The Tonsil Tales

The Strep Saga

It was a sunny day in August when it started. The chills, the fatigue, all the signs of a fever. Transparently, I was excited for an excuse to stay home for the evening, even if it was because I wasn’t feeling well.

Fast forward a day or two to the sickest I’ve ever been in my entire life. A sickness COVID dreamed of being. A fool to trust my own immune system, I waited weeks before going to see a doctor. In true Madi fashion, it wasn’t until I was coughing up blood and looking at flights to Greece for my final days, that I thought antibiotics may be in my favor.

After 2 weeks, 1 round of antibiotics, and down 10 lbs, I was pretty much good as new.

Until…

2 weeks later. It was back. Exhaustion, chills, the sorest of sore throats, coughing up phlegm like it’s my full time job. Unenthusiastically, I found myself back at Urgent Care.

I’ll spare you the details, but this vicious cycle continued for 5 months. 5 doctor’s visits. 5 rounds of antibiotics (RIP my gut biome).

The Diagnosis

Alas, I get a referral to the Ear, Nose, Throat and Sinus doctor.

After months and months of the same thing, hours of sitting in the waiting room, getting on a first name basis with the pharmacy, I finally made it in to see a specialist. He took a glimpse at my ears, nose, and throat (who would have guessed) before coming to the conclusion that the only solution was to remove my tonsils. I learned that antibiotics kill 99% of the bacteria, but tonsils can act as some sort of petri dish for the remaining bacteria and that’s why I was unable to get over this infection. I was in and out in less than 30 minutes.

The Removal

This may come as a surprise, but I was pretty eager to get those bad boys out.

It turns out, things can move pretty quickly if you play your cards right. After calling my insurance to move along the approval process, I was scheduled for the following week.

The day of the procedure honestly could not have gone any better. I was so fortunate to have my brother take me to my first ever surgery. While everyone in the waiting room seemed unsettled, we were cracking jokes and making the best of the situation (the situation was me being hangry). He got to hang with me all the way up to the point I got my silly juice and was being wheeled back.

15 minutes later, I had a popsicle in my hand I was like 2 oz lighter. Another dose of who knows what and we were headed out.

The Recovery

Back at my brothers, I was feeling like a million bucks.

I was so excited to be able to eat eggs and get food in my system to keep the drugs a little company. I was yapping up a storm. All was good.

I always imagined the healing would be linear – really rough at first, then gradually better each day. I was so wrong.

The first day was a breeze, the second a little unpleasant, but following days…. goodness gracious.

They say days 3-5 and 8-10 are the worst because the scabs fall off and the wounds open back up. And they were soooo right. The first time was unpleasant, but the second was actually miserable.

I have never spent less time talking in my entire life. The only thing I wanted to do was sleep – which honestly worked out because I had been way behind on my zzz’s. I spent the first 4 days slipping in and out of a slumber, my best friends being a weighted blanket and the world’s comfiest couch. I feel so grateful to have the support and care from my family or I simply would not have survived.

Today

As you can imagine, the strep saga took a huge physical, mental and emotional toll.

It was a vicious cycle of healing and rotting. Getting back into my routine, then falling out of it.

I am almost 2 full months post-tonsillectomy (what a fun way to start year 27) and I’m so grateful to be feeling much better, but I still have so much to catch up on.

As always, stay tuned!