That's right! I'm finally typing these words from the comfort of my own apartment.
It didn't look good at the beginning of the day.
My doctor came into my room around 9am.
He looked in my throat and pronounced I could leave 'tomorrow'.
I had REALLY been looking forward to escape. I went to bed the previous evening thinking, 'this is my last night here'. I had already packed.
So I dramatically flung myself across the hospital bed at his news.
"What?" he asks all innocently.
"I want to go home today!" I wrote down on my pad of paper.
"I want......tomorrow!" he giggled his way through the tricksy English. However, he seemed very firm in his opinion. He told me he would see me later in his department of the hospital for a more through examination.
Of course, it took him fifteen minutes for me to understand this...never forget, Ji-yeong is the ONLY one who can speak English here. Sometimes I might dialogue as if nurses and doctors are fluent, but they're not. I'm only bringing this up to give a clear sense of my situation. It can be frustrating in the best of circumstances to be ignorant of the local language. Being a tonsillectomy patient is another thing altogether! But the nurses and doctors are SO sweet about it. They always try SO hard to speak to me, and make me understand things. Even the cleaning lady, and the lady who brings me my disgusting, replusive dinners all try. It makes me think of how different the circumstances would be if I were a non-English-speaking Korean person in the Canadian hospital system. Would people be as patient? As polite? As willing to try and spend extra energy? I'd like to think so...but...
Anyway, tangent over...blame the drugs for excessive ramblings!
My lovely Ji-yeong came to my room around 10:00 (with two ciabatta sandwiches and four doughnuts for Antoine).
Ji-yeong had just got off a full 24 hour shift (9am-9am) of sitting in her chair, peering into microscopes. But she knew today was my check-out, so she just had to make sure I was ok. She is SERIOUSLY one of the most beautiful people I have ever met!
At 10:30, Ji-yeong and I went to the second floor to visit my doctor (this was my first time off the fifth floor since my surgery!). He looked in my throat again, brought out these WICKED long and sharp tweezer-like things and pronounced 'electro-cauterization' as he solemnly pointed the tweezers into my open mouth.
HOLD UP!!!
Of course I reacted like a two-year old. I violently twisted my head to one side and clamped my mouth shut.
"excuse me?"
"You have a little bit of bleeding!" (the poor man was so frustrated with me, I don't blame him) "this will stop it!" he says as he waves around his torture device.
"no thank you" (can you imagine?? No anasthesia? Just straight up 'electro-cauterizing' my scraped-raw throat? NO NO NO NO NO!!!)
"If you do it you can go home today!!"
"no no no"
"ok *rolls eyes* you can still go home today"
So here I am!!
He
Monday, August 10, 2009
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Day Five: I go for the gold!
Or rather, I actually go from 9am-9pm in between injections for the pain. And a good thing too...I can barely sit down anymore because my bum is so bruised (how does one little needle cause such torture?) Mind you, from 6pm on, I waited for my next needle with all of the intensity of a heroin addict waiting for his next fix. I gave up trying to swallow altogether, and my EARS!!! But I made it, and felt very accomplished for it.
Today they brought the usual mushy soy crap for breakfast, and I just couldn't do it. I couldn't swallow one more bite of horrid beige food supplement. I REEK of soy. It's the most unpleasent smell.
So when Nursetoine arrived, I BEGGED him to turn around and go home and make me some baby food. (boiled then blended potatoes and carrots, with just a touch of butter). And bless him, he actually did it.
I never thought that boiled, mushed carrots would ever bring me so much joy!
I spoke for the first time when one of the nurses asked me the age-old question, "where are you from?". It was only a one-word-croaked answer, (Canada) but still I feel slightly improved from day 4. This is the FIRST time since my operation that I can honestly say I feel better then the previous day.
I still have a LONG way to go. I still need to plug my nose and ears to swallow half the time. My throat and ears are still agony. I can't eat anything solid. I can't sleep for more then three hours at a time. I can't produce a full sentence.
BUT
At least it can only keep going up! (unless I lose too much scab at once, cause massive bleeding in my throat, and end up back in the ER) YAY!!
Today they brought the usual mushy soy crap for breakfast, and I just couldn't do it. I couldn't swallow one more bite of horrid beige food supplement. I REEK of soy. It's the most unpleasent smell.
So when Nursetoine arrived, I BEGGED him to turn around and go home and make me some baby food. (boiled then blended potatoes and carrots, with just a touch of butter). And bless him, he actually did it.
I never thought that boiled, mushed carrots would ever bring me so much joy!
I spoke for the first time when one of the nurses asked me the age-old question, "where are you from?". It was only a one-word-croaked answer, (Canada) but still I feel slightly improved from day 4. This is the FIRST time since my operation that I can honestly say I feel better then the previous day.
I still have a LONG way to go. I still need to plug my nose and ears to swallow half the time. My throat and ears are still agony. I can't eat anything solid. I can't sleep for more then three hours at a time. I can't produce a full sentence.
BUT
At least it can only keep going up! (unless I lose too much scab at once, cause massive bleeding in my throat, and end up back in the ER) YAY!!
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Day Four: The boring, painful day
Well, well,
as much as I promised I wouldn't write the kind of scary stories I read prior to MY tonsillectomy...I am not feeling particularily positive at the moment.
Days 1 and 2 went by so fast and pleasently. I know now that was entirely due to the drugs. Now I am taking a pain-killer intra-muscularly every 12 hours. Well, in THEORY every 12 hours anyway. In reality the most I've gone has been nine (then I'd cry and they'd stick me again).
Allright, I'm going to get it over with. Here's what hurts:
-My throat (obviously)
-My ears (the LESS my throat hurts, the MORE my ears hurt. My doctor told me it's because my brain is receiving pain signals but is confused by the painkiller. So it's sending pain signals to my EARS. And I can believe it, because they hurt the most when I swallow.
-My jaw (I don't know why, but I can't open my mouth wide, or stick out my tongue).
-My tongue (I suppose forceps or clamps were used to keep it out of the way during the operation)
-My back (from spending so much time in the same position)
-My butt (is all bruised from the injections I've been given)
Deserving honorable mentions in discomfort are:
-the rash I have all over my stomach, arms, and neck (it's not a GROSS rash, my skin is just red).
-The fact that everything tastes gross, and smells gross
-and the entire inside of my mouth is coated with slime, that won't go away no matter how often I brush my teeth.
Plus, while I am in more pain, I am also a lot more lucid. So time is going by much more slowly.
Tomorrow is (hopefully) my last full day in the hospital. My doctor said I'd be released Monday or Tuesday. I am REALLY hoping for Monday!
as much as I promised I wouldn't write the kind of scary stories I read prior to MY tonsillectomy...I am not feeling particularily positive at the moment.
