Same Day Surgery

It's considered a very progressive invention, same day surgery, but in the nineteen fifties, it was all we had in a town with no hospital. Two of the doctors had a clinic, actually no more than a suite of offices. One acted as surgeon, the other anesthetized the patient.

My tonsillectomy was done there. I was eight. They started me counting as I breathed in ether. Dr. Howard kept saying, 'Don't believe she'll get to 50.' I reached 50 and stopped. He said, 'fifty-one' and I kept one with no recollection of anything past that until I awoke in whatever little cubicle they used for recovery. Doctor White asked them to wait until he returned from lunch which allowed time for the effects and nausea of the ether to wear off. There was discussion when he returned about who would carry me to the car: my 15 year old brother, my mother or the half-sister who was driving us. Doctor settled it by carrying me out himself and gently placing me in the car. I wore a pink quilted housecoat that zipped up the front and considered myself quite fashionable.

Once home, I refused to speak, ate ice cream and was generally spoiled. Another half-sister came to visit, bringing her six year old son. As our mothers talked, they missed the children. A brief search turned up the patient and Jeb, who had slipped out the kitchen door and were outside playing atop the pumphouse.

My own children spent one night in hospital when they had tonsillectomies in the late 'sixties. Now we're back to same-day surgery. Interesting.