I take care of kids post-tonsillectomy all the time, so I know the recovery is tough, but I guess I didn’t realize just how tough it really is. About five years ago, they stopped giving kids narcotic pain medications for this surgery, and for most surgeries outside of the hospital, due to too many accidents with accidental overdoses. Poor communication from parents, accidents, or kids getting into the medications were big concerns. I understand why they only give kids Tylenol and Ibuprofen, but it still makes for a rough recovery.
In the beginning, the first two days weren’t too bad. She was doing a good job eating, drinking, and taking her meds. But as the week went on, especially between days 5 and 7 (which we know are the hardest), it got worse. One day, I came home from work and collapsed on the couch. Emmy came and laid on top of me, crying, saying, “Please take me to the doctor. This is not okay. I need to go to the doctor.” It broke my heart because she truly thought we weren’t doing enough to take care of her.
The next day, I called a nurse I used to work with in GI, who is now the PA for Dr. Robinson (who did her surgery). She saved the day by ordering steroids and tetracaine lollipops. The steroid dosage was too much to put in liquid form, so we went with pills. Emmy can’t swallow pills on a good day, so I had to crush them and try to dissolve them in something she’d take. Steroids are incredibly bitter, so it was tough to get her to take them. It turned into an hour-long discussion and begging session, trying to convince her they would help while she cried that she couldn’t do it. Finally, she took it. The good news is, we only have three more days of this.
When Caleb came home and saw wax paper with white powder crushed into it, I think he was questioning if we were now dealing drugs out of the house! As for the tetracaine lollipops, I was hopeful they’d work. We had to pick them up at the compounding pharmacy, where they make them according to her weight and the prescribed dosage. I went to pick them up, and we got two lollipops for $40. To make it even better, when I tried to give one to her, she said they looked gross and refused to try it.
Great. Perfect. We’re all ready for her to start feeling better!
Now every time I take care of a kid that is having their tonsils out, I want to say, "Run run away and don't do this"!
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