Days 1 and 2 went by so fast and pleasently. I know now that was entirely due to the drugs. Now I am taking a pain-killer intra-muscularly every 12 hours. Well, in THEORY every 12 hours anyway. In reality the most I've gone has been nine (then I'd cry and they'd stick me again).
Allright, I'm going to get it over with. Here's what hurts:
-My throat (obviously)
-My ears (the LESS my throat hurts, the MORE my ears hurt. My doctor told me it's because my brain is receiving pain signals but is confused by the painkiller. So it's sending pain signals to my EARS. And I can believe it, because they hurt the most when I swallow.
-My jaw (I don't know why, but I can't open my mouth wide, or stick out my tongue).
-My tongue (I suppose forceps or clamps were used to keep it out of the way during the operation)
-My back (from spending so much time in the same position)
-My butt (is all bruised from the injections I've been given)
Deserving honorable mentions in discomfort are:
-the rash I have all over my stomach, arms, and neck (it's not a GROSS rash, my skin is just red).
-The fact that everything tastes gross, and smells gross
-and the entire inside of my mouth is coated with slime, that won't go away no matter how often I brush my teeth.
Plus, while I am in more pain, I am also a lot more lucid. So time is going by much more slowly.
Tomorrow is (hopefully) my last full day in the hospital. My doctor said I'd be released Monday or Tuesday. I am REALLY hoping for Monday!
Friday, August 7, 2009
Day Three: The dreaded day
All throughout Day 2, I dreaded day 3.
According to my online research, days 1 and 2 pass like a dream, and then days 3-5 suck the life out of your very body.
I woke up feeling tired and groggy.
Antoine came for a visit, and so did Ji-Yeong (they both came yesterday as well).
Ji-yeong brought Antoine two sandwiches, two doughnuts, and two bagels. As I sipped on my porridge and soup, Antoine loaded himself into carb heaven.
I felt great after lunch, even though my fentanyl drip had finally expired. I told Ji-yeong I wanted to take a shower.
She said she would help since I couldn't get my IV wet. I thought that went WAY above and beyong the call of a lab technician! She asked if I was shy. I said yes. She said the nurses could remove the iv for the shower and insert if again afterwards. Perfect.
After Ji-yeong and Antoine left, I took a shower. Well almost. I had JUST about gotten all of the conditioner out of my hair when hysterical banging on my bathroom door began. I opened the door a crack, and the female janitor montioned to the flood of water, escaping from the bathroom, through my room, and into the hallway.
My towel was in my room, so I had to stand there, totally naked, as she squeegied the escaped water back into my bathroom.
Well, that was a little too much excitment for me.
My throat started to really, really hurt. I asked when I could have my next painkiller. They told me 9pm. It's 5pm now.
The ENT doctor came to check on me, and told me I am bleeding again from the operation site. I guess it's not severe, but since he told me, it's all I can taste.
If I have 'massive bleeding' I have to press the emergency button in my room.
I have to plug my nose to swallow at all.
This sucks.
They were ALL right to say that day three sucks!!
According to my online research, days 1 and 2 pass like a dream, and then days 3-5 suck the life out of your very body.
I woke up feeling tired and groggy.
Antoine came for a visit, and so did Ji-Yeong (they both came yesterday as well).
Ji-yeong brought Antoine two sandwiches, two doughnuts, and two bagels. As I sipped on my porridge and soup, Antoine loaded himself into carb heaven.
I felt great after lunch, even though my fentanyl drip had finally expired. I told Ji-yeong I wanted to take a shower.
She said she would help since I couldn't get my IV wet. I thought that went WAY above and beyong the call of a lab technician! She asked if I was shy. I said yes. She said the nurses could remove the iv for the shower and insert if again afterwards. Perfect.
After Ji-yeong and Antoine left, I took a shower. Well almost. I had JUST about gotten all of the conditioner out of my hair when hysterical banging on my bathroom door began. I opened the door a crack, and the female janitor montioned to the flood of water, escaping from the bathroom, through my room, and into the hallway.
My towel was in my room, so I had to stand there, totally naked, as she squeegied the escaped water back into my bathroom.
Well, that was a little too much excitment for me.
My throat started to really, really hurt. I asked when I could have my next painkiller. They told me 9pm. It's 5pm now.
The ENT doctor came to check on me, and told me I am bleeding again from the operation site. I guess it's not severe, but since he told me, it's all I can taste.
If I have 'massive bleeding' I have to press the emergency button in my room.
I have to plug my nose to swallow at all.
This sucks.
They were ALL right to say that day three sucks!!
Day Two: The hazy day
Not too much to report for day two.
The pain is not too bad. It's kind of like having tonsillitis.
For meals I've been given rice porridge and soup, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It's getting old pretty fast. I'm trying to eat to keep up my strength though.
I googled the name of the extra drug I'd been given, Fentanyl.
Apparently it's 100x more potent than morphine, which may explain my difficulty in remembering today.
The pain is not too bad. It's kind of like having tonsillitis.
For meals I've been given rice porridge and soup, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It's getting old pretty fast. I'm trying to eat to keep up my strength though.
I googled the name of the extra drug I'd been given, Fentanyl.
Apparently it's 100x more potent than morphine, which may explain my difficulty in remembering today.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Day One: The operation
Wednesday morning started for me at 7:00am as I was shaken awake by a teeny nurse.
"Changee" she says to me as she passes me a different type of hospital shirt, and, no lie, a friggin' BONNET.
Then she left the room.
Obligingly I switched shirts, but left the bonnet off for the time being.
The rest of the morning I was visited by nurses and doctors almost every hour.
I had my blood pressure taken at 8:00.
At 9:00 I got my very first IV. (Sidenote, IV's are WELL used in Korea. It's a common sight to see babies in strollers attached to IV's. If you're hungover, you can get an IV too!)
So now I am attached to a six foot pole on wheels that I will have to drag around until I am discharges on the 10th (if things go well).
I got a couple of different liquids going through my veins straight away. One was just saline I believe (thank goodness!! It's HORRIBLE waking up and not being able to drink water!) and the other was an anti-bleeding medicine.
Nurses kept coming back with needles to inject into the IV as well. Some of them tried to explain what they were giving to me...but I didn't catch any of it. The language barrier was too high. It felt like ice going through my veins though, whatever they were doing!
As they slowly and surely prepped me, I started getting nervous all over again.
Luckily, Antoine (my rock) came again at 10am, as promised. I cannot stress enough how much a pair of tonsils would still be in my throat if it wasn't for this man!
We hung out and watched some 'How I met Your Mother' on the internet (I borrowed my friend's laptop for the hospital stay...I seriously have SUCH great friends!!)
