Okay, I know that I tend to exaggerate a little. A lot. A lot lot. But this time, I'm totally serious! I've never been so scared! Except for maybe the time when I was working L&D and my most unfavorite short doctor AROMed this lady and had a cord prolapse. That was pretty scary. But I would go out on a limb and say that this was even scarier, mainly because it was my baby. And that prolapse happened a long time ago, so I'm sort of over it.
This happened yesterday.
I hate Tuesdays! But everyone was being super well behaved, I'd already worked out, everything was going smooth. Shoulda been a red flag! Big kids were playing upstairs in Scott's room (they like to lay baby dolls in the closet and cover them up with blankets and turn off the light. They're not very bright, those big kids of mine.) Anyway, I dumped the baby in my room and hopped in the shower. I could hear him playing, and didn't think twice when he made his way into the bathroom because he likes to open and close the drawer where I keep my hairdryer, and he likes to play peek a boo on the shower curtain. Regular baby stuff.
So. You know how toilets are screwed into the floor? And they have these white plastic caps over the screws so that you don't see the big ugly screw? They're slightly smaller than ping pong balls or golf balls, but not round and hollow in the middle. So when I get out of the shower, Warren looks up at me with one of those things in his mouth.
My heart immediately skipped a beat. He wasn't panicking or acting up or anything, but that thing was all the way in his mouth, behind both his top and bottom gums. He was breathing fine and still crawling (scooting- he still won't crawl! Not very bright, that baby of mine.) and having a good ole time. I tried to stay calm, grabbed him up and brought him to my bed. Still soaking wet and totally in my bday suit, in case you were wondering. I told him to spit it out. He didn't listen.
So now I'm really freaking out. I mean, it's BEHIND HIS GUMS. Like, stuck between his jaw and the back of his throat. I tried to just gently wiggle it out, but his jaw was like clamped around it. All I can think of is him starting to freak out (because he's bound to notice I'm freaking out!) and tipping it back and blocking off his airway. And since I'm a nurse, I'm imagining all kinds of horror stories- me trying to trach him with an ink pen, the big kids watching helplessly as I kill their baby brother-it was awful! So I'm reaching for my phone to call 911- literally. Like, I really was going to. By now I'm crying because our house is on a brand new street that doesn't show up on GPS and we don't have a land line, so I'm trying to think of how I can give the operator directions to the house, because once he stops breathing, a trach is the only way he'll be saved, right? Oh goodness, I'm shaking even remembering it!
So now he's screaming as best he can around this fricking toilet-screw-cover and I finally just jam my fingers in there and wrench it out, because I can't bear the idea of having to wait for an ambulance! Can you believe how stupid I am? What if I had pushed it back even further? And I seriously think I dislocated his jaw, pulling it out. My poor baby!
So, moral of the story? You know how they tell you that your kids can choke on anything small enough to fit through the cardboard from a roll of toilet paper? Guess what readers: YOUR BABY CAN CHOKE ON ANYTHING SMALL ENOUGH TO FIT THROUGH THE CARDBOARD FROM A ROLL OF TOILET PAPER!!! Three kids under my belt and I'm just now realizing this. Seriously. Scariest Day Ever.