After picking up my mom from her apartment, we headed up to the surgery center and checked me in. I was a little nervous, but I still had the feeling that the surgery wasn't actually happening.
Not too much later, we were taken across the courtyard to the actual surgery center. I had to change into a gown-hairnet, socks, and all-and other SOPs. In another, smaller waiting room, a woman gave me an IV and it hurt, even when I wasn't moving my hand. Dr. Osborne and the anethesiologist both came and talked to us and I raised the question of them being careful since I sing. My choir teacher had advised me to tell them this, as had researching online. I asked them to use the smallest tube possible when intubating me and they did.
Finally, it was time to go back and as soon as the woman walked me through the door back to the operating room I started to cry. I was just really nervous about what was about to happen, and a little scared. I laid down on the table and started humming to calm myself down, alongside praying to God that everything would go smoothly.
The same woman who gave me the IV put something in it to make me relax; at the same time, Dr. Osborne put the anesthesia mask over my face and told me to 'breathe deeply'. I did, and after a few breaths, my brain, my whole face and throat, and IV arm felt like they were on fire. I'd stopped crying by that point, but I started again from the pain, and I drifted off.
When I came to, the nurse was telling me I needed to wake up. I sat up, got dressed, then was taken out to the car via wheelchair. At home, my mom set me up in bed where I pretty much was-or on the couch-for the next three days.
I had a Chuck marathon with my mom, who was over all week, which was nice because I got caught up on some episodes I'd missed. I also learned more about my father, who has never been present in my life.
It's been ten days now and I've been feeling fantastic since Wednesday, except for one incident that involved me and an empty stomach. It's a little strange not having my tonsils anymore because I've always been able to say 'I still have my tonsils', but not anymore. It's like when I turn a new year, but I keep wanting to say I'm my old age.
I'm just happy to say that my first surgery was a success and I hopefully won't be having any more for a long time.