All the while it just felt like Antoine and I were hanging out like normal...except I was dressed funny and on an IV (the sadist insisted on taking various pics of me in my bonnet too!) Oh, and another difference was that people kept bringing in paperwork for Antoine (my guardian?) and I to sign.
I told the staff that Antoine was my boyfriend, even though he's not. I didn't think they'd understand why just a friend was with me so much. Plus, it made them happy and swoony. 'Oh, boyfriend!! Very good!!'
11am and 12pm came and went...but it was still kind of shocking when they came for me at 12:10pm.
I had to ride in a wheelchair to the operating room. One of the nurses spent a lot of time fussing with my bonnet, until there was a great bow on the top of my head (Antoine got pics of that too lol).
They took away my glasses, locked up my room, and pushed me down to surgery.
Abruptly, they told Antoine that he couldn't come any further. That freaked me out! If it had been up to me, he wouldn't have been allowed to leave until I was already knocked out!
After my seperation with Antoine, I thought about backing out until the second I was knocked out.
After I was wheeled through these great double doors, I had to swap my wheelchair for a gurney.
I was pushed through room after room of double doors by a teeny surgical nurse, dressed all in green.
I could BARELY see anything without my glasses.
I don't know exactly why, but it was so scary. I'd never been anywhere like this before. I honestly thought shows like 'House' and 'ER' were exagerating the props/scenery.
Not so.
My operating room was 3x as big, 3x as green, and with twice as many HUGE lights as I'd been expecting!
With the edition of the lady who had pushed me into the room, there were now four teeny surgical nurses with me in the operating room.
They made me nervous (like everything else at this point).
They were all super skinny (all definitely under 100lbs), like four feet tall, and giggling together like school girls. They looked like high school students playing dress-up. I KNOW it's horribly judgemental of me, but I would have felt FAR better with some butch, broad, older nurses in the mix!
Anyway, my fears were unfounded as they professionally set me up for surgery. I got EKG sensors attached to my chest, a pulse checker attached to one of my fingers, and I was strapped down to the gurney, across my chest and thighs.
Now the only sounds in the room was my beating heart, and the titters of the nurses.
Seconds after they finished preparing me, the doctor came in. I already knew at this point that I'd be receiving Lazer, and not razer surgery, but I wanted to ask him if I'd be waking up with any tubes in me. Of course, no one in the operating room could understand me.
He held a mask above my face and told me to breathe. I was a bit confused because the mask looked as though it should suction over my nose and mouth, but he was holding it so it wasn't touching me.
Finally, I started taking deep breaths. I remember thinking it was taking a long time to work. I remember thinking maybe it wouldn't be effective on me. I remember closing my eyes, but then opening them again, worried that they'd take my closed eyes as a sign that as I was out, when I really wasn't.
That's all I remember of the operating room.
I woke up two hours later in a different part of the hospital. I woke up panicking and thrashing around.
The first fifteen minutes after I woke up are hazy to me now.
I don't know why but I started BEGGING for painkillers. I'm sure they had me on something, but I was freaked out. I don't even know/remember if I was IN pain, I just wanted painkillers in my fuzzy mindstate.
The nurses ran to get a doctor. He came back and told me that I could have stronger painkillers, but they'd cost me an extra 150$ for 48hrs worth. I immediately agreed. As they were preparing the painkiller, I begged for ice cubes to suck on, using all of the Korean I knew (I honestly think I spoke more consecutive Korean in those fifteen minutes then I have all year here). They were reluctant to give me anything orally, but I managed to co-erce three ice cubes out of them.
After the doctor came back (I found out later he had needed Antoine's permission for the extra drugs), he hooked up my iv with a little bag that is clipped to my shirt. There is a button on my wrist I can press if I want a burst of painkiller.
At about 2:30pm (half an hour after I woke up) I was gurneyed back to my room and reunited with Antoine. At this point I also came to my senses and remembered that I shouldn't talk.
I read a lot of stories of people who talked all through day 1 and 2, only to SEVERLY regret it on days 3-6 (the alleged worse days of this whole process, although days 6-10 have scabs coming off, and anytime from day 6-19 has a small chance of too MUCH scab coming off at once, causing major bleeding and a trip to the ER. Oh, so much to look forward too!)
All of my communication after this point happens with pen and paper. I'll probably start talking again after day 6 if I'm feeling like it.
Anyway, my throat was SO dry at this point. It had been 14.5 hrs since I'd had any liquid down my throat (apart from the three ice cubes).I begged for some ice to suck on. They refused, which utterly surprised me. All of my fellow tonsillectomy bloggers from the western world, spoke of being FORCED to eat a CUP of ice chips before being allowed home.
They told me they were afraid I would vomit and that I couldn't ingest anything until 5:00pm! That meant I'd have to wait for 2.5 hrs!
I told them I would die with no ice or water. They laughed (to be fair I meant them too:) and told me I could gargle water but I couldn't swallow.
Even just holding water in my mouth felt nice. I sent Antoine to get some ice for later, and cheated!! I totally swallowed water, and I didn't throw up! I told them I wouldn't! I haven't thrown up since I was a kid! (apart from the drunkest night of my life in Belfast, but if you don't remember AT all it doesn't count, right?)
I was served dinner at 6pm.
Dinner consisted of a cabbage/fish soup, and rice porridge with meat. Antione ate the porridge, and it took me four hours to drink the broth from the small cup of soup.
Shortly after Antoine left for the night, the ENT doctor came to visit me. He told me that I bled a lot more during the operation then most patients, so my chances of post-op bleeding was higher then most people as well.
He also looked at my ice very dissaprovingly, and said he only wanted me to drink water and eat ice cream.
I am disobeying this order.
I LOVE my ice!!
I let it melt in my mouth before swallowing anyway. Plus EVERYTHING I've read on the internet has ice chips as the number-one-must-have! AND everyone has said 'no ice cream!' because dairy produces mucus that causes coughing and difficulty swallowing.
I really believe the internet more then my doctor on these points. So I hope I'm betting on the right horse.
The rest of the night passed uneventfully. I slept sitting almost upright, because I felt like I was choking when I laid flat.
Nurses came in every two hours, checking my blood pressure, changing my iv bags, and injecting little needles into my iv.
I can't believe that in Canada I would have been home by 5pm (most people said their hospital stay for a tonsillectomy was four hours total).
I will be in this hospital 6 nights by the end of it, and I'm actually pretty happy about that. I feel much safer here!
"Changee" she says to me as she passes me a different type of hospital shirt, and, no lie, a friggin' BONNET.
Then she left the room.
Obligingly I switched shirts, but left the bonnet off for the time being.
The rest of the morning I was visited by nurses and doctors almost every hour.
I had my blood pressure taken at 8:00.
