Well, it’s been a long 10 days (and counting!) since Jack’s tonsillectomy. I think I have cabin fever, even though we ventured out for a few hours last Thursday (which turned out to be a mistake in the end!)
Jack was on the waiting list for his tonsillectomy for just over a year, even though he was a priority case. We had a date booked in March which was cancelled in the end because the mornings cases ran over. For someone with Jack’s level of anxiety and control this was a bit of a nightmare. Leaving that morning in order to be at the hospital by 7.30am had resulted in a meltdown that seemed to go on for ever (and woke half of our neighbours I would imagine!) and the thought of having to do it all again filled me with dread. Our rescheduled appointment was for the end of May, which gave Jack a whole month to stew about what was in the pipeline.
The morning of the operation I was prepared for anything that Jack could throw at me (quite literally!) and despite his anxiety we managed to get in the car and to the hospital quite smoothly. The wait for his turn in theatre was only a few hours but in that time he controlled everything, from what he would do, who would go in with him, right down to when I could use the toilet. Having a child with such high anxiety levels means that letting him control everything that he possibly can (within safety reasons) is really important. By the time it was Jack’s turn, he was completely in control of me and as a result the going to sleep bit went faultlessly. I used his time in theatre to catch up with Em, who had been in the trauma clinic for a knee check up, and to eat all the food!
Once he was back in recovery a nurse came and said that he’d specifically asked for only me to go up. He was in quite a bit of pain even tough he’d had plenty of pain medication whilst in theatre, although I think most of the screaming and crying we had was his release after being so controlled all morning. Jack knows that I’m his safe place when he needs to explode after somethings been too much for him, and although I hate seeing him so upset, I love the fact that I can offer him that non judgemental safe space.
Jack was determined to be discharged that evening (he takes after his mother!) and much to the nurses dismay we left for home at 6.30pm, 6 hours after his operation. The first few days were spent on the sofa with Jack practically mute. He would occasionally take some calpol but, as expected, wouldn’t take anything else. Over the last 10 days, he’s had two or three nights of waking crying with pain, and more days than not spent not really speaking or eating, but all of a sudden he his found his voice (although it’s a little higher than it was, maybe it’s the swelling?!) and his appetite.
During Jack’s recovery, Ava came down with a really bad bout of tonsillitis (oh the irony) so I’ve spent my days running between the two of them. To be honest, I had more sleepless nights with Ava than I did with Jack. Everyone’s been climbing the walls so we decided to venture out for a picnic last Friday. What seemed like a great idea and something that Jack seemed to be well enough for, ended with Jack exhausted in total meltdown. I’m unsure wether he really wasn’t well enough to go out or wether it was because he hadn’t been out and around people for so many days and it threw him. I think it was the latter, so we’ll have to ease him back in gently this coming week. Hopefully he continues to do as well as he has been and is back being a trouble maker really soon!