We found out yesterday that son needs to have his adenoids and tonsils removed too. At first we didn't think he would need the surgery as his tonsils were quite normal. The Ear Nose and Throat doc gave us yet another allergy med and sent us home. When the allergy med didn't work (again) I came back and insisted that he check the dude's adenoids. It was a motherly hunch backed by a whole lot of symptom Googling.
They put a teeny tiny cotton ball soaked with a numbing agent up his left nostril. Then scurried out of the room. I figured out why they made the fast exit when son started screaming. You would have thought they shoved a metal spike up his nose. But he was wailing and screaming because it felt strange and tasted yucky. Since I insisted on this test I felt like the staff surely thought I had Munchausen syndrome and was enjoying the chaos.
When they came back in to put the adenoid scope up his nose the doctor was astounded. "These are enormous! This normally doesn't present this way unless the tonsils are large too!". So score one for mother's intuition! I love a good dose of Benadryl as much as the next mother, but it seemed like the medicine we kept pouring down son's throat never helped him. So I'm hopeful that removing these meteorite sized adenoids will give him some relief.
But I'm totally scheduling this surgery on the weekend. I love son - but I am burnt out on the ER/hospital tour that I've been working since the kids were born. It's time for husband to spend the night making sure the kid doesn't pull out his IV. Lulling the child to sleep only have to the night nurse come in and flick the glaring overhead light on. Or trying to run to the bathroom and back to the bed before the child tries to flee the room.
And son is a particularly exhausting ride. When he was 2 and in the hospital to figure out the cause of his too frequent febrile seizures we discovered he is resistant to sedatives. The doctor knocked him out for the MRI. But the little Houdini woke up, unstrapped himself and crawled out of the machine. Swear to God. We were waving to the technicians (who were all safely behind the glass) to shut off the machine as husband grabbed son.
God I'm tired just thinking about it.