At 9:00 I got my very first IV. (Sidenote, IV's are WELL used in Korea. It's a common sight to see babies in strollers attached to IV's. If you're hungover, you can get an IV too!)
So now I am attached to a six foot pole on wheels that I will have to drag around until I am discharges on the 10th (if things go well).
I got a couple of different liquids going through my veins straight away. One was just saline I believe (thank goodness!! It's HORRIBLE waking up and not being able to drink water!) and the other was an anti-bleeding medicine.
Nurses kept coming back with needles to inject into the IV as well. Some of them tried to explain what they were giving to me...but I didn't catch any of it. The language barrier was too high. It felt like ice going through my veins though, whatever they were doing!
As they slowly and surely prepped me, I started getting nervous all over again.
Luckily, Antoine (my rock) came again at 10am, as promised. I cannot stress enough how much a pair of tonsils would still be in my throat if it wasn't for this man!
We hung out and watched some 'How I met Your Mother' on the internet (I borrowed my friend's laptop for the hospital stay...I seriously have SUCH great friends!!)
All the while it just felt like Antoine and I were hanging out like normal...except I was dressed funny and on an IV (the sadist insisted on taking various pics of me in my bonnet too!) Oh, and another difference was that people kept bringing in paperwork for Antoine (my guardian?) and I to sign.
I told the staff that Antoine was my boyfriend, even though he's not. I didn't think they'd understand why just a friend was with me so much. Plus, it made them happy and swoony. 'Oh, boyfriend!! Very good!!'
11am and 12pm came and went...but it was still kind of shocking when they came for me at 12:10pm.
I had to ride in a wheelchair to the operating room. One of the nurses spent a lot of time fussing with my bonnet, until there was a great bow on the top of my head (Antoine got pics of that too lol).
They took away my glasses, locked up my room, and pushed me down to surgery.
Abruptly, they told Antoine that he couldn't come any further. That freaked me out! If it had been up to me, he wouldn't have been allowed to leave until I was already knocked out!
After my seperation with Antoine, I thought about backing out until the second I was knocked out.
After I was wheeled through these great double doors, I had to swap my wheelchair for a gurney.
I was pushed through room after room of double doors by a teeny surgical nurse, dressed all in green.
I could BARELY see anything without my glasses.
I don't know exactly why, but it was so scary. I'd never been anywhere like this before. I honestly thought shows like 'House' and 'ER' were exagerating the props/scenery.
Not so.
My operating room was 3x as big, 3x as green, and with twice as many HUGE lights as I'd been expecting!
With the edition of the lady who had pushed me into the room, there were now four teeny surgical nurses with me in the operating room.
They made me nervous (like everything else at this point).
They were all super skinny (all definitely under 100lbs), like four feet tall, and giggling together like school girls. They looked like high school students playing dress-up. I KNOW it's horribly judgemental of me, but I would have felt FAR better with some butch, broad, older nurses in the mix!
Anyway, my fears were unfounded as they professionally set me up for surgery. I got EKG sensors attached to my chest, a pulse checker attached to one of my fingers, and I was strapped down to the gurney, across my chest and thighs.
Now the only sounds in the room was my beating heart, and the titters of the nurses.
Seconds after they finished preparing me, the doctor came in. I already knew at this point that I'd be receiving Lazer, and not razer surgery, but I wanted to ask him if I'd be waking up with any tubes in me. Of course, no one in the operating room could understand me.
He held a mask above my face and told me to breathe. I was a bit confused because the mask looked as though it should suction over my nose and mouth, but he was holding it so it wasn't touching me.
Finally, I started taking deep breaths. I remember thinking it was taking a long time to work. I remember thinking maybe it wouldn't be effective on me. I remember closing my eyes, but then opening them again, worried that they'd take my closed eyes as a sign that as I was out, when I really wasn't.
That's all I remember of the operating room.
I woke up two hours later in a different part of the hospital. I woke up panicking and thrashing around.
The first fifteen minutes after I woke up are hazy to me now.
I don't know why but I started BEGGING for painkillers. I'm sure they had me on something, but I was freaked out. I don't even know/remember if I was IN pain, I just wanted painkillers in my fuzzy mindstate.
The nurses ran to get a doctor. He came back and told me that I could have stronger painkillers, but they'd cost me an extra 150$ for 48hrs worth. I immediately agreed. As they were preparing the painkiller, I begged for ice cubes to suck on, using all of the Korean I knew (I honestly think I spoke more consecutive Korean in those fifteen minutes then I have all year here). They were reluctant to give me anything orally, but I managed to co-erce three ice cubes out of them.
After the doctor came back (I found out later he had needed Antoine's permission for the extra drugs), he hooked up my iv with a little bag that is clipped to my shirt. There is a button on my wrist I can press if I want a burst of painkiller.
At about 2:30pm (half an hour after I woke up) I was gurneyed back to my room and reunited with Antoine. At this point I also came to my senses and remembered that I shouldn't talk.
I read a lot of stories of people who talked all through day 1 and 2, only to SEVERLY regret it on days 3-6 (the alleged worse days of this whole process, although days 6-10 have scabs coming off, and anytime from day 6-19 has a small chance of too MUCH scab coming off at once, causing major bleeding and a trip to the ER. Oh, so much to look forward too!)
All of my communication after this point happens with pen and paper. I'll probably start talking again after day 6 if I'm feeling like it.
Anyway, my throat was SO dry at this point. It had been 14.5 hrs since I'd had any liquid down my throat (apart from the three ice cubes).I begged for some ice to suck on. They refused, which utterly surprised me. All of my fellow tonsillectomy bloggers from the western world, spoke of being FORCED to eat a CUP of ice chips before being allowed home.
They told me they were afraid I would vomit and that I couldn't ingest anything until 5:00pm! That meant I'd have to wait for 2.5 hrs!
I told them I would die with no ice or water. They laughed (to be fair I meant them too:) and told me I could gargle water but I couldn't swallow.
Even just holding water in my mouth felt nice. I sent Antoine to get some ice for later, and cheated!! I totally swallowed water, and I didn't throw up! I told them I wouldn't! I haven't thrown up since I was a kid! (apart from the drunkest night of my life in Belfast, but if you don't remember AT all it doesn't count, right?)
I was served dinner at 6pm.
Dinner consisted of a cabbage/fish soup, and rice porridge with meat. Antione ate the porridge, and it took me four hours to drink the broth from the small cup of soup.
Shortly after Antoine left for the night, the ENT doctor came to visit me. He told me that I bled a lot more during the operation then most patients, so my chances of post-op bleeding was higher then most people as well.
He also looked at my ice very dissaprovingly, and said he only wanted me to drink water and eat ice cream.
I am disobeying this order.
I LOVE my ice!!
