Tonsils – Any Objections?
If no one has any moral/ethical.practical objections then I plan to remove my own tonsils at some time in the next minute and a half so they can stop screeching for attention like the evoltuionary throwbacks they are, and I can get some goddam sleep!
Tonsils are the most useless thing in the universe.
Cue hordes of biologists pointing out that they do, in fact, serve some sort of ill defined and ill starred purpose
This the sound of me killing biologists using my tonsils.
Stop the pedantry.
Anyway, I accept mine have never really been as spectacular as some. I think there's a certain traumatic element though to them. I have worryingly distinct memories of being very young and living in London (somewhere I left aged 4 and a half) and seeing a rather miserable looking friend out the car window whilst my mother explained that she'd had her tonsils out. Clearly this was not an experience I wanted to endure myself. And it must have been a traumatic day and memory as I remember my brother being very young and my only other dateable memory from that time is having my head x-rayed which is also going to be quite high up on the mental and physical trauma rankings.
So an inherent fear of tonsillectomy (which I have micraculously spelt right, first time, apparently) not helped when my best friend in school had near constant tonsilitis for about five years which involved showing me said tonsils. A normal throat would resemble the picture below left. Hers resembled below right although at the time she was the only vegetarian who wanted me to be an ear-nose-and-throat doctor so I didn't know if was just want most vegetarian throats looked like.
I've since learned that the white bits are not the result of too much celery (although the desire in my friend to become a law student at Durham was traced back to a rogue batch of cauliflower that she ate one winter's afternoon) but were the sign of bad tonsils of doom which had to be removed. Well, I cannot see down my own throat and my camera phone has no light on it, so we won't be able to check the golf balls in my throat till tomorrow morning. A shame as despite this trip down memory lane (via graphics tablet avenue and Photoshop crescent) I am not quite tired enough to sleep despite the pain.
Next best source of narcolepsy? I'm going to read the Money section of the Guardian. Sleep will be soon in coming…