Why I'm not cut out for nursing

You may not know that before this glorious career in motherhood and housewifery I was dead set on medicine. I even used to show my dates pictures out of my surgical textbooks. I think they're fascinating, I don't know why so many of them gagged. Gimme a break. Fortunately I have these weird opportunities to continue my education in this job of wife and mother. Did you ever think that being a nurse could be so fun? Yeah, me either.
Attention: Portions of this story have been edited or excluded to protect the dignity of all parties involved.

First some back information. Tod has had strep 5 times in the last 6 months. In other words, he had a throat like a petri dish. Gross. He even felt so generous as to share with the rest of us on a few occasions. Again, yuck. After seeing the ENT he was told that the time was well past when he needed to have his festering prune-like tonsils removed.

Tod- So can I have them out on a Friday and get back to work on Monday?
Dr- (shock and reserved laughter) Uh, no. At least 2 weeks my friend.
Tod- (shock and reserved tears) Okay.
And it was scheduled.

Tax day we got up at the not-so-sunny hour of 4:30 to get the kids to their various babysitters and make it to the hospital by 6. Thankfully my prayers were answered and everything went smoothly that day. The kids were calm and cooperative, the surgery went smoothly, and we were home at lunchtime. I wasn't nervous. I was confident in his Dr., the staff was kind and professional, and Tod was so drugged that I knew he wouldn't remember anything anyway.

When he was in his room recovering, drinking ice-water he said the fated words:
"I feel good enough, I think I could go back to work!"
Maybe it was the Demoral talking. Yup, I'm pretty sure it was.

Let me first say that I love my husband. I LOVE HIM! He is the center of my universe, my best friend and any other mushy thing you can think of.

But this nursing thing stinks. Adult tonsillectomy might very well be the worst surgery in the world. Pretty sure Tylenol 3 doesn't agree with Tod's stomach. Found that out the hard way. Cold feels bad but warm feels worse. The bigger the tonsils were, the bigger hole they leave behind. Scabs in the throat...well, that's all I'll say about that.
Tod is pretty sure that he's had the equivalent suffering to childbirth. No comment.

I feel bad for him. I don't have much of a bedside manner. I am more the "suck it up" and "rub some dirt on it" mentality. My kids will probably be scarred for life because I think cuts are exciting. There are few things, blood or pain that ruffle my feathers. Frankly I am more bothered by lizards. Now if it was a lizard in Tod's throat, that would get a rise out of me! Mostly I resent that I couldn't be there in the operating room, and that the nurses talk to me like a high school drop-out. I know how to use the PDR as well as they do, thank you very much! Off the soapbox...

So today marked the beginning of the second week of his convalescence. It has been a hard week in so many ways, obviously. But in many ways it has been a blessing (don't tell Tod). I have made several trips to the store for various comfort items...alone. That's right, no children. I have been to a few baseball games...alone. It was a wonderful thing to see Josh get an AWESOME hit, see the pride his coaches had, and watch him get the game ball after the win. He was so proud of himself, it brought a little tear to my eye. Jack has been allowed to sleep in the bed...that's right, IN THE BED! Tod has shared his bed with a dog, and unprecedented event. I think he feels a camaraderie with the barkless animal- maybe he has had throat surgery too?

I keep telling Tod that eventually, he will have his baby- the blessings of a lack of tonsils- and the pain will be over. Until then, I'm keeping a pleantiful stock of ensure, ice-cream, applesauce, malt-o-meal, soup, jello, pudding...you get the idea! Maybe we'll run out and I'll have to run to the store again...(wink, wink).