This new procedure, formerly known as a tonsillectomy, rocks if you’re worried about the complications associated with gastric bypass. But before you bolt to the ENT, there are a few things you should be aware of:
1. Thrush. Babies who get thrush are hardcore. If they could speak, their first words would consist of four letters. I don’t know what the long term emotional implications are for those poor little babies, but I can tell you that my therapist will be hearing about thrush for at least the next six months.
2. Tongue swelling and disfigurement. A side effect caused by the medieval clamps used to keep the skinless muscle out of the way during the bloody, raw removal.
3. Pain. I had never before now been over a ten on the 1-10 pain scale. The first week after surgery, I commonly hit 13. Pretty impressive.
4. Loss of taste. I lost the ability to taste sugar. I ate four M&M’s last night. And all four tasted like pee. Then I tried to eat a fudgesicle. Pee. Cheesecake. Pee. You would think I would stop trying. But oh, how I remember the wonderful taste of sugar, and I’ll never give up! Never! Two bites of pee popsicle never hurt anyone anyway.
5. Plus the feeling that I have hot dog chunks stuck in my throat. Still three weeks later.
You know what is delicious these days? Broccoli and spinach. And Brussels sprouts! Basically vegetables that actually do taste like pee taste like cream puffs.
The first week after surgery, I could not sleep because of the acidy build up of baby fungus ravaging my delicate throat membranes and tongue. I could not take pain medication because swallowing felt like stabbing my neck with blunt objects. I could not eat. If I did manage to take pain medication without food, the pain meds would nauseate me because that’s what happens when you take narcotics on an empty stomach. Good times!
The doctor put me on anti-fungal medication and steroids. The next three days, I suffered from Roid-Rage. How can one have the worst sore throat since Diane Rehm got a Morning Star stuck in her throat, ears searing in pain at any jaw movement, no food, no sleep and still clean the entire apartment in 45 minutes? Steroids.
Two weeks after the surgery, the doctor said, “You don’t look good. You look like you had surgery a week ago. You’re healing very slowly.”
I said, “I think I have hot dog chunks stuck in my throat.”
He laughed at me. But I made him look.
“I promise,” he said, “You do not have hot dog chunks stuck in your throat.”
“That’s good because I haven’t eaten hot dogs in months,” I said.
So far, I have lost ten pounds. And since I’m still loving disgusting vegetables and hating delicious desserts, I may be losing more. I fit into my pre-marriage-rock-it-single-jeans.
I didn’t know that a simple tonsil removal would change my nature, my lifestyle. You will no longer read posts about banana split pie or Halloween candy. I’m sorry that you won't be able to laugh at my sweetened misfortunes, at least not for a while.
As for me, I think this is a gift. I have found sweetness in bitterness. Bring on the alfalfa! And don’t cry for me fellow sugarholics. The truth is, I’ll never leave you. My taste buds are bound to fall off the wagon eventually.