Ben just finally could take it no longer - the fact that our kids had an abundance of perfectly good nodular tissue at the back of their throats just irritated him to no end. He was determined that it come out.* I was afraid he might take matters into his own (capable, I'm sure) hands and try an at-home procedure, so I agreed to schedule the surgery. (I do not agree with this plan of action necessarily - the kids get their gigantic tonsils from me and I still have mine, plus I'm certain that there is an equally effective homeopathic treatment should a problem arise)
They were running a 2-for-1 tonsellectomy special at the hospital this month so we thought we'd go ahead and get the two older kids taken care of.
They didn't seem to be too concerned about their surgery, it probably helped that they had each other. Also, we had been discussing getting Avery's tonsils out for over a year now so she was prepared. The trip to the grocery store the day before didn't hurt either. We came home with every manner of frozon confection and then some. Bomb Pops, Klondike bars, Push-ups, Fudgecicles, slow-melt Ice-Age popsicles, 5 flavors of Dreyers Real Fruit bars (coconut are our current favorite), Fat Boys, gelato and just some plain ol' ice cream. Fortunately, we have two freezers.
Day of surgery
On the way to the O.R.
Avery takes up prime real estate in the waiting room.
You won't be smiling for long...
Perioperative Bomb-Pop. This is after the screaming and the parental abuse (hitting his parents) subsided. Ben was not the surgeon for this procedure, he just got to play dad.
"I said, Don't touch me". A warning given to mom, dad and her nurses and anyone who dare try to comfort her. This one is punctuated by a kick.
The kids are lucky that their dad shared his popscicles with them at all.
Coming out of anethesia was devestating as a parent. It was so sad. They both tried to rip the IV out of their hands and both said that they didn't want their tonsils out after all. Miles requested that his be put back in. The next few days were bliss as they slept a lot and couldn't really speak, and when they did it was meekly. Avery was considerably nicer (not that she's not nice) and helpful with Cruz even when she was recovering. Ben said it's like castrating a dog - it takes the fight out of them. I thought for a while that maybe they had actually performed a lobotomy. But, while her voice is slightly different - not quite as husky, a bit more high pitched and raspy now - the old confident, bossy to her brother Avery is back after a few weeks. Miles may never forgive us, but he sure liked eating a dozen popsicles every day. Neither one of them wanted any medicine in the days following which was a surprise given that they always love to try and find an excuse to take Tylenol otherwise. What was not a surprise given that we were warned by
a friend who had just recently experienced this - was the most horrific dragon breath the kids had. But I guess rotting, cauterized tissue smells pretty awful. With both kids in the back seat we would have to roll the windows down for fresh air for at least 10 days after.
I'm glad that it's all over, I hope that it provides some kind of benefit to them in their lifetime and I hope Cruz doesn't need his removed.
*Really the kids have problems sleeping - mouths open, snoring etc.
