The Observer Newspapers | Bring on the Ice Cream

June 20, 2008

Bring on the Ice Cream

When I was 6 or 7 years old, I had to go into the hospital for several days. Nothing too dramatic. There was something wrong with the way my bladder worked, and 33 years later the only thing I'm left with is a scar across my belly.

But I clearly remember lying on a gurney and being wheeled down the hallway to the surgery room. The nurse parked my gurney just outside a set of doors and then went inside, presumably to help ready the room before my entry.

There was another patient a little bit older than me who was in a gurney just across the hall from mine, and he turned to me and asked what I was going in for. "I'm getting my tonsils out," the boy proudly told me, "and I'm going to get to eat all the ice cream I want."

I don't recall saying anything to the boy, but he just kept talking. "You should get your tonsils out. It's going to be totally cool!" As a nurse came back and started pushing me down the hall, the boy yelled out. "Hey, ask them if they'll take your tonsils out too so you can eat lots of ice cream!"

I actually remember wishing I could have my tonsils out, like it was something all the cool kids were doing and I would be cool if I did it, too. I was willing to trade my tonsils, and apparently spare no side effects other than having to eat lots of ice cream, for a higher degree of coolness.

I've always wondered what kind of shape that kid was in after the surgery. My son was not too happy after he had his tonsils out last Friday.

It's difficult to prepare a child of 3 for something like this. Charlie has always been very good with doctors, so he approached the surgery just as relaxed as he would be at the pool on a Saturday. And the farther the surgery gets from today, he feels better and better.

Tonsilectomies have changed over the years. People my parents' ages recall staying in the hospital for a couple of days. People my age recall staying in the hospital overnight. Today, it's an out-patient surgery. We didn't even go to the hospital, choosing the Fairfax Surgical Center instead.

But some things are still the same. Trying to plan what Charlie would want to eat while he recuperated, we planned dishes of soup, yogurt, small pasta dishes, and stocked up on Popsicles. Since the first day, when he eagerly chowed down on Popsicles, he's asked for nothing but ice cream.

Maybe getting your tonsils out isn't so bad after all. I think Charlie's older sister might be a little jealous, too. Hey, what could be worse than eating ice cream all day?