The Reynolds Family: Deep Throat

Scotlen's real present came the day before her birthday in the form of a tonsilectomy and adenoidectomy, otherwise hilariously known as a T&A. The surgery itself went swimmingly. The staff at Vanderbilt Children's was great, welcoming us and explaining everything in such a way that Scotlen did not even blink when they wheeled her away from us to the OR. After a few brief tears in the recovery room, she bounced back quickly and was downing popsicles like her Daddy stealing toiletries at an expensive hotel.

POD #1 (a/k/a her actual birthday) also went pretty well. She was taking her pain meds on a regular basis and cheerfully opened presents that morning. In the late afternoon and evening, however, things took a turn for the worse. By the following afternoon, she was refusing all food and drink. We had to force her to take her pain meds, and then she started throwing up. POD #3 saw us headed back to Vanderbilt. Several fluid boluses, some morphine, and some Zofran later, she actually started talking again and took a little juice. But it was a good 36 hours before she was improved enough to take home this afternoon.

We are sincerely hoping that she has now turned the corner and is on the road to full recovery. It sure is nice to have her smile and voice back again. About the only thing I could do without at this point is the breath. The post-op instructions warn that your child will have "the worst breath of her life," and there's a cute cartoon of a child with a puff of green smoke coming out of his mouth. This does not even begin to do justice to post-T&A breath. It basically smells like a decomposing carcass, which I suppose is about what it is. It will flat out make your eyes water. But you know you love your child when they ask you to "sleep" in the hospital bed with them, all the while cuddling face to face with mouth breathing. In the words of Mimi, that is "love is."