Entry one: Approx 6 years old. Brent needs to get a booster shot. It takes both the doctor and I using our 4 arms and 4 legs to keep him still long enough to insert the needle.
Entry two: Approx 6 1/2 years old. Brent sticks a "Pick-up-Snake" (image the game "Pick-Up-Sticks" but more "snake looking") in his ear and now says it hurts. The doctor is unable to get the scope in his ear because he won't sit still. The specialist a few days later has the same problem, and finally they end up doing a special hearing test and determine that he can hear fine, therefore he must not have damaged anything.
Entry three: 7 1/2 years old. Brent goes to get his eyes checked. He wines at the dilating drops, but endures. As the doctor is examining his inner eye, he suddenly starts to squirm and claims he's hungry. He then rips off his sweater, is now sitting bare-bellied, and says it's not hunger, but he thinks he is going to throw up. We throw a coat over his bare belly and rush him out for fresh air. A few deep breaths and we're good to go.
Brent doesn't do pain or doctors well.
Entry four (and the real reason for this post, just thought the history would be enlightening): February 7, 2008. Still 7 1/2. At 9:30pm my 3 children who are supposed to sleeping come upstairs. Devin is laughing, Brent crying, Shannon indifferent. Brent has swallowed a nickel. An American nickel. It now hurts, mid-chest, off to the side; kind of the stomach area, but could also be a lung. We decide to call the tele-health line and after 25 minutes of being assured our call was "important to them", they answered, and strongly urged us to take him in to the ER; because it hurt (it shouldn't hurt in his stomach). I had a busy weekend planned and I decided dealing with it now was easier than when we had a house full of company, so off we went.
But first, having learned ER lessons with Devin and Doctor lessons with Brent, we stopped and explained all the possibilities, and said a prayer asking for courage, and pain tolerance. Worked like the Bible says it does.
The first 2 nurses we saw, thought I was off my rocker, and said that tele-health sends EVERYONE to the ER. But the scare that he may have aspirated it into a lung, although the pain was by now lower in his chest, led them to allow us to see the doctor.
The doctor is a father of 3 sons and assured me that he knew all about swallowing things (and sticking things in places where they don't easily come out of).
He had no problem suggesting an X-ray. "Best to know where it is, and how it will come out," he said. A few minutes later we could clearly see the American nickel lying perfectly horizontal in the small intestine. He suggested we take the nickel off Brent's allowance and sent us home.
Brent was co-operative, enjoyed checking out all the machines in the ER, was fascinated by seeing his insides on the X-ray, and was overall an 'A' patient. I'm just really thankful he didn't have to have a scope put down his throat!
He still won't tell us why the nickel was in his mouth, and refuses to look and see if it has "passed."
Hockey season for the boys drew to a close on March 22nd. The "league" that they play in consists of boys from ages 7-12. They play every other Saturday, doing drills for about 30 minutes and then scrimmage for another 30. No tournaments, no fund raising, no parental brawls, no bank loans to cover expenses. We are just thrilled to have this opportunity for the boys.