I let it melt in my mouth before swallowing anyway. Plus EVERYTHING I've read on the internet has ice chips as the number-one-must-have! AND everyone has said 'no ice cream!' because dairy produces mucus that causes coughing and difficulty swallowing.
I really believe the internet more then my doctor on these points. So I hope I'm betting on the right horse.
The rest of the night passed uneventfully. I slept sitting almost upright, because I felt like I was choking when I laid flat.
Nurses came in every two hours, checking my blood pressure, changing my iv bags, and injecting little needles into my iv.
I can't believe that in Canada I would have been home by 5pm (most people said their hospital stay for a tonsillectomy was four hours total).
I will be in this hospital 6 nights by the end of it, and I'm actually pretty happy about that. I feel much safer here!
Day Zero: The check-in
I guess I should give a little bit of background leading up to day zero (aka August 4th).
A few days earlier I had received a rather cryptic text message from a private number:
"You'd better come with your friend. ask me anything you're wondering by phone"
Mind you, you're reading this blog in the sole context of tonsillectomy. I hadn't even though about my pending tonsillectomy, so I was confused. Then I saw that this text msg was part 3 of 3.
The other two read:
"Jenifer I'm Ji-yeong who has working at Carollo hospital. I'm so sorry that I can not help you on 4 august because I will have a vacation 3 to 5. You'd better come with your friend..."
This definitely scared me a bit. As far as I could tell, she was the only proficient English-speaker in the whole hospital!
Also, most of my friends were away in Canada, India, China, and France. I really only had one SUPER close friend not on vacation: Antoine.
I shyly asked him if he would play nursemaid for me while I was in the hospital. Luckily he agreed whole-heartedly (he's SUCH a good guy!)
So that's how it came to pass that Antoine and I arrived at the hospital at four o'clock on August 4th.
I think I had to come at four because the ENT doctors finish work at 6pm, and they wanted to go over a few last minute things with me.
One of the ladies had pretty good English, and if she needed to, she used her cell phone dictionary to supplement her skills.
She had one sheet of paper covered in Korean that she had to give to me. She looked at me, looked at the paper, nerviously giggled, and said, 'but it is in Korean!' in a sort of stunned voice. Then her eyes cleared, and she passed it to me, saying, "souvenir".
Then it wss time to check into my room.
Since my insurance is not paying for this, I opted to have a shared room, with seven other people, at ten dollars a night. Singles were 85/night. I just couldn't justify paying an extra 510$ for board on TOP of the 600$ for the operation.
That is, until I saw the single room.
A nurse guided Antoine and I into a smallish room with four beds on each side. There was one fridge, one tv, and one a/c controller, for all eight of us.
And guess what?
Four of 'us' were children.
I'd say two infants, a two year old, and a four year old.
They were ALL crying.
I sympathized of course, it sucks being in the hospital as a kid. But there is NOTHING on this EARTH I hate more then the sound of crying, screaming children.
The nurse took me to my bed (and it was between two other beds) then plopped my hospital jams on the stained bedsheets, drew the curtain around Antoine and I, and gestured that I should change.
Instead, I burst into tears.
There was NO WAY I could stay in that hellhole for an entire week!
I HAD to get out of there!
Stressed out, I led Antoine outside to the veranda. I was SERIOUSLY considering backing out at this point. The money, the shreiking babies! the doctors who didn't think I REALLY needed the operation! It was all catching up to me so fast. I had been wanting a tonsilectomy for three years, but maybe I was wrong to want one all along. I'd never had ANY surgery before, never had been knocked out, never had so much as an iv (that I could remember).
Thank God for Antoine.
He calmed me down and allowed me to look at things clearly, without imposing his opinions on me.
Of course I wanted the surgery. Two weeks pain to never have tonsillitis/strep throat again? Worth it.
Paying 85$/night to be able to have my own tv, my own fridge, my own bathroom, control of the air/con and lights, and no screaming babies? Worth it.
Crisis averted; Antoine and I checked me into my lovely single room.
All of this was accomplished by 6:43pm.
I don't know if I mentioned how ridiculous I thought it was that I had to sleep at the hospital the night BEFORE my surgery. So I was relieved that they told me I could go out for dinner as long as I was back by 9pm.
Antoine and I went out for my last, 'eat whatever I want' meal for two-three weeks.
We returned to the hospital by 9pm.
I was instructed that I would start a total fast beginning at midnight (not even water allowed). And I was finally told the time for my surgery (11am or 12pm).
Antoine stayed with me until 11pm, and then went home, promising to return for 10am the next day.
And then I was a stupid cow.
For the first time I googled people's accounts of THEIR tonsillectomies (rather then just looking at medical advice).
I definitely gained some useful knowledge (like ice the OUTSIDE of your neck, useful things to eat, what not to eat, etc, etc) but I also scared myself silly.
For the second time that day, I was convinced I should abort the tonsilectomy mission.
Luckily, my mother signed on to facebook chat as I was facing my second break-down of the day.
She told me that she and my step-father definitely think that I should go ahead with this. I value their opinion very highly, so I felt like I was making the right decision.
Since she had made me feel better about that, I started telling her about the differences in comfort and price between the shared and single rooms. I wondered if I was being too much of a princess about the whole thing. Before I told her of my conclusion, she wrote to me that I DEFINITELY should take the single room!
Now, I'm 24 and completely financially independant, but my mother said the sweetest thing next.
"Jennifer I'LL pay for the room!! I can transfer the money into your account RIGHT now!!"
Of course I didn't take her up on her offer, I HAVE the money, but it made me feel good to know that she strongly thought it was worth spending the money on.
I finally fell into an uneasy, parched sleep around 2:30am.
A few days earlier I had received a rather cryptic text message from a private number:
"You'd better come with your friend. ask me anything you're wondering by phone"
Mind you, you're reading this blog in the sole context of tonsillectomy. I hadn't even though about my pending tonsillectomy, so I was confused. Then I saw that this text msg was part 3 of 3.
The other two read:
"Jenifer I'm Ji-yeong who has working at Carollo hospital. I'm so sorry that I can not help you on 4 august because I will have a vacation 3 to 5. You'd better come with your friend..."
This definitely scared me a bit. As far as I could tell, she was the only proficient English-speaker in the whole hospital!
Also, most of my friends were away in Canada, India, China, and France. I really only had one SUPER close friend not on vacation: Antoine.
I shyly asked him if he would play nursemaid for me while I was in the hospital. Luckily he agreed whole-heartedly (he's SUCH a good guy!)
So that's how it came to pass that Antoine and I arrived at the hospital at four o'clock on August 4th.
I think I had to come at four because the ENT doctors finish work at 6pm, and they wanted to go over a few last minute things with me.
One of the ladies had pretty good English, and if she needed to, she used her cell phone dictionary to supplement her skills.
