I know some of you have been dying to hear this story since I gave a little teaser of it in my Halloween post. Lets see...where to start....
Parker and I were hanging out on my bed because he was as little sick and I was a little tired, so I broke my rule (as I occasionally do) and we were watching cartoons. (My favorite, by the way, is Super Why. It is repetitive and predictable, but the characters are so darn cute.)
Parker always wants to get into things that he shouldn't and at this point he was going for the lamp on my nightstand. He has the weird fascination with lights. Whenever one turns on, he freaks out and points as hard as he can. When he starts to cry, sometimes I carry him over to a light switch and let him turn on the lights. He is happy in no time. No joke. Ok, Back to the story: He crawls over to my messy, messy nightstand and he successfully attempts to get into everything. I literally pull him back to the center of the bed and I notice he grabbed the lid from my deodorant (I have everything but the kitchen sink on my nightstand). "Meh," I think and I let him play with it.
When Parker is really tired or sick he sort of just collapses into a lump of chubby goodness. He was in his collapsing mode so I layed him down in the center of the bed. The next thing I know, he was choking. It was possibly the scariest thing that has ever happened to me. I didn't know what he was choking on, but he would go a little without breathing while he was gagging and it would then be interrupted by short bouts of crying hysterics. I was glad when he cried because I at least knew he could breath. Some more gagging, then some more crying, a bit of praying on my part and then a few gulps to finish it off.
I realized he had swallowed something, but I had no idea what...sure my nightstand was covered with catalogs, hair accessories, pens, pencils, markers, pretty much any type of writing utensil, deodorant, candles, etc. etc. but surely there was nothing chokable there. Then I looked around and I thought, "uh, oh." I looked at my finger, looked back at the nightstand and realized that my wedding ring was not where I last put it. Crap. That can't be good. I searched and searched, but to no avail. "It must be in Parker's stomach."
I called the doctor's office and told them the situation. After a little chuckle, the nurse asked,"Are you serious?" Yes, unfortunately I was. They fit me in as soon as possible and we got an X-ray that confirmed my suspicion. After the doctor looked at the X-ray, he asked me, "Does your ring have several diamonds along the band?" You could see the ring perfectly, sitting in his little stomach just below his tiny ribs. "Just check the poop." That's the only advice his doctor gave me.
The next day we put Parker's lovely poops in a Ziploc bag. I gave it one squish and found my beautiful ring covered in feces. Matt, for some reason, volunteered to get it out of the bag-o-fun. He really is the best husband. I scrubbed it a little, ok, a lot, and now good as new. Actually just the week before I was commenting about how I needed to clean my ring. I procrastinated. Well, I definitely had a reason to clean it now.
I apologize to anyone who received the picture text from Matt of the Poop Bag with the ring. No one should have to see that.
PS The picture is not Parker's X-ray. It is of an adult. I'm going to try and get a copy of the actual X-ray.