When I was about five or six years old, my tonsils and adenoids were extracted. I don’t remember what my symptoms were to cause this, but I knew something very bad was going to happen. I was not allowed to go outside to play; the dining-room table was opened all the way up and covered with a newly washed bed sheet. Oh, yes, something definitely was happening and I knew it had to be bad. I get chills, even today, when I remember this because my operation was goings to take place at home!
The real scary part came when the doctor came into our house, took off his jacket and vest, and wrapped himself in a white coat. I knew it was a doctor because I had been up to his office a few days before where he examined my throat, sticking a flat stick down my open mouth. I think I was still in my bed clothes when the deal happened, and nobody paid attention to me when I wanted to get dressed.
The last thing I remember was being laid on the table, and a smelly piece of gauze coming down over my nose & mouth. Yech!!!
But, I’m almost sure that I got ice-cream the next day.