Friday morning my 18 month old son swallowed my diamond and platinum wedding band. Let me repeat: Friday morning my 18 month old son swallowed my diamond and platinum wedding band. How does that happen you ask?
He was playing “Catch me if you can” after swiping my jewels off the dresser. I was blow-drying my hair after showering. I halted my beauty regimen once I saw the mischievous look in his eyes. As soon as he started choking I performed the infant procedure for removing airway obstructions (pounding his back and fishing for items in his mouth). Success! Or so I thought. He coughed up two stud earrings and one engagement ring. Where is the other ring?
After a hard gulp and a few tears, he smiled and ran off. Oh $#*&%! Trying to remain calm and prevent a panic I thought “Perhaps he didn’t swallow the wedding band but merely dropped it somewhere”. I feverishly tore up the bedroom suite in search of the ring. Nothing. He swallowed it.
I considered the options:
1) Run straight to the ER
2) Call the pediatrician’s office for guidance
3) Finish the blow-drying and make-up application that was interrupted (Am I a bad mother if I finish blow-drying my hair and put on make-up prior to going to the ER?) (Pardon me, I hear DCFS ringing my bell downstairs).
I opted for #2 which resulted in the allowance of #3 (whew!). Doctor’s office said if he wasn’t choking (not anymore!) and his breathing was okay it will pass…literally.
So we waited.
Doctor suggested “lots of juice” to keep things soft and moving. This kid was so hopped up on non-diluted apple-juice… Still waiting. He performed twice each morning and twice each morning I mined for platinum. Still nothing. Doctor did mention it could take up to two weeks. Ugh. How about broccoli and cheerios for dinner kiddo? More juice?
Monday arrived. Still nothing. I’d almost gotten used to the sifting through the soft BMs with leftover corn and peas visible. No platinum band though. Friends started calling and facebooking with horror stories of ER trips and swallowing nightmares. That’s it. I can’t take it anymore! I’m taking him the to the ER to see if it’s “stuck” somewhere. Did he aspirate it back into his lungs perhaps?
After a $50 co-pay and a “full-trunk” film we got the “all clear” from the ER doctor. No ring in sight. Whew! No ring stuck inside baby boy!
Wait! But, I knew this meant one of two things were true:
A) The ring was lost somewhere in our bedroom suite which I’d already searched…twice.
B) The ring was inside a dirty diaper in the garage.
Following a third, almost forensic search, of our bedroom and as I was about to call the insurance agent, Hubby stepped up and offered to search all the poop bags. “Great!” I said, I’ll go buy some wine.” As I was at the checkout I got a call, “I got it!.” Armed with rubber gloves and a screwdriver we struck platinum. Hubby is my hero!
Apparently, midway though the past four days it was passed and resting comfortably. The ring has since been though several cleaning and sterilization processes. And NO, it was not shinier a la Marley & Me.
*Photo courtesy of DeBeers