I am now back at home after undergoing an adeno-tonsillectomy and as it’s 4am in the morning and I haven’t slept for two full days I thought I may as well write about the experience just in case anyone else has to go through something similar.

Firstly, I was told before hand that under no circumstances should I catch a cold. OK, I’ve got a 2year old daughter and a 1year old son both at nursery (if you’re a parent you’ll know that means they’ve got a cold almost every week!) and I work in an office full of people who seem to simply take turns catching a cold. Needless to say I caught one and not only that but when they took my blood pressure I was told it was slightly high. Slightly high? Could that be, by any chance, that I was feeling somewhat apprehensive at the prospect of having my innards filleted? Fortunately they decided to go ahead with the operation bearing in mind I’ve had tonsillitis 9 times this year and a delay might mean I get it again.

There was also the issue about my weight. Fortunately I’ve lost 10 lbs in just over a week so I was lighter than they were expecting but the anesthetist told me that because of all these things together he would need to ‘prep’ me whilst I was awake. I have to say that he did a remarkably good job of keeping my spirits up, he was very open and honest and had a raw joviality about him that made me temporarily forget what I was in for.

So what happened? OK, I got checked in so to speak. I got changed into some very unbecoming hospital gear that had an almost fitted feel to it, then I had to walk down the hall into the pre-op waiting room. The specialist told me that I would be second, he had a child to perform the operation upon first and I presume was using that as some kind of warm up. Sharon was told she couldn’t stay any longer because the place was busy so it was goodbye and a hesitant ‘I’ll see you later’.

My ‘turn’ came around very quickly at almost 10am on the dot. A nurse walked me down the various halls to the operating theatre and all I could hear was a screaming, very upset, child which made me feel very calm indeed – not! I entered the operating theatre into a small room where the anesthetist would do his work.

First off I had to climb up onto a small bed and have the two sides pulled up to stop me falling out. A blanket was placed over my legs and everyone – one by one introduced themselves which was very nice and very reassuring. I have to say at this point that I found it a very unusual experience being the sole centre of attention as it is not something I crave for and not something I found very comfortable in all honesty – but it was what it was and I knew that whatever was coming I just had to be as co-operative as possible to get it over with as quickly as possible.

I had to answer the same series of questions I’d been asked all morning – but at least they were double-checking. The anesthetist kept calling me John then Justin. It became a bit of joke in the room especially as there were suddenly about eight people in the room (a couple of students were apparently invited along).A valve was put into the back of my right hand and an ‘ash pack’ was injected. I have no idea what that was for.

I was then told that I would have to swallow a rather large greased pipe and that it would be done very slowly. First up though I had to drink three different quantities of pineapple flavoured liquid. Yes, there was a hint of pineapple but pineapple in andrews liver salts would be a better description. It was very unpleasant but it did have the advantage of numbing various parts of my throat and the strength of the dose was increased each time.

He tried off with the pipe, first spraying a local anaesthetic into my throat then pushing the pipe along – this made me cough and gag. I wasn’t over acting I just felt it happen as a reaction. He tried four times but by the end I was about to be violently sick so he took the entire thing out and reached for what he called a shoe. This was a heart shaped device about the size of an average hand and this would be pushed into my throat then turned 90 degrees to force open the throat area and airway. The middle of the shoe was soft with a hole in it for a tube to be inserted. Believe me this was not a nice experience. I tried I really tried but the gagging reflex kicked in and I felt quite a bit like John Hurt in the original Alien movie when he’s sick after dinner. The anesthetist tried this several times and by the end water was running out of both my eyes, my windpipe was full of some strange pink liquid, my entire body was convulsing and even the two student nurses were turning away. The anesthetist decided it wasn’t going to work so got me to sit up and spit out all the liquid (which is why I know it was pink).

He reverted back to the original plan of pushing the tube down my throat and I told him ‘just do it’ because by this time I’d been in there for 35 minutes and so he did. He pushed it in and kept spraying – eventually it went in – the funny part was that at a certain point my voice just cut out. He told me it would but it was very unusual feeling. I actually remember one of the student nurses stroking my foot – what a thing to remember? I felt a final push of the pipe and he told me it was in. I confess I was finding it very hard to breathe but in reality the pipe was breathing for me so I just had to take shallow breaths. It was uncomfortable and I was worrying about it but then he said ‘We’re all set … bye bye see you later” and I remember looking at the clock – 10:43 I’d been in there forty odd minutes. I remember lying there thinking he hasn’t asked me to count backwards. I’m still awake. Oh no, I’m still awake.

Then I heard him say “All done, well done” and it was over. I glanced at the clock and it said 12:37. There had been no graying, dimming or blurring – just one minute awake – the other not. I did learn later then when they ‘put you under’ that you are not actually asleep and that you won’t dream or anything. What they actually do is place you into a comatose state whereby parts of your body are essentially switched off but your brain is still active.

Geez did I feel sore as they pushed me on the bed round the hospital, up a lift into the ward and were trying to figure out how to get me into the ward bed when I sat up and said “I’ll just walk across” – much to everyones delight.

For the next four or five hours ( I had no idea what time it was as there were no clocks ) I just lay with an oxygen mask on staring at the ceiling. Eventually a nurse came and asked me if I would like some pain killers to which I put my thumbs up – she gave me two huge pills with some water. Pills? Later on a different nurse gave me some soluble tables (Solpadol) and some liquid Ibuprofen and together they did a pretty good job of keeping the pain in check. Pre-reading about the operation on the Internet there is much talk of morphine and other drugs to keep the pain at bay but I received nothing like this, just Solpadol and Ibuprofen.

I did get some dinner though. She bought me someone elses dinner as I hadn’t been there to order anything. I’d asked for something runny so she bought me mushroom soup and icecream and jelly. I had taken pain killers at this point and by the end of the mushroom soup I was guzzling it down ( I hadn’t eaten or drank for 24 hours by this time). The jelly and ice cream were particularly nice but they took me a long long time and just as I was about the big plate to see what dinner was on it the nurse came and took it away telling me meal time was over. Shame. I did see some runner beans and mash but that’s as close I ever came to them.

Sharon and my sister came to visit me but I was a bit dozy – not tired particular – or maybe too tired – but they put up with me and then they were gone. I was given a nice cup of tea, something I have found very soothing – nice warm tea (I have one now!).

I didn’t sleep during the night – I just couldn’t settle and in the morning after a bit of breakfast (a slice of toast and a bowl of cornflakes) and a shower I was told they needed my bed so I was despatched down to the departures lounge where I sat for about four hours waiting for my prescription to be made up.

So that’s it. Here I am finally tonsil less and adenoid less. I’m looking forward to the post recovery when I start getting the benefits from the operation but people have already commented that my breathing is much quieter now and hopefully I won’t be getting tonsillitis too often again either – and if it’s fixed my sleeping problems then I will be eternally grateful.

The worst thing by far was in the anesthetist chamber which if my weight had been under control I could have been put under straight away but because it isn’t I had to endure something highly unpleasant. A real lesson to be learned there.

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