She had one sheet of paper covered in Korean that she had to give to me. She looked at me, looked at the paper, nerviously giggled, and said, 'but it is in Korean!' in a sort of stunned voice. Then her eyes cleared, and she passed it to me, saying, "souvenir".
Then it wss time to check into my room.
Since my insurance is not paying for this, I opted to have a shared room, with seven other people, at ten dollars a night. Singles were 85/night. I just couldn't justify paying an extra 510$ for board on TOP of the 600$ for the operation.
That is, until I saw the single room.
A nurse guided Antoine and I into a smallish room with four beds on each side. There was one fridge, one tv, and one a/c controller, for all eight of us.
And guess what?
Four of 'us' were children.
I'd say two infants, a two year old, and a four year old.
They were ALL crying.
I sympathized of course, it sucks being in the hospital as a kid. But there is NOTHING on this EARTH I hate more then the sound of crying, screaming children.
The nurse took me to my bed (and it was between two other beds) then plopped my hospital jams on the stained bedsheets, drew the curtain around Antoine and I, and gestured that I should change.
Instead, I burst into tears.
There was NO WAY I could stay in that hellhole for an entire week!
I HAD to get out of there!
Stressed out, I led Antoine outside to the veranda. I was SERIOUSLY considering backing out at this point. The money, the shreiking babies! the doctors who didn't think I REALLY needed the operation! It was all catching up to me so fast. I had been wanting a tonsilectomy for three years, but maybe I was wrong to want one all along. I'd never had ANY surgery before, never had been knocked out, never had so much as an iv (that I could remember).
Thank God for Antoine.
He calmed me down and allowed me to look at things clearly, without imposing his opinions on me.
Of course I wanted the surgery. Two weeks pain to never have tonsillitis/strep throat again? Worth it.
Paying 85$/night to be able to have my own tv, my own fridge, my own bathroom, control of the air/con and lights, and no screaming babies? Worth it.
Crisis averted; Antoine and I checked me into my lovely single room.
All of this was accomplished by 6:43pm.
I don't know if I mentioned how ridiculous I thought it was that I had to sleep at the hospital the night BEFORE my surgery. So I was relieved that they told me I could go out for dinner as long as I was back by 9pm.
Antoine and I went out for my last, 'eat whatever I want' meal for two-three weeks.
We returned to the hospital by 9pm.
I was instructed that I would start a total fast beginning at midnight (not even water allowed). And I was finally told the time for my surgery (11am or 12pm).
Antoine stayed with me until 11pm, and then went home, promising to return for 10am the next day.
And then I was a stupid cow.
For the first time I googled people's accounts of THEIR tonsillectomies (rather then just looking at medical advice).
I definitely gained some useful knowledge (like ice the OUTSIDE of your neck, useful things to eat, what not to eat, etc, etc) but I also scared myself silly.
For the second time that day, I was convinced I should abort the tonsilectomy mission.
Luckily, my mother signed on to facebook chat as I was facing my second break-down of the day.
She told me that she and my step-father definitely think that I should go ahead with this. I value their opinion very highly, so I felt like I was making the right decision.
Since she had made me feel better about that, I started telling her about the differences in comfort and price between the shared and single rooms. I wondered if I was being too much of a princess about the whole thing. Before I told her of my conclusion, she wrote to me that I DEFINITELY should take the single room!
Now, I'm 24 and completely financially independant, but my mother said the sweetest thing next.
"Jennifer I'LL pay for the room!! I can transfer the money into your account RIGHT now!!"
Of course I didn't take her up on her offer, I HAVE the money, but it made me feel good to know that she strongly thought it was worth spending the money on.
I finally fell into an uneasy, parched sleep around 2:30am.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Pre-op appointment
On July 7th, I returned to the hospital to make sure my body could withstand the surgery scheduled for the next month.
As instructed, I called Ji-yeong as soon as I entered the hospital.
I cannot describe in words how happy she was to see me again!
Happily she pulled me around the hospital for the next hour and a half. I had to give a blood and urine sample, my height and weight were recorded, they checked my blood pressure, took x-rays of my chest, and finally performed an EKG. I didn't have to wait for ANY of the procedures...going back to the Canadian health care system is going to be difficult after that!
Throughout this whole experience, Ji-yeong introduced me to the rest of the staff as if I were her best friend. She treated me like I was her best friend too! I can't believe she took so much time away from her job just to help me out. She is super nice!
The conclusions of this appointment are as follows:
-I am definitely scheduled for the 5th of August BUT
-I have to check in at 4pm on August 4th.
-I will be staying for a week in the hospital (in Canada, it's a four-hour stay!)
-And the whole thing will cost me roughly $600CDN (it's free in Canada, but like I said in my previous entry, I couldn't get it done there due to the waiting times).
-And I'm either having a razer or a lazer tonsillectomy. (Korean people aren't so good at differentiating between 'r's and 'l's)
As instructed, I called Ji-yeong as soon as I entered the hospital.
I cannot describe in words how happy she was to see me again!
Happily she pulled me around the hospital for the next hour and a half. I had to give a blood and urine sample, my height and weight were recorded, they checked my blood pressure, took x-rays of my chest, and finally performed an EKG. I didn't have to wait for ANY of the procedures...going back to the Canadian health care system is going to be difficult after that!
Throughout this whole experience, Ji-yeong introduced me to the rest of the staff as if I were her best friend. She treated me like I was her best friend too! I can't believe she took so much time away from her job just to help me out. She is super nice!
The conclusions of this appointment are as follows:
-I am definitely scheduled for the 5th of August BUT
-I have to check in at 4pm on August 4th.
-I will be staying for a week in the hospital (in Canada, it's a four-hour stay!)
-And the whole thing will cost me roughly $600CDN (it's free in Canada, but like I said in my previous entry, I couldn't get it done there due to the waiting times).
-And I'm either having a razer or a lazer tonsillectomy. (Korean people aren't so good at differentiating between 'r's and 'l's)
Making the appointment
Near the end of May, I went unannounced to the biggest hospital in Suncheon: St. Carlos (or Carllo?).
I tried miming, 'I need to schedule an appointment to get a tonsillectomy' to the frightened receptionist, but she didn't didn't understand (shocking?? lol)
So she called in an English Speaker from elsewhere in the hospital.
My new best friend's name was Ji-yeong. She was so pretty, sweet, and young. And obviously chomping at the bit to speak English with me.
Ji-yeong immediately whisked me away to the ENT department of the hospital. We had to wait in the waiting room for about 20 minutes. As per usual I was grilled about my life and asked intensely personal questions. I didn't mind, it's obvious from this blog that I like to talk about myself:)Everything I told her about my life elicted gasps, and 'woah's and 'oh great's and 'wow's.
