Tonsils

In some ways, I have to say that our kids are inheriting a pretty awesome genetic jackpot; Steve and I both have glasses and have had braces, and we've tried to save up to make sure that our kids will be able to have those opportunities, as well.  We've also both had our appendixes out (and don't think that I don't have a little panic attack any time my kid complains of sharp abdominal pain), but other than that, we're a relatively healthy couple!

Except for one thing: I was born with huge tonsils, and although they had bothered me for years, getting strep and tonsillitis several times every winter, I finally got them out the year after Jack was born.  One of the most painful experiences of my life.

Knowing that tonsils are better taken out with young kids has made me a little more hyper-vigilant about checking my own children's tonsils; Jack is fine (inherited Steve's normal-sized tonsils, phew!), but Clark had to have his out at age three.

For a while now, we've known that Maggie also has to have hers out, and so yesterday we decided to bite the bullet and take our four-year-old girl in for a tonsillectomy. 
She was so cheerful and brave; we took lots of pictures and played lots of games while in the waiting room, and I tried not to cry as I thought of how awful it was going to be for her to wake up.
She got lots of compliments on what a sweet girl she was from the staff:
And lived up to those pretty well.  I was pretty proud of how well-behaved she was, but the whole time I had images of what it was like when Clark woke up (there was dried blood around his mouth and even on the sheets and pillow cases; apparently redheads bleed a lot).  He was bawling and miserable, and the next few days were absolute torture for everyone.  

I had that all in my head, and was grateful when the doctor came in and gave Maggie his personal cell phone with a movie on it for her to watch:
after which they rolled her out and Steve and I went out to the waiting room to try not to panic.  We waited for nearly an hour, after which they brought us back in to see our beautiful sleeping girl:
Who did (and is still doing) AMAZING.  I'm shocked; she woke up after a while, and although she was a bit groggy for a while, she cheerfully ate a popsicle and then came home with us.


All day long I waited for the good pain meds to wear off and her to start feeling miserable, but although she was a little more emotional than usual when things didn't go her way (she was jealous her brothers got to eat real food when she was feeling sick of liquids), she has been a trooper!  Aside from me waking her once in the middle of the night to give her a cup of water and some Tylenol, she slept great, and today has been a good day full of good movies, pajamas, and Jello.


Knowing that it can go this smoothly helps me feel so much better about choosing to move forward with such a big procedure now.  And I can't wait to see how it affects her later on!

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