Not my favorite childhood milestone

Linus has snored ever since he was a baby, but recently the gentle grunting was replaced by old man snoring, old man shake the house, shivers down your spine snoring.  After spending the night in the same room with him during our trip to Vancouver, Dave and I realized that maybe it was getting serious.  I have no idea how Eileen sleeps in the same room as him.

I called the doctor on a Monday morning and got a same day appointment.  He said the tonsils looked big, could probably come out, but that Linus might outgrow it.  He also gave us a referral to an ENT.  The following Tuesday we saw the ENT.  Before even looking at his throat, she asked if his voice "always sounded like that," that is to say, muffled and nasally.  After a quick exam, she declared his tonsils and adenoids needed to come out and wanted to know what I was doing next week. 

This morning, one week later, I took my son for his first surgery.  I realize that getting your tonsils and adenoids out is almost a rite of passage.  I vaguely remember getting my adenoids out and tubes in at three.  Dave and I were both feeling pretty zen about the surgery, although I wonder if it was more shock that we were experiencing given how quickly everything was happening. 

In preparation for surgery, Linus and I picked out some new toys at the toy store and lots of books and movies from the library.  We read the book, Goodbye Tonsils, to help learn about what was going to happen.  The night before, we went out for goodbye tonsil and adenoid cupcakes.

red velvet cake pop. yum.

Eileen was happy to help celebrate.

I was a bundle of nerves all night long and barely slept.  This morning we got up early and took Linus to the surgery center.  My sister took care of Eileen. 

Dave got to go into surgery with Linus until he fell asleep.  Linus was not a fan of surgery fashion and ripped off his gown.  The doctors put it back on him once he was asleep. 

Thirty minutes later Linus was out of surgery.  When the doctor came out, she exclaimed that his tonsils and adenoids were HUGE.  We had to wait a few more minutes before we could go back and see him.  When we did, I nearly burst into tears.  It was so emotional to see my sad little boy, cradled by the nurse in a blanket.

I held him the entire time we were in the recovery room.  There were lots of tears from both mommy and Linus.  He was not a fan of his IV and just wanted to go home.  We were able to go home about an hour and a half after the surgery.

Most of his was spent snuggling with daddy on the couch.  Movies were watched.  Books were read.  Ice cream was eaten. Tears were wept. His cousins sent him a wonderful care package with get well cards, stickers, and a specially designed coloring book with Star Wars, Peter Pan, and Nemo.

Linus spent most of the day with a sad, forlorn face.

Upon this writing, Dave was struggling to convince Linus to take his pain meds.  It pains me to see my baby in pain and so sad.  It's also a little hard to know he just wants his daddy and not me.  I'll be glad when we are through with this little milestone and hoping there is still some ice cream and pudding leftover.