At the beginning of January, Miss Eliza decided to trade in her tonsils for endless amounts of Popsicles and blue Gatorade. While her tonsils weren't causing her to be extra sick, they were so large that they were interfering with her sleep (which in turn was interfering with her parent's sleep) and causing her to choke quite often when eating or drinking. Based on the recommendations of our family physician, the ENT, and friends whose children had experienced similar symptoms, we decided to take the plunge and get them removed while she was still young.
In the days leading up to the surgery, I was very nervous that we were going to be putting her through all of this for nothing. I didn't want to put her under anesthesia and make her suffer through recovery if this wasn't actually going to help anything. But as the day of surgery came closer, I began to feel more peace about the situation and we decided to go through with it.
My sweet mom drove from Utah the evening before so she could help with Ivy and getting Stella to and from school while we were at the hospital with Eliza. We scheduled the procedure over one of Ryan's long weekends so that he could be around and could help with the emotional stability of all parties involved.
We arrived at the hospital at 8:30 am and were immediately taken back to get ready. It was obvious Liza was feeling a little nervous, but she was very brave during the entire process. She looked too cute in her little hospital get-up, and had fun introducing the medical staff to her lovely Aurora doll and decorating her anesthesia mask with stickers of her favorite princesses.
I was so impressed with all of the hospital staff, and how comfortable they made us all feel, especially Eliza. Around 10:00 am she was wheeled out of the room for surgery, and the doctor was back in telling us all went well only 25 minutes later.
Coming out of anesthesia was probably the hardest part of the whole process for her. That feeling really isn't fun for anyone, but especially sweet four-year-olds who just want their mama. I was able to go back and hop right in the bed with her. I wasn't mad about that part.
We spent the next hour and a half getting her calmed down enough to take some pain medication and start drinking some fluids, but as soon as that happened it was time to go home.
We made it home before Stella was even dropped off from school, and Grandma Joni had a nice spot ready on the couch, complete with a bag of fun activities and the Popsicle of her choice.
Most people told us to expect day one and two to go fairly well, but that the following days would get progressively more difficult. Well, for Eliza that defiantly held true for days one and two--all she wanted to do was play with Stella and eat some french fries. And while we sat back and continued to wait for the worst to hit, this little lady did so amazing with recovery. While we certainly took it easy and it was obvious she was a bit more lethargic than normal, she did great eating and drinking and honestly only told me her throat was bothering her five times over the course of her entire recovery. She even slept well at night, and just had a really great attitude about it all. I have no idea why that was the case for her, but I am so grateful that she didn't seem to be suffering too much. What a tough cookie!
Our only major issue during the recovery process was exactly one week post-op. As the throat heals, scabs form and eventually fall off, which we were told could cause a small amount of bleeding, but shouldn't be a big deal. On the Friday following the surgery we had spent the evening having a family movie night with the girls, and got them into bed fairly late. They were tired and both feel asleep quickly, but after twenty minutes we heard Eliza coughing and crying. Ryan went in to check on her and called me in after noticing some bleeding. I wasn't worried at first, because I knew a little bit of bleeding could be part of the process, but after we stood her up it was obvious that this was not a small amount of blood. We got her into the bathroom and standing over the toilet, where bright red blood proceeded to fall from her mouth for several minutes. I have never seen so much blood in my entire life, and the fact that I was watching my hands, clothes and bathroom become covered in my sweet daughter's blood was starting to be too much to handle. It finally seemed to stop long enough that we got her cleaned up and Ryan rushed her across the street to the ER. We were worried they would have to go back in and cauterize things, but thankfully it began to clot on it's own and everything ended up being just fine. But man, it was scary for a minute. Later, even Ryan admitted he was scared and was trying to decide if calling 911 or driving her to the ER himself would be the better solution. And if Ryan is panicking (even if it's only on the inside), there was obviously something to worry about.
We sent a quick text out to our families to keep E in their prayers, and I spent the next hour cleaning up what felt like a crime scene in my bathroom. Eliza was so sleepy during the whole ordeal, that she didn't even remember it happening the next morning. Thank goodness someone can forget about it.
So while a tonsillectomy is never fun, I think we probably ended up with the best situation we could. Lots of friends and family checking in with phone calls and dropping off treats and balloons, and a strong, happy girl who is two tonsils short and no worse for the wear.
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