Mommy, I fink I swallowed it

Yesterday was an eventful day. Why? you ask .... let me count the ways.

Small Boy and I had breakfast at McDonald's yesterday AM as a treat for sleeping in his own bed all night the night before. (and no potty accident, bonus points, woo hoo!) As usual, I had coffee only since (say it together) .. there is nothing I can eat there. Except hash browns but they are uber bad for you and besides, I'm uber sick of them. So, Small Boy had pancakes and sausage (3 sausages actually, he got one extra on the side, his and he stole Wheeler's sausage off the to-go order I got for him). Just as we were finishing up and about to leave, he stops chewing, looks up at me and holds his plastic fork up. It was missing a tyne. So I said "Spit everything into my hand!" and held out my hand. "Ev-ree-fing?" and said with a mouthful of pancakes "YES". So he leaned down and spit out an enormous amount of food. I picked through it all (yes, it was gross) but found no fork tyne. Just as I was to tell him to open his mouth again, he said "Mommy? I fink I swallowed it". Then he touched his throat and did the crane thing, stretching his neck around. "It feels funny in my froat". I gave him some milk and told him to take a big, big drink hoping it would wash down and not pierce his esophagus. He did, it apparently went down. 

We got in the car and I was driving him towards school when I got thinking about perforation and such things. It was plastic, but still, it was the pointy part of the fork and the part that pulled off left a ragged sharp edge. Silently swearing to myself for not keeping the evidence in my multi billion dollar lawsuit against McDonalds, I called the pediatrician. I explained the situation to the nurse and there was a small moment of silence. She said "welllll, I'll have to ask the doctor about that, I'm not sure what to say to that!" (since it would not show on an xray, etc). She called me back quickly and the doctor said to have him eat alot, chew it particularly well, and to drink alot of fluids. And to bring him to the ER immediately if he had any kind of stomach pain. GAH! So I took him to school and gave them those full instructions, gave them my phone numbers, his dad's phone numbers and I wrote my phone number in black Sharpie across his forehead. OK, I didn't really, it was an ink pen. Ha. 

It was at that point that I realized I'd forgotten his backpack and that it was "respect" day and he was supposed to wear a yellow shirt. So I zoomed home and got his backpack and fruitlessly searched for his single yellow shirt. I took his backpack in the school and chatted again with the staff and the morning's adventures and that it was my fault he was not wearing yellow, so could he please get a sticker anyway, etc, etc and I went back to the car. I put my purse in the other seat and then realized I WAS STILL WEARING HIS BACKPACK! Ugh. So into the school I go, and this time merely punt the backpack in and say nary a word as everyone laughed. Only me.

So then I bolt back home because I have a doctor's appoint in 45 mins and I have to take care of Wheeler, feed him, take a shower and drive to the doctor. I managed to do all of that and I got to my appointment 1 minute early. Except that the fire trucks I had observed screaming down the road ahead of me back about a mile were now parked at my doctor's office building. Which houses a surgical suite in the basement. The firefighters were pulling on their gear quickly, the fire alarm was urgently beeping through the whole building, the fire hydrant was on and several of them were poised to drag the hoses in. One of them said something into their radio and then zoooom, they went into the building with their fire hoses. I observed all this from a sensible distance of at least 500 feet away .... I mean, hello - there is a surgical suite downstairs - do you have any idea of how that stuff could blow in a fire? Everyone else was milling around on the sidewalk in front of the building. But not my doctor, I spied him an equally far distance away but on the right side of the building ... smart man, I knew then I'd made an excellent choice in doctors.

After about 20 mins, they gave the all clear and everyone wandered back in. Actually many people went back in before the all clear signal was given. HUH? I went in and sat in the lobby area of my doctor's office. When I walked in, there was a massive man, probably 400-500 pounds - no exaggeration - sitting on the bench in his office. I said something about the fire stuff just to make conversation when he informed me that he had not moved, that he was only going to leave if he actually saw the fire. Oooooo-kay. Right about then, a very tall and very thin man came in and waited for the receptionist to come to the desk (they weren't back yet). As he paced around complaining about no one being there, I told him they probably weren't back yet from the fire alarm. Being clueless that there had been a fire alarm (despite the presence of 4-5 emergency vehicles still out front and firemen still milling about in the building) and he said "WHAT? So it's okay for us to come in but its not okay for the doctors (note: in a sing songy voice on the word doctors) to come back in??? I see where the priorities are here, no one care about ... " (it was at this point that I stopped listening, doing a mental la-la-la with my fingers mentally in my ears. So I'm in there with conspiracy-clueless guy and I-won't-leave-until-the-flames-lick-my-feet guy. Grrrrrrrreat.

I blanked out on the rest, all I know is that I saw the doc and came away in a cast boot. AGAIN!!!!!!!!!! For those who have not been intimately involved in every aspect of my life, I broke my heel bone last Sept and ripped the fascia tendon at the same time. I ended up having surgery on it to fix it. Fast forward to now, I have an unrelated highly painful problem in the same damn foot. I have an extra bone in a joint. So he has to hack it out. In a cast boot until surgery (probably first week in Sept) and then a cast for 2-4 weeks after, limited weight bearing and then 6-8 weeks of PT with a cast boot. He said it's a rather big deal surgery - translate: it's gonna hurt like a mofo. (the doc is a pal of mine, he actually said "it's gonna hurt like a motherfucker"!). Grrreat. 

I'm pretty sure something else weird happened yesterday but I'm trying not to remember.

OH!!!!!!!!!!! WHEELER'S CHAIR IS HERE WHEELER'S CHAIR IS HERE WHEELER'S CHAIR IS HERE!!!!!!!!!!!! Holy smokes, it is suuuuuuh-WEET! The headrest and chin control thing are very Star-Trekky excellento. When I figure out how to post photos, I will. It is way awesome. The only downside is that it silently slinks across the floor with a barely perciptable 'ssss' sound. Now he can sneak up on me dammit. His old chair (Bessie) creaked and groaned every step of the way so I always knew where he was and his progress throughout the house! Damn, I'll have to be more sneaky now since he can be. Small Boy is very excited about the new chair. He demanded a ride in it already.