung so much (may be the reason I do not eat salt) One of my carers in the bed opposite rang for a nurse who rushed in saw what was wrong (I was sobbing like a baby) said a boy up in the children's ward had also had his tonsils out and was insisting on "decent food" so she swaps our plates over.... Oh how wonder that icecream felt slipping down my throat.
Next day my dr comes in.... I ask why my tongue is so swollen and stuck to the roof of my mouth and why do I have such painful earaches and why is my chest so sore? He tells me I had quinsy and my tonsils burst!!
And that I don't want to know what they did to my tongue and my chest soreness was from where he leaned on me..... My earaches were caused by tissue from the burst tonsils.
Every day when my dr visited he would sit beside me and give me a cuddle and repeatedly said "the closer you are to ten the easier this is" One of the nurses said he is a softy and when I had been crying in pain he would come out of my room blowing his nose.
The dear ladies over the way continued to sponge my forehead, and croon you poor thing to me ... Gosh I felt such a fraud I knew I was going to get better but was very unsure about these 2 sweet ladies.
Eventually I started to improve. The twice daily sometimes more old fashioned vicks in hot water and a tent made from towels as an inhaler helped. I had to do this myself on a needs basis and not wait for a nurse. Fine by me.
And I cannot leave out the twice, sometimes 3 times daily injections of morphine. I was beyond pain on morphine. One night a friend dropped in just as I was in the middle of a Morphine high,... I frightened the life out of her, there I was sitting in the middle of the bed with the waste bin firmly clasped in my hands as I tried to be sick and telling her this was great stuff and I was going to the mall when I got out to get more.... I was so beyond pain and was even able to talk what I thought was normally instead she later told me I was slurring my words all over the place.
Eventually the old dear with the drip thing goes home and I am left sharing the room with the dowager, what a darling old lady she was. Eventually she too goes home and 2 more patients take their places.
Now, I knew from my daughter's overnight stay that I should be home with my children by now and had been nagging my dr for a few days to let me leave.... finally on the eleventh day I was allowed to go home.... to bed. I had lost 11 kilo in hospital and was so weak for quite a few weeks ..... guess living on jelly and icecream will do that to a person.
During my recovery I had to take my son off to the dr with tonsillitis again. And this time he tells me my son will need his tonsils out. I was like HEY!! you told me to have mine out so he wouldn't need to!! Words can not describe how upset I was with the pain I went through thinking I was saving my little boy from this ordeal to be told he had to get his out. Somehow I felt tricked.... And like a child of course he sailed through is operation.
Before my son has his operation I had to go for my checkup.... still mad about being tricked I was very grumpy with my doctor, who tells me the tone of my voice has changed. I shrugged like who cares I am too mad with him... then he tells me he loves my new voice that I sound like a young Katherine Hepburn who he loved. If that was meant to be flattering it was't and it didn't endear him to me as I always thought her voice to high pitched and squeaky. He who had seen through many trials and the birth of my children. Who btw guessed the sex of both my babies. Laughed as I left the consulting room.
I still remember the first time he laughed at me and oh, how hard he laughed when on my first consult with him I shyly asked for the contraceptive pill. And when I told him the dr I went to had turned me down and said his name my dr laughed even harder. Turned out the first dr was head of the Catholic family planning.....