Popsicles: My best friends for the next two weeks.
On Wednesday I lost four body parts. My adenoids and tonsils. (Read more about why I decided to pursue an adult tonsillectomy.) The recovery has been, for the most part, manageable.
Day one was the worst. We got to the surgery center bright and early (actually, it was dark still) at 6:15 am. I was first on the docket. I’d never had general anesthesia before. Waiting was tough; the jitters steadily intensified. I’d been hoping to receive an IV with some type of relaxant. Instead all they gave me was an aromatherapy tube.
Walking into the OR, my jitters turned into trembling. The nurses were very kind and gently helped me up onto the table. One of them took off my glasses and told me to relax. Another said she was going to put something in my IV, and it might sting a little.
I never felt that sting. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in a recovery room with an oxygen mask on, feeling as though I’d just come out of a deep sleep. As soon as I realized where I was, I felt an enormous wave of relief. I’d survived. It was done.
The nurse kept nagging me with questions about my pain. Somehow she’d gotten the idea that my name was Lisa (it’s Liz), and I wasn’t coherent enough to correct her. I could definitely feel that my throat was swollen and raw. But the pain was manageable.
Soon all I wanted was to see my husband. Since I couldn’t talk, I tried to write his name in the air with my index finger, but to no avail. Finally I squeaked out his name in a raspy whisper. The nurse told me I could see him as soon as I transferred into phase two of recovery. Nearby, I could hear another nurse telling a patient the same thing about his mom.
***
I learned from my husband that the surgery went well. One of the tonsils bled more than usual, and the ENT put in stitches. Apparently I was in the OR for an hour and a half instead of the normal 45 minutes.
Back at home, I headed straight for the recliner where I had set up my “healing station.” Having read how important it is to stay hydrated, I tried to sip on crushed ice and Popsicles. My throat stung with each swallow.
My stomach also protested. I tried to take the next dose of painkiller (liquid Oxycodone) and abruptly threw up everything I’d consumed. My husband, hero that he is, tracked down the ENT by phone and got a prescription for anti-nausea drugs. These didn’t help at all. For the next six hours, I threw up everything that passed through my lips. A crippling headache also pounded my skull. Whether it was from caffeine withdrawal or a leftover side effect of anesthesia, I don’t know.
Before…. After
Finally an on-call doctor recommended abstaining from all food, drink and medicine until the next morning. He thought my stomach was overly sensitized from the anesthesia.
The next morning, I kept down some Popsicles and then the pain meds. A small yet important victory.
***
I’m on day 4 of recovery and apart from that first day, it’s been tolerable. The past few days have all blurred together. My life revolves around 4-hour increments when it’s time to take the pain meds. About an hour later, I can hardly keep my eyes open, so I drift off and wake up to the alarm – and the whole cycle starts again.
Swallowing hurts. Even after numbing the area with Popsicle after Popsicle, Chloraseptic spray and Sucret drops, it still feels like I’m shoving down a semi-truck.
But so far it’s not nearly as bad as expected. When I’m not swallowing, the throat pain is around a 2 or 3. I’ve been able to sleep regularly (thanks, no doubt, to the narcotics). I still can’t talk and use a white board to communicate, which carries its own set of frustrations.
I’ve never given birth, so I can’t comment on that. But here’s how my experience compares with other painful events in life:
- Abscessed tooth: One of my molars had three failed root canals. Each time, my tooth would throb for days, as though someone were pounding it with a hammer. Definitely worse than my tonsillectomy.
- Molar extraction with insufficient Novocain: That same molar eventually cracked and had to be pulled. I unwisely opted for Novocain instead of general anesthesia. For a solid half-hour, I could feel the pressure and pain as the surgeon wrenched out pieces of the tooth — with such force, I should add, that pieces went flying across the room. It felt like he was ripping off chunks of my skull. The verdict? Though short-lived, the pain was far more severe than the tonsillectomy.
- Spinal tap gone wrong: In high school, I underwent a spinal tap to test for meningitis. The doctor bumped a nerve. After the Novocain wore off, my lower back was on fire from sharp, streaming nerve pain. I also developed a “post-spinal tap headache” – essentially, a migraine times ten. Between the back spasms, vomiting and head-pounding pain, I was in rough shape. Definitely worse than a tonsillectomy.
I know I haven’t summited this mountain yet. The most grueling road is still ahead. Days 5-10 will be miserable, I’m told. But so far, I feel encouraged – and confident that I made the right decision.
minnesota muse 