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Hi. I'm 47 and I am on day 19 after my tonsillectomy torture. Oh my goodness! My tonsils were bad. My surgeon said my tonsils and the tissue behind them were so full of pus that she had a hard time getting them out...they kept breaking up like jello! Allergic to codeine, so lucky me, I had to make it on Children's Tylenol instead....can you imagine? But it was for the best, less side affects. So you know I had to go HARD on natural remedies. I say to anyone, do it if you need your tonsils out. It will be tough, but the best thing you can do is WATER, ICE COLD WATER and lots of it, even when it hurts. My surgeon told me to keep it moist and keep it cold back there(in my throat). Popsicles were the best (for me) to help with the swelling and aching tongue, especially when you get around days 5-7 and it's harder to drink water. It will get almost impossible but still drink it! As much as you can and the popsicles help keep you hydrated. I used ice packs and made a collar for my neck and a pad for my ear. I had no appetite until day i ate cooled off ramen noodles. Day 10 the scabs were off and this part HURT! Day 11 when i went to see the surgeon she was amazed at my recovery. I only did what I'm sharing with you all. I was put back on a regular diet (easy does it!) and being able to take ibuprofin at that point was a blessing. After day 10 you will still experience pain, but each day it gets better. Blessings and stay strong


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Health Ace
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I had mine out on the first Saturday of spring vacation in the fifth grade which also encompassed my 10th birthday. Happy birthday to me!!! When I got to the hospital it looked like my whole class was there but one lucky guy got to go home because he had a cold. Ether was their choice for the first part of the torture. They clamped that foul rubber thing over my face and I felt like I was being smothered with something that was burning my nose, mouth, throat and lungs. They told me to count backwards from 100 which I was not about to do, I was so pissed at them. Then someone asked "are you out yet?" and I replied "YES", anything to get them to take that dam mask off me.

Then I awoke with a terrible headache which I learned years later was a hangover as ether is alcohol without the water. I was also unable to focus my eyes to read the numbers on the open door to my room which bothered me at a level I don't think anyone could understand. I experienced that once before when an eye doctor put some drops in my eyes and I never let them take me to an eye doc again until I was old enough to physically prevent the doctor from doing that. I learned that parents lie like hell to little kids to get them to do what they want and I never allowed myself to be victimized like that again.

The nurse brought me ice cream and said to let it melt and trickle down my throat. I soon learned why she didn't say swallow. After I went home my diet was ice cream, apple juice, prune juice, moving up to jello, apple sauce and pudding. Ice cream was my favorite because it was soothing to swallow. I guess because back in 1950 it actually had cream in it. They hadn't invented the no calorie diet c**p of today. My tongue hurt for a while from the clamp they used to hold it out of the way. It just got better from there until I went back to school. By that time I was actually able to speak again, albeit softly. The 5th grade is where they bring on the instruments so you can bug your parents to buy you the one you think would be fun to play. They had been torturing me with piano lessons for several years at home so I chose the trumpet with the promise they would let me quit the piano. My father seemed to actually like the idea. I found out years later that he had played the bugle in the local American Legion drum corps during the 20s, 30s, and 40s. They had serious yearly national competitions in Miami, Chicago and Weirs Beach NH. If they had TV back then that would have been televised like the World Series is today.

Well my first trumpet lesson after the throat cutting came along and I discovered I couldn't blow a single note after recently having begun to master that piece of bent tubing. It seemed that the missing adenoids wouldn't allow me to close off my nose and all the air was escaping. By 6th grade I was playing in the junior high marching band and was invited to play with the senior high football band and the tonsil torture was just a bad memory.