Say Ouch

(before pic)

We heard all of the warnings. Getting your tonsils out at this age sucks. It's a big deal. It's gonna hurt. For days. Yeah, yeah, I thought, but Shana will be alright. She's strong. She's healthy. She'll do fine. I was wrong. This is bad. We're on day four and it's getting worse. The poor baby sleeps like 20 hours a day. She's totally drugged up most of the time and hasn't eaten more than five bites of mashed potatoes and a little bit of a Wendy's Frosty since Wednesday. She had some visitors the first couple of days, but now she's texting them all away, too tired, no voice. I feel so helpless, but today, after I got shushed from singing the "Lollipop, Lollipop" song (as I was bringing her a prescription-strength $10 cherry flavored throat numbing sucker), she whispered, "Thanks for taking such good care of me."

And then one of us felt a little bit better.