I remember when Son turned 3, and I thought “Oh, good, now don’t have to worry about him swallowing things.” You know how everything with small parts isn’t recommended for children under the age of 3? I though, for some first-time-mom-stupid-reason, that this meant he wasn’t going to be putting random things in his mouth anymore.
Yeah, right. 5 days after he turned 3 – FIVE DAYS! – he swallowed a penny. I’ll never forget it, he came to me and said “Mommy, I ate a penny.” Me, never really eager for a trip to the ER, needed more convincing. I asked him where he put it. “In my mouth,” he replied. “Where is it now?” I asked. “In my tummy.” Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.
Turns out, there would be more to do with shit, but more on that later.
So we took him to the ER. He wasn’t gasping for breath, but I was nervous because I didn’t know where the penny was. The good folks at St. Margret’s took an X-ray, and I have a lovely memento of my son’s intestines with a penny traveling through them.
We were past the Danger Zone, as long as it had cleared his airways and entered the stomach we were good. We also learned that kids swallow all kinds of things and pass them regularly. Which brings me to the next part. Yes, the shit.
We were instructed to check his diaper for the next, oh, well, however long it look to find the penny. Awesome. It was even more awesome when we shared this news with the day care. Imagine their joy in not only changing another kid’s shit, but now having to sift through it.
We never found it. I’m sure he passed it at day care and they never looked for it. I don’t really blame them, it was a shitty job.