Feeling a bit uncomfortable with the excessive adulation, I tried to change the subject.
Ji-yeong was wearing a lab coat, so I asked her if she was a doctor. Suddenly, she became as animated as elmo the tickle-monster.
"OOOHHHHH nOOOOOOO!! I HATE doctors! They walk around the hospital like they are the kings/queens and they stick up their noses at everyone else!! My boss, he is the worst! He sometimes uses four-letter words at me!!!'
After this cute and startling tirade, I asked her what her job was.
"Well, I'll tell you, it's a 3-D job: dirty, difficult, and dangerous. I am a lab technician, I go through samples of blood, urine, and feces. I like it though!'
Soon enough we were ushered into the ENT room.
The doctor asked me a few basic questions, and then brought out a foot-long skinny black tube, with a camera and a light on the end.
I was nervous at the thought of this going down my throat and gagging me (that's the worst part of frequent tonsillitis, all of the throat swabs).
I sort of shook my head away from it.
Ji-yeong was shocked at my wimpy behaviour.
"How will you get a tonsillectomy if you won't do this!!'
I slowly opened my mouth wide in agreement.
The doctor and Ji-yeong just looked at me.
"....this isn't going in your mouth...."
They put it in one of my nostrils, but only maybe a cm of the way in. It was perfectly comfortable. If only they had told me in the first place!
Anyway, I got to look at the inside of my throat from a whole new angle. The doctor told me my tonsils were not THAT big. I said I still wanted them removed. He shrugged. Didn't matter to him either way.
And so my tonsillectomy was scheduled for August 5th, 2009.
As I was leaving the hospital, Ji-yeong informed me I'd have to return between July 5th-10th to make sure I was a fit candidate for surgery.
The sweetheart gave me her cell phone number, and her extension at the hospital. I had to PROMISE to call her when I came back in July.
Warmed by her kindness, I left the hospital.
I tried miming, 'I need to schedule an appointment to get a tonsillectomy' to the frightened receptionist, but she didn't didn't understand (shocking?? lol)
So she called in an English Speaker from elsewhere in the hospital.
My new best friend's name was Ji-yeong. She was so pretty, sweet, and young. And obviously chomping at the bit to speak English with me.
Ji-yeong immediately whisked me away to the ENT department of the hospital. We had to wait in the waiting room for about 20 minutes. As per usual I was grilled about my life and asked intensely personal questions. I didn't mind, it's obvious from this blog that I like to talk about myself:)Everything I told her about my life elicted gasps, and 'woah's and 'oh great's and 'wow's.
Feeling a bit uncomfortable with the excessive adulation, I tried to change the subject.
Ji-yeong was wearing a lab coat, so I asked her if she was a doctor. Suddenly, she became as animated as elmo the tickle-monster.
"OOOHHHHH nOOOOOOO!! I HATE doctors! They walk around the hospital like they are the kings/queens and they stick up their noses at everyone else!! My boss, he is the worst! He sometimes uses four-letter words at me!!!'
After this cute and startling tirade, I asked her what her job was.
"Well, I'll tell you, it's a 3-D job: dirty, difficult, and dangerous. I am a lab technician, I go through samples of blood, urine, and feces. I like it though!'
Soon enough we were ushered into the ENT room.
The doctor asked me a few basic questions, and then brought out a foot-long skinny black tube, with a camera and a light on the end.
I was nervous at the thought of this going down my throat and gagging me (that's the worst part of frequent tonsillitis, all of the throat swabs).
I sort of shook my head away from it.
Ji-yeong was shocked at my wimpy behaviour.
"How will you get a tonsillectomy if you won't do this!!'
I slowly opened my mouth wide in agreement.
The doctor and Ji-yeong just looked at me.
"....this isn't going in your mouth...."
They put it in one of my nostrils, but only maybe a cm of the way in. It was perfectly comfortable. If only they had told me in the first place!
Anyway, I got to look at the inside of my throat from a whole new angle. The doctor told me my tonsils were not THAT big. I said I still wanted them removed. He shrugged. Didn't matter to him either way.
And so my tonsillectomy was scheduled for August 5th, 2009.
As I was leaving the hospital, Ji-yeong informed me I'd have to return between July 5th-10th to make sure I was a fit candidate for surgery.
The sweetheart gave me her cell phone number, and her extension at the hospital. I had to PROMISE to call her when I came back in July.
Warmed by her kindness, I left the hospital.
Why I'm getting a tonsillectomy (in Korea)
My tonsils have plagued me since I was a child.
From before I can remember, to age 19, I had tonsilitis or strep throat AT LEAST 2-3 times per year. It got to the point where I could tell my docter exactly what to prescribe me. Heck, it got to the point where I could probably diagnose OTHER people's throat problems.
Tonsilitis/strep were MY illnesses, I was totally used to them, and since I contracted them under 6-8 times per year, my docters wouldn't hear of removing them. It was just part of my life: not pleasant, but not dehabilitating either.
The August when I was 19 changed everything. I was sick for an ENTIRE month. After years of taking the same kinds of anti-biotics, my body no longer reacted to them. I'm allergic to penicillan, which limited my drug options even further. After a month my doctor finally found medicine to get rid of the tonsilitis.
Unfortunately, my left tonsil was never the same. It had swollen to the point where it was a hair's breadth away from touching my uvula. I'm 24 now, and it's still the same size.
Not to cause anyone to gag, but subsequent infections left the permanently swollen tonsil pitted, full of calcium stones, and prone to catching food.
Also, after the month-long infection, I started getting infections during times of stress: travel, exam periods, or even if I was feeling depressed. I'm not a doctor, but to me, those symptoms suggested a permenant infection in that tonsil.
My lowest point occured on a weekend getaway with some of my best girlfriends. I woke up in the middle of the night with my tonsils almost touching. I was terrified because I couldn't even swallow my own saliva.
That experience did it for me, I was getting those suckers out! Never mind that adult tonsilectomies are painful, nevermind that I didn't get ill 'enough', nevermind any of that jazz!
I went to my regular docter in May 2006 and laid out all of my greiviances. She said it wasn't enough to get them out. I argued. Finally, she agreed to schedule me an appointment with an Ear, Throat, and Nose (ENT) specialist. ENT specialists are the only ones who can schedule tonsilectomies. So that was fine...except the first appointment she could get me was in November 2006!
I dutifully went to my appointment. The ENT doctor agreed with me. He said the stones in my tonsils could potentially cause problems and scheduled my surgery... for ten months later on September 7th, 2007!
I REALLY planned to go to that appointment. What I hadn't counted on (in November 2006) was a two-month fabulous backpacking trip around Europe in the summer of 2007. I returned to Canada exhilarated, full of memories, and completely, utterly broke. There was no way I could skip a pay check for the two-week recovery time in September. (especially when my employers were kind enough to take me back after leaving them in the high-season).
