Why didn’t anyone tell me this would be hell?

Next year I’m embracing radical honesty. If my friends had done the same in 2018, I’d have been prepared for the fact my toddler’s tonsillectomy would unleash 10 days of hell, writes Zoe Curtis.

I’ve had it up to pussy’s bow with being a member of a secret society I never actually wanted to be a part of.

And chances are you’re in it too.

This society isn’t the Freemasons or Scientology and it doesn’t have an official name but it has nevertheless swept across our suburbs and infiltrated our social media feeds, taking our naivety and our self-respect in its wake.

I’m talking about the secret society that sees so many of us channel Hyacinth Bucket of Keeping Up Appearances fame in an effort to project to our friends, our family, our acquaintances and even the world at large that we’re fine. So fine. Nothing to see here, this person/life/family is just perfect.

I’ve had enough.

It’s seems no one can speak the truth until someone else says it first. Wives will only spout about how hubby is such a great dad until some else admits theirs is absolutely useless with the housework and snores like a freight train and then all of a sudden it turns out Mr Dad-of-the-Year is a bit of a Dad-who-drives-me-up-the-wall too.

Childbirth? Oh, you’ll fall in love with your baby as soon as you see its beautiful eyes.

Zoe Curtis' toddler Ettie with dad Rodney on her way to have her tonsils out.

The recovery was 10 days of agonising pain for the little one.

Really? Actually I was doped up to my eyeballs and had a bad reaction to the drugs I so desperately needed and couldn’t even hold mine until hours after, at which point I was too tired to notice if my baby’s eyes were open or shut. Oh, you too. Hmmmm. Funny about that.

Now I’m usually a no nonsense kinda gal so I wised up to this palaver a while back but I was reminded just how ingrained in all of us this deception is when I was sucker-punched by it again in the wake of my toddler’s tonsillectomy.

Pre-op, the mums in my circle who had gone before me kinda warned that we might be recovering at home for a few days before my girl was back to 100 per cent but the overwhelming chorus was “kids bounce back so quickly”, and “it’s so much better to have them out as a kid rather than an adult”. Cool, I got this.

RELATED: Tonsillectomy leaves kids in as much pain as child birth

Then the damn things came out and we got home from hospital and reality hit. Hard. My daughter was in excruciating pain for about 10 days post-op and we were initially so shaken by her extreme pain levels that we paged our surgeon at 10pm on a Friday, only to be told what she was going through was “normal”. And when I went back to clarify with those same mums who had reassured me only a fortnight earlier, all of a sudden I was flooded by admissions that “days five through to 10 are the worst” and that the aftermath is indeed “hell on wheels”.

Ummm, excuse me. Pre-op you all gave me the impression this would be beer and skittles.

Ettie ahead of her tonsillectomy.

Not back-to-back does of Panadol, Nurofen and OxyContin for wayyyy more days than the packet says is safe (don’t worry, this extended dosing was recommended by the surgeon. But, still …).

These late-to-the-party truth bombs reminded me of the time I walked Italy’s Cinque Terra. Pre-walk it was all “it’s amazing” and “it’s a must-do”. But somewhere on the outskirts of the middle town of Corniglia when I was covered in sweat, blisters and flies I wished my “friends” had actually warned me the world-famous track is more of a hike than a stroll and that it really wouldn’t be a good idea to wear bathers, a skirt and a pair of Havaianas.

So, what gives? Why is it we seem to hate speaking the truth until someone else says it first? Is it because this Insta-obsessed society has trained us to only enjoy looking at the forest if the trees have been filtered and edited to within an inch of their photoshopped lives?

Of course, this movement I want no part of does have a few notable exceptions. Social media blogger Constance Hall has built her reputation on keeping it real (sometimes too real) and there’s always a celeb or two in my Insta timeline jumping on the #makeupfreeselfie bandwagon.

But, overwhelmingly, the bulk of us just can’t resist keeping up those appearances and I for one have had enough.

I’m declaring 2019 the year of living life #unfiltered, and husbands, home life and the horrors of raising a toddler will all be fair game. We’ll call it the Secret Society of Keeping It Real and sorry Hyacinth Bucket (pronounced “bouquet”), but you need not apply.

Zoe Curtis is a freelance writer.

@Zoe_Curtis_