My daughter Julia will have her tonsils and adenoids taken out tomorrow. She’s six, and for the last couple of years, I’ve noticed that she has periodic sleep apnea that gets worse when she has a cold.
A couple of weeks ago, I noticed that she’s getting an underbite, too. I googled it, wondering whether we’d be putting her in braces, and learned that an underbite can be the result of mouth breathing. She is a mouth breather, so that freaked me out; the treatment for an underbite, apparently, could involve years of braces, and then surgery to break and re-set her jaw when she finishes growing 10 years down the road.
So I rushed her to her pediatrician, panicked about her underbite, and the news got worse. The doctor told us that sleep apnea in children can lead to heart damage! it makes sense, if you think about it: their little hearts have to work harder when they’re not getting a steady flow of oxygen at night, and over time, their hearts get enlarged. Luckily, the pediatrician said we’re nowhere close to that point yet, but she sent us to an ear, nose and throat specialist.
The ENT we saw asked Julia a few questions, and basically determined that she needed her tonsils and adenoids removed just by listening to her speak. To us, Julia sounds like she always has, but apparently there’s a certain “stuffy” quality to her speech. He looked in her mouth, too, of course, and said that her tonsils and adenoids are definitely blocking her airway.
So tomorrow we’re off to Childrens Hospital of Minneapolis for outpatient surgery — a tonsillectomy and adenoidectomy, or ”T&A,” according to the fun-filled comic book he gave Julia to read. With any luck, we’ll be home by 8 or 9 o’clock tomorrow night.
The procedure she’s getting is a modified or partial T&A, and it’s supposed to be much easier than the tonsillectomies of 20 years ago. The surgeon won’t take out every last bit of the tonsils and adenoids. Instead, he’ll just take most of them, leaving little nubs in place. It’s supposed to hurt a lot less, and recovery is usually 3 to 5 days, as opposed to a week or two. It’s a good option because her tonsils and adenoids aren’t infected — they’re just too big. They might grow back this way, but given that we’re not being driven by illness, I don’t think that’s a problem.
I hope it goes smoothly. I’m a little nervous, of course, about the whole process. She’ll be under anesthesia for the operation, which is a big deal. Afterward, I’m worried that she’ll be tired and sore; I hope I won’t have to hold a crying child for a week.
Which reminds me: popsicles! I forgot to buy popsicles at the store today! I bought pudding and apple juice for the aftermath, but I totally forgot to get popsicles and ice cream!
Of course, that’s what dads are for.
POST-OP UPDATE: Everything went well. The surgery started early, took less time than I expected, and Julia spent about three hours in recovery before we went home. Thank you for your notes of support!
