Date-Rape Tonsillectomy

Yesterday I was privileged to take part in an age-old ritual that has been the bane of teenage existence everywhere: a Tonsillectomy. While the experience was not one that I care to repeat anytime soon, an experience it was, none-the-less.

I'm more disappointed that I can't use my birthday presents I received last week.

Birthday Booze - Wine, Champagne, Beer, Disaronno, Tequila, Vodka, Kahlua

I have to say in hindsight, the worst part was the waiting. Not so much the reading-magazines-in-the-waiting-room kind of waiting, but the laying on the hospital cart with my bare-butt hospital gown waiting for someone to come stick me with needles kind of waiting.

As I walked into the prep room, a man with no neck nonchalantly told me to take off my clothes so they can give me "relaxing drugs." Thankfully he never looked up from his clipboard, instead flipping absentmindedly through my information with pursed lips. If he had paid more attention to me he would have seen the incredulous look on my face that made an obvious connection with his hospital instructions and several forms of date-rape.

After I changed into the fashionable hospital gown (which i stole) and comfy booties (which I stole) I grabbed a few warm blankets (which i stole) and clenched my teeth to watch the IV needle snake under the skin on the back of my hand like those alien plants in The Ruins.

After more waiting, the anesthesiologist came into yell at me since I wouldn't take out my 6 cartilage earrings, bellybutton piercing, and industrial piercing. She got to me through her gruesome stories of the burns patients received from the sparks the surgery equipment made with patients' jewelry. I finally complied. She was scary, and much larger than me.

Then the time came. The worst part of being wheeled into surgery was that they took my glasses. While this may sound like a mundane request to most, it's slightly terrifying not being able to see the details of the glinting steel contraptions on every wall. Not knowing what the huge green tubes are meant for hanging over you, or where they intend to put them for that matter.

As the anesthesiologist told me the brown liquid she was injecting into my IV tube "might sting a little" I felt a strange connection the the convicted felons on death row. The liquid burned into my veins and, with the unfailing knowledge that my hand was most certainly on fire, I could only think -- "hmmm, this must be what it feels like to be euthanized." I also wondered vaugley why I hadn't fallen asleep yet. That is, until they gave me the oxygen mask.

I didn't know I had fallen asleep until I saw the hostpital lights whooshing past me above my head as they wheeled me into the recovery room. I'll admit, I had no idea where I was. They told me I kept calling for my boyfriend -- I was sure he was there when he was actually painting my Dad's condo. I didn't believe them. Finally someone told me that I was in the hospital and just had my tonsils out. Ahh, now I remember, why didn't someone tell me before.

Haha, and apparrently I was slightly obnoxious because the nurse told the recovery room orderly that I was "very anxious to get [my] glasses". Soon after they gave me some narcotic and more date-rape -- er, I mean "relaxing" drugs, my Mom came in, and like the goddess she is, gave my glasses.

Honestly I felt fine besides a sore throat. I even when to Super H Mart, a local asian market, to buy cold soba noodles for later. (I didn't drive, don't worry). They told me that days 3 - 5 would be the worst. Today is day 2, and I am not enjoying whatever pieces of my throat keep falling down in the back of my mouth to gag me. I'm glad I ate those noodles yesterday because today is definitely apple juice and jello day.

If anything, now I certainly know my name, birth date, and the name of my surgery since the orderlies and nurses ask every time they walk into the room. To be fair, Edwards Hospital was incredible. Everyone was friendly, thourough, and gave me their full attention while they dictated instructions and listened to my questions. That is, everyone except for Mr. Date-Rape Man at the beginning. I won't blame him though, he looked a little slow and apparently needed to concentrate very hard on what he was reading.

I would reccomend Edwards Hospital to anyone in need of surgery (or any procedure for that matter). Oh, and they give you juice and ice cream -- score!

P.S. - My birthday party was fun. 40 stories up in an empty condo playing beer pong and being wind-whipped on the huge balcony.

I don't know where everyone else was -- probably smoking on the balcony