This is a personal anecdote of the whole experience with my very first surgery from before till the end of the day.
The day of surgery
I woke up at 6. None of my alarm has rung. Probably the anxiety just woke me up on time. Got ready in 30 min, drank a glass of water and off me and my parents go to SGH. Once there we were trying to find the place to register and after walking for 15 min finally, we got a queue number in the crowded room. FYI this is 7 am. A little less than 2 min later a nurse comes in calling my name telling me to follow her and asking my parents to register on behalf of me.
I went to see the doctor — after asking me all the generic questions, she informed me the surgery was going to be for 30 min and they’ll keep me in for 1–3 hours to monitor me for the anaesthesia to wear off. While she was examining me, I was wondering if they’ll check my throat before they actually bring me to the operating room — this was a concern coz I saw some white spots today before leaving my house, which meant my tonsils may be infected. But nope, the surgery will carry on no matter what.
Maybe due to my previous admission thru the emergency room, I became the priority as the accompanying nurse told me that I’ll be the first patient to do the surgery and gave me the hideous baggy surgery scrubs for me to change into.
My parents came in the waiting room awhile after and nurse #2 a short while after to bring me to the op. Parents couldn’t join as it was a sterile area and only authorized people could enter. Once we went up I was placed on the bed where nurse #3 a nice old Filipina lady came to walk my bed to the op room. On the way — she was telling me her personal experience regarding tonsillectomy and what I should do after. Weirdly the scene exactly felt like one of those hospital series where the patient (camera) sees the ceiling while going to the op room.
The anaesthetist assistant first joins and then the anaesthetist herself (a pretty lady) joined me. She told me she was going to put the IV drip on me and tied a tourniquet so tight my hand started to hurt. She gave me the injection to numb the area first and then the real injection to put the IV. No blood. Stupid thin veins. She had to take it out and said she will do it again. The same painful process and FUCK again no blood.
At this point, a hungry and nervous me broke down for a good 2 minutes before I realised I can’t lose any more water (I was fasting for 8 hours at this point). She then told me she’ll try to see if a vein pops in the other hand and will only poke if she sees one. I told her no need to numb the pain just go straight for it and SHE DID. Honestly speaking, I’ve taken the whole poking thing many times now but god damn this was VERY PAINFUL.
And finally. Yes. The blood. Was flowing. But damn my hand hurt even after. After a short while, they brought me into THE room. A Chinese lady and an old Indian man were the surgeons. They moved me in a swift movement to the operating table with a wheel sort of mechanism where I didn’t even need to move a muscle. Once on the table, the assistants started to wire me up and the Indian guy said he was going to give me oxygen first with that mouth thing. I felt claustrophobic once that was on me. Then I suddenly felt a hot sensation going up my right hand and I panicked coz it was like a shock wave accompanied by a huge surge of pain.
I heard the Indian doctor saying not to put it through the needle and they’ll gas me up instead. The doctor then proceeded to tell me I’m going to smell something different in the oxygen tube and to breath it in heavily. One breath. I’m still calm, talking and asking how long has he been around. He said he looks young doesn’t he and I went “yes yes super young like you’re 20” sarcastically — the whole room burst in laughter. He told me to take another breath after. Still nothing… yet. And one more breath and he told me to hold it in. I was holding it in.
Next moment I was waking up with some noises which always turns into a dream before I wake up officially. Super groggy, super dizzy. I felt like I couldn’t move a muscle. The first question — are you in pain? Ah doy!??? My throat felt like the time when I actually had severe tonsillitis. So when the surgeon came and told me that there was probably a chronic infection so the surgery actually took longer than expected — I immediately went “the tonsils are gone tho right” and he said yes. Thank goodness!!
Once I understood exactly where I was, I told the nurses to contact my parents who’ve been waiting for my news. They proceeded to bring me to the ward and again I told them whether they have contacted them. One of the reasons to this urgency was also my phone and glasses, which was with them. I think the nurses thought I was blabbering or something as until I told them my belongings are with them — I need my glasses to SEE, one of them finally said she’ll call them once I change into the ward clothes. Changed into another hideous (but pastel pink this time) scrubs.
An hour later, my mom came into the room happy. She was actually shocked that I could talk right after the surgery, which I didn’t realize I was doing until then. She reminisced the time her own tonsillectomy experience, which happened 34 years ago when she was 18 — where she couldn’t talk for a few days and she was in so much pain. Maybe… just maybe I ended up having a high tolerance to pain after 3 times of severe tonsillitis? This pain in comparison was actually not that bad.
Regardless I felt this was sure to be an experience I needed to jot down — as there was so many information on the internet that allowed my anxiety rise exponentially before the surgery. Hopefully, my personal experience written in such details will be comforting to the next adult who was to go for such a surgery in SGH in particular, as I can’t vouch for any other hospital and that they wouldn’t have anything to worry about!
(Also here is an image of how normal vs inflamed tonsils would look like — surprisingly from my 2-month long experience, I realised many didn't know what tonsils exactly were)
