commodorified: a capital m, in fancy type, on a coloured background (Default)
[personal profile] commodorified
I've been hearing about this whole 'tonsil removal and ice cream' thing basically forever. And it puzzles me greatly.

Admittedly, I had my tonsils removed when I was 18, and had had serious trouble with them for years, so it was a fairly complicated removal, but it took me slightly more than a week to successfully consume 2 litres of water within a 24-hour period and thus win my release from hospital and my ever-present IV, yclept Henry. (Not, sadly, "Henry IV": I would totally do that now, but this was then.)

Cold water, as well as even the most forgiving solids, took ... rather longer. There's a reason nobody tells you to put ice directly on fresh stitches, let me tell you what.

Had anyone attempted to feed me ice cream directly after the surgery they would have been exceedingly fortunate to escape having suffered no more than a paint-strippingly old-fashioned look (and only because my throat was too swollen to allow me to talk and I was too loaded on Demerol to throw a punch, at that.)

Therefore:

Poll #17145 In this poll, "ice cream" can also mean frozen yoghurt, sorbet, rice dream, etc.
Open to: Registered Users, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 93


I had my tonsils taken out!

View Answers

I was a child, and there was ice cream, and it was good.
12 (12.9%)

I was a child, and there was ice cream, and it was awful.
1 (1.1%)

I was a child, and there was no ice cream
6 (6.5%)

I was an adult, and there was ice cream, and it was good.
2 (2.2%)

I was an adult, and there was ice cream, and it was awful.
0 (0.0%)

I was an adult, and there was no ice cream.
3 (3.2%)

I retain both my tonsils and an uncontrollable desire to tick boxes.
69 (74.2%)

(Optional but interesting) My tonsils were removed in (year):

Date: 2015-12-01 03:34 am (UTC)
recessional: a photo image of feet in sparkly red shoes (Default)
From: [personal profile] recessional
Ahaha oh god STRAWS FORBIDDEN *facehands*.

I share this story just because: when I got my wisdom teeth out I was not yet admitting/aware of the fact that I had PTSD.

Specifically PTSD related to an experience of being drunk enough to be totally incapacitated (and probably should have been at the hospital), bleary, etc, and falling asleep/unconscious in the presence of what turned out to be deeply unsafe people.

Waking up out of sedation was . . . special. And as I was sitting there sublimating the panic while being totally non-verbal and not actually having emotions beyond "everyone go away everyone go away humans go away from me I WANT A DOOR THAT LOCKS AND NO ONE ELSE", I got the reminder lecture about straws.

. . . I had nightmares about the fucking straws and what they were going to do, and constantly worked myself up into a panic that I'd somehow sucked the clots out et etc. *facehands*

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