I’m writing this lengthy post for three main reasons:

1. Prior to having my tonsillectomy almost a month ago, I scoured the internet for blogs/videos about adults who got their tonsils out. The first thing people tell you (as an adult) when you’re about to have this surgery is how bad the recovery is - and despite what I read, and what I was told my by doctor, I didn’t fully grasp just how bad it actually would be. So I wanted to put it into my own words.

2. Social media is a highlight reel. I try to be as transparent as possible because I know how easy it is to make it seem like everything is sunshine and daisies all the time. While I posted on Instagram and Pinterest frequently while I was recovering, it doesn’t mean I wasn’t in pain. Honestly, it was the opposite. I was bored out of my mind, needed something to distract me from how much I was hurting, and cannot stress this enough- I was so unbelievably bored. Yes, I went to Disney World exactly 2 weeks after I had my tonsils out - because I’d lose too much money if we cancelled the trip, and realistically, I should’ve been fine by then - but doesn’t mean I was recovered (and actually, I wasn’t, but more on that later).

3. I got questions about the surgery/how I knew I needed it/what it’s really like as an adult/was it worth it. I want to answer them all in one place.

So let’s talk about it.

THE CONSULT

To address the “how did you know you needed one" question: I woke up with a sore throat/just generally not feeling well more often than not for several months. I’ve had strep before and knew what it felt like, and a quite a few times this year, I felt like I had it. Despite having the symptoms of strep, all of my tests came back negative, but my tonsils were inflamed, and occasionally, I had an ear infection. It took a turn in September when I got hit with a severe sore throat completely out of nowhere, and after heading to a clinic, I was told that if I got another sore throat in the next 30 days, I’d need to seriously consider getting my tonsils out.

I met with an ENT, who took a look at my tonsils, listened to my history, and easily concluded that I had chronic tonsillitis. He told me I essentially had two options: the water/hydrogen peroxide gargle for an indefinite amount of time, or get my tonsils out. Tired of dealing with constant sore throats, I chose to just get them taken out and put an end to this, and he agreed that it made the most sense - not wanting to wait until I got any older.

THE PROCEDURE

I remember nothing. My mom took me to the surgery center early Wednesday morning. I signed some more paperwork, changed into a hospital gown, got an IV in, my mom asked my surgeon a few questions, the procedure was explained to us both again, and the anesthesiologist came back to talk to me. They gave me a sedative, I was wheeled back to the OR, was moved from my bed to the table, where the anesthesiologist told me he was about to put the medicine in. I saw it go in, and then I woke about an hour and a half later in the recovery room. I was groggy and exhausted, but for the most part felt nothing, other than that it felt weird to talk, and I had to really make an effort to swallow. They gave me ice chips and squeezable applesauce, and kept me there for about another 2 hours. In the interim, my mom picked up my pain medications, steroid pack, nausea pills, and numbing lollipops.

THE RECOVERY

In a nutshell:

• I could barely eat. By the end of it all, I lost 10 pounds.

• I would wake up in the middle of the night because the pain was so bad when the meds wore off in my sleep, and I’d drag myself to the bathroom for the next dose. Which hurt.

• When they say rest, they mean rest.

• I still have earaches.

• I didn’t heal properly, and I have another follow-up this week. It’s been a month since surgery.

• I absolutely do not regret this, and would do it again if it meant I didn’t have to do it at an older age.

From the get-go, I was told that days 3-8 would be the worst. I was also told how important it was to rest, stay hydrated, and do absolutely nothing. So when I got home after surgery, I took a quick shower (supervised, because I was super unsteady on my feet), changed into some PJs, and got in bed. For the most part, I felt okay, just tired, dizzy, and nauseous from the anesthesia. They said it would wear off the next morning. I watched Christmas movies in bed, napped a lot, and took the medications as scheduled. They’d given me an ice collar to wear as needed over the next 48 hours, and I swore by it for relief. Turning my head to the side hurt a lot, too. More of the same the next day, just quite a bit more pain. I was able to eat squeezable applesauce (opening my mouth wide enough for a spoon was really painful), and 1 room temperature, unseasoned, scrambled egg. But then Friday rolled around.

Friday was day 2 post-op, and things were really starting to get uncomfortable. I still had an extremely hoarse voice, and it was very painful to talk, but with the medication, I managed. For the most part, I just texted my parents or Don if I needed something, or if we were trying to communicate.

I was warned about ear pain, but didn’t actually understand how bad it would be. I was told it would hurt to swallow water, but didn’t realize it would feel like swallowing glass shards. They tried to tell me all of this, but I didn’t think it would be that bad. I think Friday was the first time I cried. We alternated between a heating pad and ice packs around my neck, jaw, and ears throughout the day. By Friday I was supposed to be able to eat soft foods like overcooked pasta, but I could barely tolerate one egg. Taking the liquid pain medication by syringe made me feel like my throat was burning, but I was in too much pain without it. Since it was dosed every 8 hours, I’d wake up in agonizing pain once in the middle of the night to take the next dose, and then wait for it to kick in and let me sleep again. I also was instructed to sleep propped up, and as a notorious tosser while I sleep, sleeping upright did not make me happy.

Side note, people warn you how gross the scabs are, but seriously…they’re terrible. And very, very uncomfortable when they come in and again when they fall off. I constantly felt like I had a pebble lodged in my throat. Also I would get little nosebleeds when I blew my nose, and coughed/sneezed blood a few times. It was all expected, but it wasn’t cute.

