Apparently this IS an emergency by Victoria Casey
So you're on time, ready for the nursery run, kids dressed, hair brushed, relatively reasonably presented, having yourself a wee in silence whilst the 4th Peppa of the day is on and then......
'Mummy, Patchy eated a penny....'
Were the 5 short words that frantically blurted from my daughters mouth as she dragged her brother into the kitchen. Red eyed, white faced, the look of utter terror shining from his every orifice. The world stood still at this point whilst I evaluated what was important. Number 1. Check breathing. Number 2 ring husband.
So I'm on the phone to my surgeon husband. Id like to add at this point that the immediate family of doctors are forbidden to be ill. He tried his best to keep me calm and reassure me that he was breathing and that was the main thing. So you can guess what I did next. NO YOU CANT. It was the workings of a mental person. I did the school run. I bloody did n all. I took my 3 year old child to the school, nursery took off her bag and coat whilst Patch was covered head to toe in copper smelling vomit. The teacher asked if he was ill. 'No i said' hes just swallowed a penny. The judging eyes. Id rather the judging eyes though than carting a terrified 3 year old around a hospital all day.
It was at this point that he started to sound like a Pee Wee Herman / Mr Bean mash up. Drool pouring down his face. Offers flooding in from concerned parents of a lift to the hospital. 'No thanks I replied, we'll be fine, so off we went calmly and alone to our local A & E .
On arrival at A & E with my partially choking Mr Bean I politely listened to the receptionist discuss her coil with her workmates and actually apologised to her when I had to end this conversation. We were then rushed through the stages very quickly. Apparently this IS an emergency. Patchies Daddy arrived from theatre in time for the x ray. I laughed when he removed my sons t-shirt and exposed the vest that used to button underneath but I had trimmed into a crop top because it didn't fit and I thought I was being thrifty one day (so many parts of this story make me look like a horror)
Ok. So X ray results... THAT IS A 2P.
Shocked and terrified and astonished that he was sat there breathing we were told he would need to go into theatre ASAP. We were put in an ambulance, blue lighted to a larger hospital and rushed through to sign paperwork and put him to sleep to get the bugger out.
The 'putting him under' was the worst. He fought it, he was crying, he looked like he hated me and he was terrified and so was I. I have so much admiration for the brave mums and dads who have to repeatedly endure this if their babes are poorly. It was the worst moment of my life.
So apparently anesthetic relaxes you. The 2p slipped into his stomach. Surgery aborted. What next?
POO IT OUT.
Next moment of terror. How is he going to poo it out? Hes tiny!! A tiny dot of a 2 year old with the bum hole of an ant. It made me sad thinking about him pushing out that 2p. The next week was spent sieving poo. One day the poo turned to blood and another x ray concluded that the 2p was gone! How could my foolproof poo investigation fail!! Anyway failure or not the 2p was gone and that was all that mattered. He was checked over to make sure it hadn't damaged him inside and after a few hours we were allowed home.
As weird as our story sounds I wouldn't change what I did. Except maybe the crop top vest creation and listening to a little too much of the coil story. Sometimes you have to wait at the doctors or in A & E and yes, its annoying especially with children but if it is serious you are guaranteed their full attention. My husband stayed in hospital that day and completed his theatre list because he had full faith in his NHS colleagues and he knew it was more detrimental for his patient if he cancelled.
I never did find the 2p.