Let’s talk tonsils.

So, tonsils.  They’re these things that don’t apparently do much.  I say apparently because they must be there for a reason, it’s just not apparent to us what it is yet.  The sole purpose of mine seemed to be the harbouring of illegal rabble-rousing bacteria who contributed to regular throat infections.  Pharyngitis, laryngitis, you name it, and I’ve had an -itis in it, and it probably meant antibiotics and losing my voice, or worse- finding my voice sounding like a chain-smoking truck driver, one that HF affectionately named Frank.  

So about my tonsils.  They’re gone now.  But they are making darn sure I won’t forget them.  SubhanAllah for your health, Alhamdulillah- the ability to do something as simple as swallow is a blessing that you don’t appreciate until unable to, you end up spitting blood into tissues while your body convulses in pain.  I am not being dramatic.  I am being honest.  Alhamdulillah, I think the worst may be over, but that could be because my orthopedic surgeon (who had nothing to do with the tonsillectomy)  saw me this afternoon for a follow-up and graciously prescribed me a shot of painkillers.   He’s a Good. Person.  
Around half an hour after the shot, I was able to see the world a little more optimistically, as well as swallow my own spit, and once the warm numbness spread throughout the rest of my throat, HF and I hightailed it to Tony Roma’s, where I had my first meal in three days.  I washed it down with three huge glasses of iced tea.  That was four hours ago.  The pain killers will be wearing off soon, and I’m guessing that my outlook on this whole tonsillectomy thing will get much bleaker when it does, but for the moment, I think I’m ok.   Iman is sitting on my desk eating cheerios and laughing just a few inches away from the keyboard.  Khalid and HF are out dropping off Ruth- it’s her day off, and she’s worked hard juggling both kids while I’ve been out of commission, and she really needs the break.  
My brain feels a bit fuzzy, and I’m pretty sure that this blog entry will make less sense later than it does now.  Also, thank God for spellcheck.  
The End.


Abez is a 50% white, 50% Pakistani, and 100% Muslim. She is also chronically ill and terminally awesome. She is the ever-lovin Momma of: - Khalid, a special little boy with autism - Iman, a special little girl with especially big hair -Musfira, an especially devious baby Spoiler, Abez is also Zeba Khan on Muslimmatters.org.

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