"I Ate Money"

Saturday our two year old daughter Aspen suddenly started coughing and then began throwing up. She had seemed fine all day and so I immediately suspected she had eaten something but she wouldn't say. Steph went to the store thinking she was just sick but Aspen kept vomiting. Finally I turned off the TV and made her look right at me, "Aspen, did you eat anything you shouldn't have?" She looked at me with a sad face, I guess feeling a little guilty, and said, "I ate money." I got out a few coins and asked her which kind she ate and she seemed to point to a penny that I held up and she nodded when I asked, "Did you eat this?" I asked her when she ate it but I think she thought I asked 'why' instead of when because she looked up still with her sad face, "I wanted a treat."

I hurriedly looked up online and sadly found out that about the only coin you have to worry about swallowing is a penny. Apparently a penny has zinc which can lead to ulcers-particularly if it gets stuck. I went back to Aspen, "Are you sure you ate this kind of money?" holding up the penny. At that point she looked up again with her sad puppy eyes and about made me cry with, "I'm sure that I love you." I hugged her and decided I would just trust that she had eaten a penny. I called Poison Control who told me to get her medical help.

On the way to the Instacare Aspen threw up again. She threw up again while waiting for the x-ray. The x-ray came back with a giant circle in her neck. It was stuck in her esophagus and while the doctor didn't appear panicked she made it quite clear, "You have to go to the ER at Primary Children's Hospital right now." I hurried to the car and Steph called, having arrived home and said she would meet me at the hospital. Aspen slept on the way to the hospital-which actually made me freak out as I was afraid she had passed out so I would occasionally wake her up to make sure she was okay.
At the ER I saw firsthand the problem of people using the ER as their primary care doctor. The waiting room was packed. I was very lucky that a nurse on her way home from her shift saw me holding the picture of Aspen's x-ray and approached me, "she swallowed a coin, poor thing. I'll get her in right away." and hurried back with her x-ray to radiology. Only five minutes after checking in we were taken back to a patient room.

Aspen through all this was very brave. At first when we headed to Instacare and I told her we were going to the doctor she was excited about seeing the fish. Once we actually got there and she had looked at the fish everything after that was sort of a downer. Throwing up, weird people poking her and rooms full of weird machines probably weren't quite as fun as fish. She was obviously sad but never cried. In the patient room I held her and sang and when I asked if she wanted me to kept singing she nodded her head silently.

While in the patient room Steph arrived with my Dad since Steph left the kids with my Mom. She perked up a little to see her Mom but quickly went back to her somber look. Steph asked her if she wanted to say a prayer and she shook her head and she didn't want anymore singing either.

A radiologist tech came in and took us to a room with a huge x-ray machine. He told us we were going to tie Aspen to a board and a radiologist would put a small tube down her throat while watching her on the 'live' x-ray machine to pull it out. Aspen never cried while being tied to the board and even once they started to put the tube down her throat that the radiologist told her to 'eat like spaghetti'. She cried some once she started to gag but the tube clasped onto the coin fairly quickly and came right out. Once it was in her mouth we turned her on the board to her side so she could spit it out. It was a nickel, not a penny. The technician said it was one of the smoothest removals he'd seen-and apparently this happens quite often-two to three times a week he said. If it hadn't come out they would have had to taken her to the operating room for an endoscopy.

After the coin was out the vomiting stopped and she was able to take liquids. She downed a juice box and almost all of another small juice container before stopping. Within about ten minutes she was starting to smile and laugh.

At home that night while laying in bed I realize that as much as I hate things like that it does put things in perspective. You realize that you can be caught up in the minutia of life and the insignificant details and suddenly the things which are most precious to you can be at stake. Aspen wasn't in serious trouble but I could see how tenuous our safety and well-being really is. It also makes you appreciate the blessing of being in a time with so many incredible advances. I've been reading a book about the wives of Joseph Smith. One of his wives later married Brigham Young and had five children, all that died in childhood of what would now be minor infections and then she died of breast cancer in her middle age. We take for granted the wonderful medical care that has come from the countless hours of researchers striving to provide new scientific discoveries and medical equipment as well as the doctors and nurses and hospital staff that work tirelessly to provide us care. But sadly we know even with having the best medical care in history there are no guarantees. I suppose that realization, brought home at times by major or even minor health scares, reminds us to appreciate our own lives and the lives of those we hold precious that much more.