Frustrated with the year and a half waiting time, I didn't bother making another appointment. I learned my lesson; planning something a year and a half away didn't suit my lifestyle.
Fast-forward to this year.
I'm spending August 2008-August 2009 in the small city of Suncheon, South Korea. I've been working as an English teacher in a public school. With my particular contract I got: a week off in September (this was coincidence, but still great)and the months of January, February, and August.
During January I explored South Korea, and generally relaxed. During February I made a (well-documented) trip through Thailand, Cambodia, and Vietnam.
But, what to do with August?
A lot of my friends went back to their homelands for a visit (because they are staying for another year). Other locations for a vacation included: India, China, and France.
Nothing appealed to me. I love traveling, but China and India are too crowded and hot this time of year, France is too far away (expensive!) and I didn't want to
go anywhere by myself.
And then,
Eureaka!
When else, in my ENTIRE life, will I be paid for a full MONTH with nothing to do?
When else, will I have ALL the time in the WORLD to recover from a painful surgery?
And that was that.
My decision was basically made for me.
Tonsils, watch out!
From before I can remember, to age 19, I had tonsilitis or strep throat AT LEAST 2-3 times per year. It got to the point where I could tell my docter exactly what to prescribe me. Heck, it got to the point where I could probably diagnose OTHER people's throat problems.
Tonsilitis/strep were MY illnesses, I was totally used to them, and since I contracted them under 6-8 times per year, my docters wouldn't hear of removing them. It was just part of my life: not pleasant, but not dehabilitating either.
The August when I was 19 changed everything. I was sick for an ENTIRE month. After years of taking the same kinds of anti-biotics, my body no longer reacted to them. I'm allergic to penicillan, which limited my drug options even further. After a month my doctor finally found medicine to get rid of the tonsilitis.
Unfortunately, my left tonsil was never the same. It had swollen to the point where it was a hair's breadth away from touching my uvula. I'm 24 now, and it's still the same size.
Not to cause anyone to gag, but subsequent infections left the permanently swollen tonsil pitted, full of calcium stones, and prone to catching food.
Also, after the month-long infection, I started getting infections during times of stress: travel, exam periods, or even if I was feeling depressed. I'm not a doctor, but to me, those symptoms suggested a permenant infection in that tonsil.
My lowest point occured on a weekend getaway with some of my best girlfriends. I woke up in the middle of the night with my tonsils almost touching. I was terrified because I couldn't even swallow my own saliva.
That experience did it for me, I was getting those suckers out! Never mind that adult tonsilectomies are painful, nevermind that I didn't get ill 'enough', nevermind any of that jazz!
I went to my regular docter in May 2006 and laid out all of my greiviances. She said it wasn't enough to get them out. I argued. Finally, she agreed to schedule me an appointment with an Ear, Throat, and Nose (ENT) specialist. ENT specialists are the only ones who can schedule tonsilectomies. So that was fine...except the first appointment she could get me was in November 2006!
I dutifully went to my appointment. The ENT doctor agreed with me. He said the stones in my tonsils could potentially cause problems and scheduled my surgery... for ten months later on September 7th, 2007!
I REALLY planned to go to that appointment. What I hadn't counted on (in November 2006) was a two-month fabulous backpacking trip around Europe in the summer of 2007. I returned to Canada exhilarated, full of memories, and completely, utterly broke. There was no way I could skip a pay check for the two-week recovery time in September. (especially when my employers were kind enough to take me back after leaving them in the high-season).
Frustrated with the year and a half waiting time, I didn't bother making another appointment. I learned my lesson; planning something a year and a half away didn't suit my lifestyle.
Fast-forward to this year.
I'm spending August 2008-August 2009 in the small city of Suncheon, South Korea. I've been working as an English teacher in a public school. With my particular contract I got: a week off in September (this was coincidence, but still great)and the months of January, February, and August.
During January I explored South Korea, and generally relaxed. During February I made a (well-documented) trip through Thailand, Cambodia, and Vietnam.
But, what to do with August?
A lot of my friends went back to their homelands for a visit (because they are staying for another year). Other locations for a vacation included: India, China, and France.
Nothing appealed to me. I love traveling, but China and India are too crowded and hot this time of year, France is too far away (expensive!) and I didn't want to
go anywhere by myself.
And then,
Eureaka!
When else, in my ENTIRE life, will I be paid for a full MONTH with nothing to do?
When else, will I have ALL the time in the WORLD to recover from a painful surgery?
And that was that.
My decision was basically made for me.
Tonsils, watch out!
Why I'm writing about my tonsilectomy.
The purpose of this blog is to help anyone else who may ever be in my situation. When I decided to get a tonsillectomy, I searched all over the internet trying to find a personal account of an English-speaking foreigner getting their tonsils out in Korea.
Unsurprisingly, I came up with nothing.
I don't know if anyone else would be crazy enough to do this, but if you're out there, this is for you!
I think someone getting a tonsilectomy in the western hemisphere could find this helpful too. My experiences won't all be relatable, but I found most tonsilectomy accounts on the internet to be terrifying; authors spouting phrases like, 'razor blades in my neck!' 'I want to die!' 'This pain is worse then the emergency c-section I had to endure without any drugs' etc,etc.
I suppose people USUALLY only write about surgeries if they have extreme stories to tell (at least that's what I kept telling myself as I read these gory entries). However, these stories are not in the least comforting to future patients!
I also want to say that NOTHING I write should be constituted as medical advice. If you have any questions, please consult your doctor. I only want to let you know how this worked for me.
So there you have it, the why of my blog; enjoy!
ps. although I'm going to talk EXTENSIVELY about the pre-op business (because I am a rambler) start on the entry entitled 'Day Zero' for the actual hospital visit.
Unsurprisingly, I came up with nothing.
I don't know if anyone else would be crazy enough to do this, but if you're out there, this is for you!
I think someone getting a tonsilectomy in the western hemisphere could find this helpful too. My experiences won't all be relatable, but I found most tonsilectomy accounts on the internet to be terrifying; authors spouting phrases like, 'razor blades in my neck!' 'I want to die!' 'This pain is worse then the emergency c-section I had to endure without any drugs' etc,etc.
I suppose people USUALLY only write about surgeries if they have extreme stories to tell (at least that's what I kept telling myself as I read these gory entries). However, these stories are not in the least comforting to future patients!
I also want to say that NOTHING I write should be constituted as medical advice. If you have any questions, please consult your doctor. I only want to let you know how this worked for me.
So there you have it, the why of my blog; enjoy!
ps. although I'm going to talk EXTENSIVELY about the pre-op business (because I am a rambler) start on the entry entitled 'Day Zero' for the actual hospital visit.
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