When Superheroes Run Amok

From the perspective of a four-year-old, tonsils and their adenoidal sidekicks are kind of like superheroes. Usually they lie in wait in the back of your throat and behind your nasal passages ready to fight any germ that dares to invade your body through your nose or mouth.

But once in a while, because there are adverse forces in the universe, their super powers run amok. As a result, the tonsils and adenoids can harbor recurrent infection or grow so large that they inhibit normal breathing. When this happens, they can disturb sleep, interfere with eating, and, in general, worsen a kid's overall quality of life.

My littlest grandson Heero knows all about this.

When this brave little guy had his tonsils and adenoids removed last month, I got the chance to spend several days with him as he recovered. That experience sent me online to learn more about those renegade superheroes that, in his case, had caused so much trouble. That process led me to some interesting tonsil facts that I share with you here in the event that one of us makes it to Jeopardy and needs to run the category on The Immune System.

Answer: More than 530,000
Question: In America, how many children under 15 years old undergo tonsillectomies each year?

Answer: About 80%
Question: How many kids who have obstructive tonsils removed experience definite improvement in their quality of life? (https://www.choc.org/health-topics/kids-tonsils/)

Answer: 3,000 years ago
Question: When was the first tonsillectomy thought to have been attempted?

I am glad Heero had this procedure in 2018 instead. I doubt that the vinegar-milk concoction worked very well in stopping the flow of blood. I'm putting my money on cold cautery. (Rosenfeld, Jordan. "10 Fascinating Facts About the Tonsils." Mental Floss. 23 Aug. 2017.)

Answer: The technical name of a surgeon specializing in ear, nose, and throat issues
Question: What is an otorhinolaryngologist? (I tell you this before you get to Jeopardy so that you can practice the pronunciation. I don't want Alex Trebek to make fun of you.)

Ask Heero what the worst thing about having a tonsillectomy is, and he will tell you it is taking the medicine for the ten days afterward. For some reason, he hates all the kiddie Tylenols and ibuprofens, even the ones flavored like cherry and bubble gum. Go figure.

But we can already tell that the surgery has enhanced his enjoyment of life. He looks healthier. He seems happier, more content, and more outgoing. He embraces everything we do with a new kind of excitement.

No question about it, Alex. For Heero, life is definitely better without tonsils.

Naked Man

Look!  Up in the sky!  It's a bird . . . it's a plane . . . it's . . . Naked Man?  Since when did this pint-sized hero join the super lineup?

Actually, Naked Man is a super anti-hero.  Pooh calls him a "bad guy."  Naked Man is a persona that Pooh invented himself, and it is Pooh who plays the role to perfection.

You will be relieved to know that Naked Man is not totally naked.  He started out that way, but then his mama laid down the law:  He had to wear at least his jockey undershorts, she decreed.  Luckily for drop-in company and in the unlikely event of a surprise visit by the Division of Family Services, Naked Man agreed to these terms, and added a few other components to the costume as well.

One is the long foam sword with which Naked Man terrorizes anyone in close proximity, most frequently his sisters.  Baby Bootsie is most often the victim, and, were the sword constucted of anything but foam--casusing it to bend into a right angle at the point of impact--she would have needed several sets of stitches by now.  When not in use, the sword rests vertically at the ready tucked in its "underwear holster" (another Poohism--could you guess that?). 

It is also a requirement that Naked Man wear boots.  These may be any combination of  Pooh's recycled winter galoshes--all black, but one pair gray-soled and the other red.  Naked Man may or may not wear a matched set, but whichever ones he wears are rarely on the right feet, thereby giving the super-villain an even more ominous appearance.

Optional to the get-up is a red Superman cape that virtually floats on the air behind Naked Man as he scurries to supplant good with evil.  Not optional in the least, however, is the scowl, a word we ran onto in a storybook and have practiced at great length since.  It completes the visage of Naked Man to a T.

Due to the event of a new baby in the household, I had cause to spend most of last week in the threatening presence of Naked Man.  He was a fearsome foe indeed, and I was fortunate to escape alive.