Well, Oliver and I had quite an exciting Wednesday morning this week. It's taken me over two days to finally calm down about it and post about it.
I had my first experience with the paramedics. Boy am I glad that 911 exists. And were they ever fast!
So let me back up a little. It was a normal Wednesday morning. We had blown Kevin kisses as he left for work out the door, and I was wondering what I would do to fill the time up sans tantrums before we could go to storytime at 10:30. I made my way into the bathroom to try to put some make-up on and comb my hair, and of course, Oliver followed me, and rather than fight about mascara and lipstick with him, I decided I'd go start dishes or start packing his diaper bag, so I walked into the kitchen, fully expecting him to follow me. Oh, my stars, he must have found something to entertain himself for five minutes, because I found myself alone at last with the dishes. I started to fill the sink up with hot water, turned around and saw Oliver running toward me with a red face, gagging and choking. I had no idea what he was choking on--I grabbed him and turned him on my stomach and started pounding him on his back--a response that I don't think he had been expecting or that he welcomed very much, because he started screaming in between chokes and coughs and gags. I was praying outloud for some kind of help, I felt so helpless. He vomited up what appeared to be some popcorn, and finally (it seemed like a long time, but I think it couldn't have been a full minute) I dialed 911. Gave all my information through a wailing, coughing, gagging, vomiting child, and within a few minutes an officer showed up, and then the paramedics came in, but by then I think Oliver was all right. They checked his oxygen, didn't get a great reading, but said he appeared fine, had me sign a release form and strongly advised me to see a pediatrician or go to the er. which I did within 20 minutes because thankfully they are just down the street from us. (I opted for the pediatrician, as the ER scares me what with the scary stuff going on and the expense--not that I've ever actually stepped foot in an ER, but I've seen enough television....heh)
I wish I had waited at least until the end of the day, because the pediatrician said Oliver's lungs sounded fine, and they checked his oxygen levels, which were okay, too. but that afternoon Oliver started wheezing like nobody's business, and hasn't stopped since. Sometimes it sounds like there are simultaneous in and out breaths or something, it is the strangest, and most disturbing thing. I still worry about him, but I think I'm just being an over-anxious mother, the doctor said he was fine, and so did the paramedic, so he's probably just fine. I just can't help having visions of popcorn kernels stuck in his lungs forever.
Lest you think I am as negligent as it sounds, what with allowing Oliver to eat popcorn, well, confessions: actually I AM that negligent. The popcorn was in the trash, and he actually got it out of the trash and ate it. And earlier that morning he was sucking on a few marbles, which is why I panicked so much when I saw him chocking, I was certain he had found another marble. I guess it's high time we childproofed the place. What will I do then? Oliver doesn't play with his toys. I guess it'll just be more following me around constantly, or destruction of everything so I can get a moments peace (or dinner made). Or maybe it's high time I introduced Oliver to movies or tv so I can actually get something DONE around here. Or at least thumb through a catalog and eat a cookie, for heaven's sake.
