How would you envisage the perfect start to term in a boarding house? I suppose it would be a feeling of preparedness beforehand, a smooth integration of new kids, good meetings with parents, plenty of excited returnees? Well, we did have most of that, but read on to discover what else we had on day one of term...
I'll set the scene first. It's just shy of 6.00pm. The three of us are in the main entrance of the house, greeting and chatting (well, Joshua's not so much greeting and chatting as just playing and climbing up the outside of the stairs). Suddenly, he comes to me making some odd noises and odder faces, and exclaims, "Daddy, I've eaten my money." My first response? "You silly boy". I should point out that he wasn't choking, struggling to breathe, looking like he was going to start vomiting or anything like that. "It hurts", he said, followed by, "how do we get it back?". We wait, I told him. Anyway, we headed off to have tea, which he was too tired to eat, and then I put him to bed. He was out like a light at 7.00. I figured I'd have a bit of an early night, having done some lesson preparation (yes, I'm teaching again...) and was about to turn in just after 10.00. I thought to myself that perhaps it would be friendly of me to check with the all-knowing internet what to do when your child swallows a coin. So I went on Google and typed in, "What do I do when my child swallows a coin?". Well, given that the first few sites were American, I was being repeatedly advised to 'consult your pediatrician'. "Really?", I thought. I mean, he seemed absolutely fine to me. So I rang NHS Direct. They were insistent that he should be taken at once to A&E. This was despite the fact that I pointed out that he could breathe, eat, drink, and was currently FAST ASLEEP. They remained adamant. So I 'phoned the local A&E. It's a huge hospital, and they have a separate children's A&E. I figured I'd outsmart them ... "Would it be best if I brought him in in the morning, so he could be x-rayed if necessary?". But they weren't so easily swayed. "No, we can x-ray him now if we need to - bring him in." (Am I sounding like a mean parent here? I was just aware that he seemed fine and was sleeping quite soundly.) So it was about 11.00 o'clock that I got him out of bed and put him in the car. He woke up, somewhat predictably and, equally predictably, was a little confused about what was going on. I explained we were going to the hospital because he'd swallowed a coin, and they might want to take a picture of his tummy to see where it was.
Well, we got to the hospital and were signed in. We hadn't even sat down in the waiting room when Joshua was called up. "Great", I thought, "this'll be a quick one." We went into exam room 4, and the nurse produced a metal detector (seriously!). We explained that we'd find the coin with it, so Joshua dutifully stood still while it was waved over his chest and tummy. After a while there was the distinctive 'bleep' of a metal detector having found a coin (I'm glad we weren't due through any airport security this week!). It was just below the breastbone, which she felt was probably the right place (the wrong place being the end of the wrong pipe - at least he'd swallowed it rather than breathed it in!).
And yes, she was a little surprised when I asked to take the photo.
Having established where it was, she said, "I'll write that down, and then the doctor will decide whether or not to x-ray ... there's a bit of a wait I'm afraid."
"A bit of a wait?" I thought. "Surely I'm not going to have to still be sitting here at midnight?!"
Anyway, to cut a long story short, at 1.00am, Joshua was getting increasingly persistent with his "Daddy, can we go home now", questions. A little while after 1.00, the doctor came to see us (we'd spent a bit of a time in a 'quiet room' we'd found, which had the lights off and the door closed. Much nicer than the chaos of an A&E waiting room). She did the metal detector again, and concluded that it had gone down the right pipe, and would be out again in due course. The first and only time the NHS has given me a money-back guarantee...
So we crawled into bed at 1.30, proud of the NHS, but not particularly impressed with Joshua's timing!
The next morning at breakfast, our resident matron looked over when we walked in and, with a beaming smile on her face, asked, "any change?"
