Thursday, May 29, 2008
About half an hour ago, I was at a neighborhood pizza restaurant with Sister, her two kids and their two friends. Sister asked me to keep an eye on her kids while she used the restroom.
I was in the process of sternly asking one of them to climb down from the skeeball machine when Son tugged on my sleeve. I shook him off and kept my focus on the skeeball climber. He tugged again. "Stop it, Son," I said, giving him the shake off again. Finally I turned to him, ready to sternly lecture him, as well.
Son stood at my side, a horrified look on his semi-cyanotic face, trying to speak, trying to breathe. Choking. Niece had asked me if Son could have a starlight mint. I said yes. He then tried to get my help and I brushed him off.
Before I could even form the thought to do the Heimlich, he coughed the piece of candy up. It went shooting across the room. Then he vomited, all over his neglectful mother.
"I'm sick. I need to go to the doctor," he cried.
But I am a doctor. And your mommy. And not very good at either right now.
"No you don't, sweetie," I said, cuddling him, "that was scary, wasn't it?"
He's fine now. Incident forgotten. But I'm still shaking.
Posted by Fat Doctor
Labels: Fat Doctor, the doctor mother
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That sounds absolutely terrifying. Of course it wasn't neglect - we can't always be 100% focused on what our children are doing, but in times like these, it feels like we should.ReplyDelete
The thing is, I think being a (terrifed) mother trumps any practical doctoring impulse in us at least for a moment. I'm pretty sure if he didn't cough it up right then, you would have stepped in. Without thinking.
We all draw the line in a different place about what are absolutes versus what we counsel our patients to do but don't necessarily do ourselves. In our dual pediatrician family, we plan for the kids not to have any hard candy until they can drive to the store and get it themselves. Must go now, I think my 4 year old may have taken the car keys...ReplyDelete
It's awful to think that your whole life can change in the twinkling of an eye; not by our neglect, but by mother overload.ReplyDelete