We Wanted Ice Cream, But Got Pain Instead 🍦 | by Rupaa🌹 | Introvert Diary | Oct, 2025

When I was twelve, I made a brave (and slightly silly) decision — to remove my tonsils. Actually, it wasn’t just me. My elder sister and younger brother had them too, and because of those tonsils, we often caught fever, sore throats, and endless colds.

So, one day, when my sister started complaining about pain again, we decided it was time. The doctor had already suggested that all three of us should get them removed, so we thought, why not do it together?

At that time, my mother was recovering from a stomach operation at my grandmother’s house. We didn’t want to worry her, so the three of us told our father,

“We’re strong! Let mom take rest. We’ll get our tonsils removed and surprise her when we come back.”

It sounded heroic. (Honestly, we thought we were main characters in a movie.)

We weren’t scared of the operation because everyone told us, “After removing tonsils, you can eat as many ice creams and cool drinks as you want!”
That was enough motivation for us. Childhood logic at its best.

So, one morning, my dad and uncle took us to the hospital. They did a few tests and then sent us in. When the nurse sprayed anesthesia in my mouth, my heart started racing. My sister went first. The doctor gave her an injection in the throat, and I almost fainted watching that. Then it was my turn.

The doctor tried to distract me by asking, “Did you watch Mirchi movie?”
But honestly, I was too scared to even answer. (Who talks about movies when you can’t even feel your tongue?)

After the operation, reality hit us hard.
Yes, we could technically eat ice cream and drink juice — but with that pain, we couldn’t even swallow water without tears. All our brave talk melted away. We cried and cried.

When we got back home, Mom was shocked to see us like that. She had no idea about our little “surprise.” (I’m sure that day, she was definitely shocked.)

That week was tough. My sister couldn’t eat at all, so Dad made juice for her to sip slowly. My brother and I managed tiny bites here and there. After a week, it was time for our check-up.

At the hospital, the doctor asked us to open our mouths. My sister and brother opened theirs just a little, carefully. But me? I was so happy that my pain was gone that I opened my mouth wide, proudly showing it to the doctor — like I was auditioning for a toothpaste ad.

That’s when things went wrong.

After reaching home, I suddenly started bleeding — a lot. Blood just wouldn’t stop flowing. I lost a lot of it and fainted. My dad rushed me back to the hospital, and I was admitted the next day and put on saline drips.

That’s when I realized — my sister, who had been careful and patient, recovered faster than us. My brother and I took longer.

Childhood made us believe ice creams could fix everything, but that day I learned: sometimes being too strong and too excited can hurt more than the pain itself.