Going in to the surgery, the kids had asked the doctor to let them know who had the biggest tonsils. Because at 10-years old, every thing is a competition. Including the size of your tonsils.
Following the surgery, we were informed that Carolyn "won" and had the larger of the two tonsils and adenoids. Not just in our family, but in all of 2015. Our good doctor was very impressed at the size of her adenoid tissue, and said it was some of the largest he had ever seen. Upon hearing that, whatever questions or concerns I'd had about subjecting our children to this procedure, were immediately eradicated. I so love it when we make good parenting choices!
The doctor told us, "Your children are going to be totally different kids; they can now breathe and will feel so, so much better!" He also told us that if we had any questions or concerns, we could call his office ... or just walk over and knock on his door.
(Because he only lives two houses away from us.)
A few things I want to remember about the day include Carolyn, feeling so concerned and breaking down in to tears when we began to get her ready for the surgery ... which made me break down in tears. The nurse started her IV and administered something I cannot even recall (I'm sure one of my pharmacist sisters would know), to take the edge off.
Within mere seconds, my daughter had a dreamy look in her eyes, and slowly lifting her bandaged IV hand, gently whispered, "Little hand, I'm so very sorry they did that to you. You are a good little handy hand and I love you." Then she kissed her hand.
The nurse standing near her chuckled and asked, "Carolyn, what is your hand's name?" And my daughter looked at her as if she grew two heads and said, "HAAAAAND."
Then she gave her a smirk and said, "Silly nurse!" Then she stared at her for a long moment and asked, "Why do you have two heads?"
Other things to remember about this event, include the sequence of them coming out of surgery, Carolyn first, followed shortly thereafter by William. Carolyn insisted on seeing her brother, and wanted the recovery room curtain open so she could have him in her sights.
There were notes, traded between my two groggy children in the recovery room.
The car ride home, with William asleep on his sister's arm.
The domestic recovery room (aka: family room), with the two of them snuggled next to each other with note pads for communication, and glasses full of ice chips and water. Note Charlie asleep on the couch, too. Major surgery (on others!) totally takes it out of my Guy.
Jello and Ice cream. Thankfully, Blue Bell is back on the shelves this very week. Kismet!
The key to the game right now is pain management, so I'm ensuring that we've got our clocks set and am administering the appropriate medication every six hours, on the dot.
The only hiccup has been the movies that they're watching. William is 100% Marvel superheroes - all day, every day. Whereas, Carolyn enjoys a good strong feminine heroine movie now and again.
William is not too keen on watching Pride and Prejudice, but he'd totally do it for his sister.