I wrote a few weeks ago that due to the nasty little beasties at the back of my throat causing me problems I was going to be getting the buggers ripped out to rid me of recurrent tonsillitis. Well the appointment was originally booked for the 28th so I was gearing myself up and getting a bit nervous when on the 17th I had a call to ask if they could move it to the 21st. I was half asleep at the time, they called me at 8.30am and the kids were having a rare lie in! In my foggy haze I immediately said yes. EEEEK!
On the Tuesday morning I hopped out of bed at 6.30am (hopped and 6.30am should never be in the same sentence) and sorted out the few bits that I wanted to take with me. I was down as a day case so I didn’t need to take a lot but I also didn’t want to get too bored if I was last on the list. I woke the Hubby and the Boys so that they could drop me off at the hospital. I was left at the entrance and I waved goodbye to my little family. I really didn’t want to go through that door on my own. Upon entering I was quite disappointed to see everyone else had bought human company with them, all I had was a stash of Harry Potter books. I was told at my pre op not to bring anyone which is why I didn’t seek alternative child care and have the Hubby holding my hand.
I sat down in the waiting room with Harry Potter and decided to try and get lost in the book to pass the time. Surprisingly I was called straight away and saw a nurse who asked a load of questions about my health. I spent the next hour being interviewed by various medical types all asking me the same questions about allergies and what not until finally I was told that I was second on the list. Every person that I saw commented on how big my tonsils were and it got to the stage where I had to try hard not to be offended!
I was given the rather fetching hospital gown and stockings to change into and sat in what I can only describe as a holding area to wait my turn. I was getting more and more nervous and started telling myself off for not making more of a thing about it with the anaesthetist. Apparently they would have given me valium which I quite fancied as I watched everyone around me get worked up. My name was called and a man wearing Newcastle United scrubs had to check my wrist band (again!) I was led down to a freezing cold anaesthetic room and told to get comfy. The healthcare assistant was lovely and wrapped me up in lots of blankets and made me laugh, taking my mind off the impending throat slashing that was about to take place.
There I was having a lovely chat with them all as they popped their machines on me when all of a sudden the anaesthetist said “here’s your shot of gin” and injected something into my cannula. Because she had said she was going to flush the thing I thought it was just saline or something so kept blabbing away. I have no idea when I fell asleep, if there had been a pregnant pause or if I had just passed out mid sentence. I would love to know if they had all been talking crap for my benefit and then shut up as soon as I was gone or if they had carried on without me!
The next thing I knew people were bugging me. I swatted my hand and grunted “I’m sleeping leave me alone! “ I vaguely saw the face of the rather dashing surgeon that I had met earlier in the day and the faces of various nurses. A little while later someone was properly shaking my arm and saying my name. I grunted, rolled over and squinted one eye open daring them to have a good reason for disturbing my slumber. That’s when I realised where I was.
I decided it was probably best to wake up properly and was greeted with a huge smile from the nurse that introduced herself as my carer for the day. She had a bit of a chuckle about how hard I had been to wake up and said she was off to inform the surgeon because he had tried to come and see me 3 times. I had been out of surgery for 2 hours but had refused to wake up enough to be useful to anybody. Off she went and I took in my surroundings. My throat was ok, it didn’t hurt too badly. The end of my tongue was numb and felt horrible but overall I was alright. The nurse came back with some water and the surgeon who started by saying I had some very large nasty tonsils that had been a right pain to take out, so much so the hour long operation had taken 1 hour and 45 minutes.
The nurse got my bag so I was able to text the Hubby and my mum to tell them that I was still alive and mentioned all the comments about the size of my tonsils to my mum to which she replied “so you had tonsils the size of testicles then?” Yes thanks for that mother.
The rest of the day was spent with me either falling asleep or drinking Ribena. At one point the nurse was laughing at me again because she had told me she would be back to take my obs and within 5 minutes I was fast asleep and refusing to wake up for her. I braved a Tuna sandwich, after a syringe full of Oramorph, and some biscuits at about tea time. Eating and drinking made me feel a lot better and I managed to get through 2 jugs or water and 3 jugs of Ribena in about 2 hours. The Hubby was finally able to pick me up just after 6pm and we headed home.
The Boys were pleased to see me and Spike gave me lovely cuddles and wouldn’t let me out of his sight for a few days but I really wasn’t coherent. It was almost like I had narcolepsy. One minute I was fine and talking away the next I was fast asleep and dribbling! We soon worked out that I passed out about 40 minutes after taking a dose of codeine so made sure that I took it just before I wanted a nap and just before bed instead of just before popping out to the supermarket! For a few days after my actual operation nothing I said made sense and I can’t remember anything, so if I spoke to you then I can only apologise and I hope that nobody told me anything important! But here’s to no more tonsillitis WHOOP!