Things You Should Never Do

1. Research tonsillectomy on the Internet and read posts by people written five days post-surgery. The person who had an easy go of it is not busy posting his easy-peasy experience on the blog. He’s not going to make time to write “This was such a blast, I’m getting another set of tonsils put in so I can get them taken out again ;) ” He’s too busy enjoying his life.

No, the person who is posting is the one who feels like she’s asphyxiating on her tonsil scabs whenever she’s not sipping Gatorade. “I haven’t slept in days. If I don’t drink, it feels like I swallowed 400 jalapenos doused in lava. My teeth have started falling out like I’m the fucking Fly in David Cronenberg’s film.” And this person is topped by the next poster who says she wishes it felt like 400 jalapenos doused in lava. “That would be picnic in the park compared to my agony. Try 7,000 ghost peppers coated in napalm.”  She claims lying down will bring about her immediate death.

You contemplate buying this:

But opt for a Lazy Boy recliner instead.

2. Purchase a Lazy Boy recliner at an actual Lazy Boy recliner store. You would think this would be a simple transaction. You point to the chair you want, you pay some form of compensation, you leave with the chair. You believe you will avoid asphyxiating on your tonsil scabs and you will not have to wear something that resembles the cone dogs wear after surgery.

But no.

There is the finding of serial numbers and entering of serial numbers into a device called a computer. There is the misspelling of the last name several times and repeating of spelling. There is paperwork. A stool sample. There is the ad infinitum mention of Guardsman, a furniture protection plan that “only costs 3 cents a day” because “you don’t want to ruin your new chair with an exploding pen.”

In the time that passes, you could have likely built a chair, destroyed it with an exploding pen and built a replacement chair. You realize you filled out less paperwork bringing home a small human from the hospital.

3. Use an exploding pen. Especially while sitting in your new Lazy Boy recliner that lacks a Guardsman furniture protection plan. You thought it would be a good idea to get your will in order since you are undergoing a surgery that causes everyone to bleed profusely from their gaping tonsil-less craters. You want to make sure your blog is taken care of in case of your inevitable demise from reading too many tonsil horror stories. Then your pen explodes and you think why me? But you don’t write this as your status update on Facebook because you fucking hate enigmatic status updates.

4. Write enigmatic status updates on Facebook. Seriously, who do you think you are? Erica Kane?

What the fuck does that even mean? And now you have a sudden interest in this person who you barely know and only accepted her friend request because you shared a math class 20 years ago. You are so riveted you check back on Facebook frequently to see if there’s any updates.

Oh my god, you wonder, what rilly did happneded between them? By this point, 12 people have commented “What’s wrong?” or “Stay strong, girl.” Hmm.

Then she hits you with this:

Wowza! Wowza is right because eight hours have passed. Eight hours you could have used to search the interwebs to find out how to clean tonsil-crater blood off your new non-Guardsman Lazy Boy recliner. Damn, the tonsillectomy blog recommends Guardsman.

5. Go on the Internet for anything.

About these ads

53 comments

    1. I’m not to that point yet. I’m at the freak-myself-out-to-the-point-of-brain-damage stage. My surgery’s a week from tomorrow. I would imagine most of my posts post-surgery will be “fuck?”

      1. Ah, okay, I thought you had already had the surgery. But you’re still funny as fuck, even in the freak-out stage.

  1. I think your doctors violating your human rights giving you such a long lead time before your surgery. It’s clearly a torture method.
    Also, go to Ryan at Lazy Boy in Canada. He’ll hook you up. Tell him you know me. Post flood, we’re on a first name basis. That warranty is also the best for exploding pens and exploding toddlers.

  2. You always make me laugh. You’ve got a whole week to look forward to your surgery?? Start smoking pot. Won’t help your tonsils any, you just won’t give a fuck anymore. xo

    1. I fear that I’ll be one of those few people who doesn’t relax but become way more paranoid and convinced my tonsils are conspiring against me and laughing at my elasto-gel cervical collar.

      1. hahaha…yeah, you might be right. You could always self medicate for the next week, unless of course you’re expected to go to work and be productive.

  3. Good luck Speaker7. I’m certain you’ll have one smooth trip to tonsillectomy and back, in fact it’ll be so smooth you won’t have anything tonsil-related to blog about. You’ll wish for el James to write another book to occupy yourself with.

      1. I just wanted to distract you and tell you that life could be so much worse, tonsil-independent if you will… :D

  4. I rarely recommend people go the drug route, but it does sound like it might be time. Meanwhile, I’m so glad I never listed myself on Facebook with my maiden name, and that I didn’t fill out the autobiographical information. No one can find me unless I find them first. [Insert evil laugh here.]

  5. Oh, yeah, I’m always being a moron and looking up symptoms on WebMd. I also stupidly joined a support forum before I had surgery several years ago. Of course everyone there post surgery was dying, and one upping each other on the torturous experiences. “And then I was crippled for the rest of my life and couldn’t eat anything but mayonaise and my ovaries exploded and my husband left me and I lost my job and had to go on food stamps except I couldn’t get mayonaise on those and . . .” Yeah, those are always so much fun!

    I recommend watching Wipe Out while you recover. It’s highly intellectual. I especially liked the one where they had cheerleaders competing. It was fun to watch them do little cheers then get the crap beaten out of themselves on the obstacle courses. Either that or you could try TLC. I caught one called “My teen is pregnant and so am I!”. I couldn’t make it through it. Too much learning involved there.

    1. I should be removed from any computer device when it comes to looking for health-related information. I always diagnosis myself with the worst thing imaginable. TLC sounds like the perfect post-recovery cure. I might even be able to down a bowl of s’ghetti doused in ketchup and butter ala Honey Boo Boo.

