Thank You Notes--Tonsillectomy edition

For those of you who follow me on FaceBook, I apologize for the steady stream of posts regarding my son's tonsillectomy. It's kind of been an all-consuming thing around here. But, in the spirit of Thanksgiving, I've decided to give thanks for all the things I've enjoyed during the last week of being held hostage, uh, I mean tonsillectomy recovery. With apologies to Jimmy Fallon, here are some thank you notes.

Dear soft foods,
Thank you for being so smooth and squishy that any member of our family can eat you. Thank you for soup, and noodles, and noodle soup, and scrambled eggs, and Ramen soup. And also for ice cream. Yes, we tried to eat something that wasn't soft one night while we served the patient some soup, but we will never forget the death stares that caused. So, thank you for bland textures. And for overlooking the fact that I snuck out of the house yesterday to eat chips.

Dear Netflix,
I knew we would probably be watching a lot of TV during this recuperation. I underestimated, however, how much we would watch THE SAME THING on TV. Thanks to you, Netflix, we have unlimited access to Power Rangers. Which includes, but is not limited to, Power Rangers SPD, Power Rangers Mega Force, Power Rangers Mystic Force, Power Rangers Turbo, and probably Power Rangers, The Early Years. Yes, thank you, Netflix. Without you, I might have actually enjoyed a TV program.

Dear pain medicines,
Thank you for serving us so faithfully the first few days when the patient's pain was actually quite minimal. You were there every 3 hours all night long when we all should have been just sleeping. But everyone told us we would need you and we needed to stay ahead of the pain, so you were there. I'm still not sure why you chose to start betraying us about 4 days into the recovery, but thank you for the multiple fights you now cause daily. Mixed Berry Kool-Aid with an Ibuprofen shooter or Sprite laced with Tylenol are cocktails no bartender could come up with, but it's what we now resort to several times a day. Followed by coercion to actually drink the mess. So, thanks, pain meds. You work beautifully, but can't you just come in a flavor that's a little easier to disguise?

Dear nurses,

Thank you for what you do and for the loving way in which you do it. You have been given the spiritual gift of mercy and I am truly grateful for that. Recently, I have come to realize how difficult your daily jobs must be. Because I have realized I could NEVER be a nurse. You see, PTs have other qualities. We are much better at saying, "suck it up and do your exercises!" But I now understand that just yelling at a 5 year old to "suck it up and take your medicine" doesn't really work. Yes, I hug him and speak softly and try to empathize with how much I know he must be hurting, but my mercy has its limits. My husband has always said I am a horrible nurse. Now I know he is correct.

 Which brings me to my final thank you note.

Dear Baby Boy,
Since you came to us when you were 3, I never had the joy of an infant. Which meant I also never had the sleepless nights. Thank you for helping me to relive your infant days by waking up crying inconsolably every 1-2 hours. I do feel sorry for you when you wake me up, but that dissipates a little when you are back asleep 60 seconds later and I'm still wide awake thanks to the adrenaline you've caused me to release. I am usually able to fall back asleep. Just in time for you to wake up and do it all again. Thanks for that, son. Years from now, when you are a soundly sleeping teenager, I'm going to periodically run into your room and scream and the fall quietly back to sleep.

Finally, some serious thank yous. Thanks to all the friends who have called or texted to check on us. Thanks to the deliverers of ice cream and toys and movies for him, and treats and coffee for me. Thanks to my in-laws for taking a turn watching the kids so we could escape the house some last week. And thanks to my husband who can be tough when needed (see the aforementioned medicine fights), but who also can be incredibly tender when the situation calls for it.

I already had huge respect for parents of kids who require daily meds or who are dealing with serious illnesses, but this gives me a whole new level of respect. This will all be over in a few days. And that's definitely something to be thankful for.