Saturday was day 3 post-op, and that’s when everything got infinitely worse. I was able to eat a little more, like overcooked, unseasoned, room temperature pasta, but that was the only real highlight. I wasn’t drinking enough water because it hurt a ridiculous amount, the ear pain was worse than I ever thought it would be, my balance was totally off, and while I was warned that it would feel like the worst sore throat ever, it somehow was even more painful than I could have imagined. My neck was visibly swollen, I felt like I’d been punched in the throat (and face, really), and the second the pain medications wore off (about an hour before I was due for the next dose), all I wanted to do was cry, and I did. The ice/heat rotation made me feel better, but in reality wasn’t really doing anything. So I just stayed in bed, getting up only to shower, gently brush my teeth, use the bathroom, and walk in the hallway every so often when sitting became too uncomfortable.

Sunday, I ventured out of the house with my parents for the first time since Wednesday, and honestly, I quickly understood why I was told to rest. I was exhausted from the simple act of riding in a car. Everything hurt, I was nauseated, and just generally felt awful. I still didn’t have my voice back, and talking was becoming even more painful. We’d been visiting family, and while my relatives were encouraging, if not coddling, my grammie took my face into her hands, kissed me on the cheeks, looked at me and said “Are you really okay? You look so tired. And weak.” And man was she right. As soon as I got back home, I basically collapsed into bed and slept for about 4-5 hours.

The same held true for the rest of the week. Though my voice came back, it still hurt to talk for more than a few minutes at a time, and every now and then, I’d feel a sharp pain that made me either yelp mid-sentence, or just stop talking altogether. My mom or dad would make me an egg every morning, then bring up applesauce or pasta throughout the day. On days when I felt up to it, I’d go downstairs and get it myself, and one day I actually made my own eggs, but couldn’t finish two of them, and had to go back upstairs to lay down. Once I finished the pain medications on Wednesday and started liquid ibuprofen, sleeping through the night got even more difficult. I was able to drink more water, mentally powering through it, but it wasn’t actually physically easier. Have you ever cried while trying to drink a glass of water? It’s wild. But I felt so accomplished when I managed to finish a cup. I stayed distracted with movies, social media, crosswords, and books, but the truth was I felt terrible. I wasn’t really allowed to leave my bed still based on how I was feeling, and while I made a few trips downstairs every now and then, that made me feel exhausted.

Mentally, I was going through it. But I had to power through to do things like drink water, take a walk across the hall, remember to swallow - basic things that I thought would be a cake walk during this recovery, but I felt so proud of every little step in the right direction.

I’d missed milestones for my recovery, and honestly thought that I was just being a baby about it. I should’ve been further along with my progress, and I was sad and frustrated that I wasn’t. My earaches weren’t improving, things like yawning, burping, sneezing, and coughing worsened the pain so much, and I just generally wasn’t feeling well. And then I had my follow-up. Two days before my Disney World trip.

My doctor asked me about foods I could tolerate (still just the one egg, applesauce, and pasta), how much pain I was in, and if I’d had any fevers (no, but I couldn’t regulate my temperature - always too hot or too cold, inappropriately). He took one look at my throat, and said “well I see why you’re in so much pain.” Turns out, for whatever reason, without getting too much into it - I truly wasn’t healing properly (let’s just leave it at my body was making excessive scabs where they shouldn’t be, and not making them where they were supposed to be). While I was upset to hear it, I was honestly relieved to know that I wasn’t just being wimpy about things, there was an actual reason why I was feeling this way. He reluctantly started me on another course of steroids, a decongestant to help with my ear pain (especially since I was about to fly to Florida). He then sat me down to talk about restrictions for my trip (no roller coasters, if I felt tired, I needed to go lay down right away, stick to the soft food diet I’d been on, walk or ideally just don’t do the 5K that I’d already paid for). The next day, my ear pain got so bad at work that I actually just couldn’t hear out of one ear all day, and had to listen to my voice echoing inside my head when I spoke. Going on this trip the next day was looking less and less desirable.

TRAVELING

There’s a two week travel restriction after this surgery, and I was leaving exactly two weeks after the procedure. I took my medications exactly as I was supposed to, numbed my throat before I ate, stayed hydrated, and took it fairly easy. In reality, I was feeling better. I still had ear pain, a constant sore throat, but mentally, I was doing better. We stopped by Publix to get applesauce, water, and protein drinks so that I had something I could stomach in the hotel room/snacks for the parks. I was able to swallow ibuprofen tablets instead of using the liquid, so I made sure to keep up with that as needed. I tried to get 8 hours of sleep each night, and overall, I did as fine as I could until Sunday, the day before we left. I hadn’t been feeling well all day, having woken up with a headache and more pain than before. Halfway through the day, my neck was swollen again, hurt to the touch, and we ultimately had to swing by a gift shop to get some Advil, since I didn’t have any on me. Once it kicked in, I felt better, but was exhausted all the way through Tuesday.

So don’t let the pretty pictures fool you, I looked fine, and mentally I was feeling good - happy, even. But I was on medications, had to numb my throat multiple times daily, I once took a bite of a dill pickle and it felt like swallowing a knife, and as for how I look in social media pictures from this trip - I quite literally just learned to grin and bear it.

(ALMOST) A MONTH LATER

This week will mark 4 weeks since surgery, and I still have to go to another follow up. I can eat and drink basically anything now, but my ears still hurt, I need to numb my throat before eating sometimes, and my throat still hurts, especially when I yawn. While obviously, I didn’t heal right, I’m still glad I got the surgery. How I can describe it now is like a bruise. You know when you have a bruise and you touch it? That’s the sensation I have in my throat right now. I can talk, but it still takes a lot out of me to talk for more than a brief conversation. I can do it, but then I need a nap.

I just wish I had these symptoms as a kid so this recovery wouldn’t have been as bad. But in all honesty, I’m glad I didn’t wait any longer to get it done. Bye forever, tonsillitis. You will not be missed.