      1. I actually watched some of that show, too. Now there’s someone you’d like to see lose her voice.

  6. LoL. I hate vague booking too. the rest was hilarious but I have no personal story to add to that. I still have my tonsils…for now. You can be jealous…ya know…if you want.

  7. I always check the death net for symptoms. I have a little cough and the tiny doctors inside my computer link me to their tiny lawyer friends to make a will as I only have 7 minutes to live.

    Go you for laughing in the face of fear. Good luck with your surgery and I hope you don’t get a good enough story to participate in the inevitable post surgery “my pain’s better than your pain” one upmanship

  8. Speaker7,
    Have you thought about having another surgery perform at the same time, to divert the pain and the stress from the long-word-I-can’t-type-just-out-of-memory procedure you’re about to go through? Something like a bone marrow removal, or a circumcision?
    Le Clown

    1. Le Clown,
      Fantastic idea. I’m thinking of getting another appendix put in that I can then get taken out. Of course then I will need something else done during that surgery and that will most definitely be butt implants.
      Speaker7

  9. We’re all out here rooting for you. I would probably be doing the same things you are doing! Remember what you said in the beginning though, good outcomes most likely won’t be found on blogs – although I hope your good outcome does end up on yours!

    Good luck! :)

    1. Thanks. I just had my pre-operation consultation, and it was horrendous so I’m hoping that’s the worst of it. I’m planning on blogging about it later. Let’s just say I received more detailed information from my son’s day care teacher about an upcoming tie dye activity than I did from my nurse practitioner.

  10. But if I don’t go on the internet how will I know what rilly happened between those two? I’m on the edge of my LazyBoy!

  11. I agree with your comments about the internet. Hypochondria and the internet are a dangerous combination. I had a cough, searched the internet and convinced myself that I had colon cancer, sciatica, pneumonia and was pregnant.

    1. Are you sure you’re not pregnant? Have you ever seen that TLC show about people not knowing they’re pregnant until suddenly they’re crapping in a toilet and a baby falls out? Most of them thought they were just coughs too.

  12. S7, you are hilarious and please try to stop torturing yourself by looking up crap on the internet or you’ll just keep being more terrified. Sounds like this person was a bit of a drama queen. I wish you the best (hope the yanking out part of your tonsils go very smoothly) and I’m sure it will. Just coat your throat with soothing ice creams and balms afterward and milk it for all its worth as far as people doing your bidding for awhile.

    Do not google tonsillectomy anymore.

  13. And it wasn’t until reading this that I realized iI have no idea what a tonsil actually is.

    Hope the surgery goes/has gone well, and soon is nothing but a memory.
    Plus I hear you get to eat ice cream all the time for a while, so there’s that to look forward to…

  14. I think you need to find some inner zen if that’s remotely possible — and this advice is coming from someone with about as much karma as a shoe horn. Therefore, you need to think S7-style calming thoughts. Basically relax your runaway mind. You don’t strike me as a happy bunnies hopping in a field type. Therefore, think about wild hares on the loose screwing their brains out then playing canasta then getting hammered. Whatever twisted thoughts that might calm you down and help you get through this ordeal, think them.

      1. You — feeling very giggly — excellent! Now stay that way through your recovery, consider it orders from Dr. Quackenbush!

  15. hey speaker 7!
    I work in a primary care clinic, AND my son had his tonsils out at the age of 16, so I have some experience with this situation. Yes, it is hell for a couple of days. BUT, with good pain meds and a plan (i.e. just have people ready to help, popsicles, the recliner, low expectations of yourself, some hemlock, whatever…). Also, have you ever taken oxycodone, vicodin etc? If you haven’t, you might want to try taking one BEFORE the surgery to see how it affects you. AFTER the surgery is NOT a good time to find out it makes you barf! If you have an unrealistic surgeon, he or she will NOT give you enough pain meds. You will need them for several days AT LEAST. Maybe a week. After that you will be fine. I am so not a drug taker but there is a time and a place and this is it! Talk to your primary care surgeon about being available for refills if necessary. Everything will be okay, and afterwards, you will likely be a lot healthier! Everyone I know who has done it is so happy with the results. Also, it will be such good fodder for your blog! xo misslsited

    1. Thank you. You are one of the few people who haven’t made it seem like the worst decision of my life. Not like I really have a choice…chronic tonsillitis+lifetime on antibiotics that don’t work=organ failure vs. shitty sore throat+two weeks= not so bad in the great scheme of things.

  16. Is there ANYTHING more depressing than a recliner store? Maybe a mattress store. Or a theater screening Twilight. Or seeing a friend liking Mitt Romney on Facebook. Other than that…

  17. The drugs do make you forget, Speaker7. So why not ask for some in advance.

    I am way behind in my post-reading. So I got to all your posts backwards, and things don’t seem to be improving. Imagination + internet sucks at a time like this.

    Seriously, though. You will be fine. I have had 10 surgeries of different levels of severity, including the big one where my guts were completely reorganized by a guy who had only done this sort of thing 6 times (it was new surgery then). It’s terrifying to wait, then it’s over in an instant. You feel crappy for a short while — milk that and let everybody fuss over you. Then you go on with life without being sick all the time. As much as having to have surgery sucks, it is truly wonderful HAVING HAD surgery. Really. I wouldn’t lie to a blogging buddy.

    1. You are right. I need to get my priorities straightened. I feel like I should write a status update like “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  18. Is this why we were supposed to save our cord blood? If someone would’ve told me during childbirth that a deposit to the cord blood bank would one day mean less pain and suffering in the case of a future tonsillectomy, I might’ve stopped laughing for a minute and took it seriously.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s