just what the doctor ordered: a little t & a

Well, what a morning.  We let Jade sleep in a bit, but as soon as she woke she remembered it was to be "the worst day of [her] liiiiiiife!"  That's because she was scheduled for a tonsillectomy & adenoidectomy.  She's been dreading this for several weeks now, peppering us with all manner of questions about what was involved and how much pain she could expect. 

Jade's the kind of kid who needs more information, not less, in order to best deal with the unknown.  Last week we took a tour of the surgery center so that she could get an idea of where pre-op would be, what the color scheme was, what the beds looked like, where the television was located in relation to the bed, who the nurses are, etc.  She asked the nurse numerous questions about surgery day, and at some point I could see that the poor woman regretted asking her insincerely, "Do you have any questions?"

Jade's biggest concerns had to do with being under anesthesia.  What was it like? What does it do to your brain? Why will she not remember anything? Isn't that weird/scary/freaky to be in that state? What if she didn't wake up? You can't really brush her off with roundabout answers or lies because she's like a little chihuahua that takes hold and doesn't let go until she has gotten what she's after. So last night when the anesthesiologist called with instructions and asked whether I had any questions I said, "No, but my daughter sure does.  I'll put her on."  Jade proceeded to interrogate the fellow for ten minutes.  He was very patient and, apparently, honest with her.  He told me that he was pleased we had talked to her about the surgery and anesthesia because most parents are afraid to do so with their kids, and the kids end up even more scared.

This morning Jade cried on the way to the surgery center and in the waiting room, occasionally trying to take deep relaxing breaths.  Still, there was no getting around the fact that she was anxious and very scared.  When we got into pre-op we found that a no-nonsense, slightly militant nurse would be "caring" for her.  Oh, great. That's precisely the kind of medical personnel with whom Jade is most likely to clash when she is scared.  Why do these people think that being harsh and dictatorial is the best way to get a terrified kid to cooperate? Have they no pride in their work? At least nurse Beatrice had the good sense to get Jade a cup of the Memory-Erasing Drowsy Juice early on.  The magical cocktail was to make Jade not remember anything that would happen between the time she drank it and when she woke up after the operation.  And it was fast-acting.  One minute she was crying that she was scared, the next she was telling me she felt a little dizzy, and the next she shot up out of bed and yelled, "Sponge Bob! Spo....Baahhhh...ZZZZZZZZZZZZ! [snore!]" Then they wheeled her away.

Unlike in the old days (or as recently as a few years ago) Jade's T & A was performed using Coblation, a fairly recent procedure that basically dissolves the tonsils and adenoids using radiowaves and a saline solution.  ZAP!  Apparently the damage to surrounding tissue and the potential for post-operative bleeding are significantly decreased and overall recovery is much easier compared to the standard cutting or torching procedures.  The only downside is that Jade didn't have any tonsils to take home in a jar. (I still remember when I was a kid, going to Bethy Williams' house after she returned home from the hospital with her tonsils in a jar.  They were so cool! I couldn't believe they came out of her mouth. Perhaps that is when I first developed my fascination with bodily innerds.)

Jade's surgery went very quickly--so quickly that I didn't even make it through one chapter of Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell.  (How will I ever fulfill my promise to myself to finish that by December 31, 2006?) The doctor said everything went well, that Jade's "meatballs" (as he referred to her gigantic tonsillar monsters) came out without incident and that her adenoids were HUGE.  HUGE.  This, I think, better explains why, for the past two years, Jade has been propping herself up when she sleeps.  And all this time I thought it was because she just wanted to be like Thomas Jefferson.

After the surgery, the anesthesiologist told us we could see Jade in the recovery room.  He said that she might wake up "a little disoriented and crying."  Before we went in, a nurse standing outside Jade's room warned that when kids come out of general anesthesia they are usually very upset, and that this lasts until they are 21.  "You mean we've got thirteen more years of this?" Bell asked.  (She didn't get it.) And "this" turned out to be a Jade I'd never seen.  She was kicking and fighting and trying to rip out her IV line.  She was babbling incoherently, tearing away the oxygen mask. She was trying to climb out of bed and escape. It took three nurses to restrain her.  Granted, they were teeny little Filipina nurses, but still.  I'm a strong little Filipina and even I was amazed by Jade's superhuman strength.  It was pretty scary to see her like that.  Remind me not to let her use crack.

(The only other time I've seen a patient come out of general anesthesia was many years ago after Bell had shoulder surgery.  Since it was an outpatient procedure, he and I both figured that he could just walk out of there and take the Metro home. While he checked in for surgery, I went off to work.  It was there that I learned from a colleague that Bell would be in no condition to ride public transportation, much less find his way home, so I cut out of work early and drove to the surgery center.  There, I found him lying on a guerney with his fly open, babbling incoherently about god-knows-what. He was not unlike many I've seen riding the D.C. Metro, in fact.  Having never seen him really drunk, I found it all a little bit funny--and more so in retrospect--at least until he vomited out the car window.)

The nurse gave Jade some special calming medication, which knocked her out. When she awoke again she asked when they were going to take her tonsils out.  Ah, the Memory-Erasing Drowsy Juice had worked as advertised.  After four hours, we got to go home. 

All is well.  Jade's had ice cream, pudding, popsicles, and more pudding. She's been watching cartoons all day, receiving well wishes from friends and family, and overall loving the life of a recovering patient.  As for me, I'm looking forward to no longer being awakened by Jade's ear-blasting snores, snores with the power to penetrate closed doors.  But most of all, I'm hoping the kid can finally get a good night's sleep.

Comments

[Glen]

That's weird. I've been under general anaesthesia twice, both times when I was 16, and I don't recall having any kind of bad reaction either time.

If Jade complains at all about how her T&A was performed, give her a copy of Roald Dahl's autobiographical book "Boy" to read. Dahl describes how his own T&A was performed -- with no warning and no anaesthesia, just a couple of quick swipes with a scalpel followed by a gush of blood and pile of innards falling out of his mouth.

[dgm]

dunno. maybe some people are more sensitive to anesthesia (i refuse to accept your british spaelling). it was weird to see jade in such a state. now i know why cops have to tazer people on crack.

i've never had my tonsils out, but most adults i talk to about it recall very vivid memories of the pain, the hospital stay, and the ice cream that followed. the new coblation procedure is amazing--jade seems to have only a little pain/discomfort, although we've been warned not to be fooled into thinking she can get up and run around a lot. i doubt she'll remember this experience as a big significant chapter in her childhood.

and yes, i note my incorrect spelling of "innerds."