The bead is out.
I repeat, the bead is out.
It lay in Peanut's nasal cavity for nine whole days.
For those of you who don't know, my two-year old stuck a bead up his nose last week. Everyone seemed to doubt that it was still up there.
Everyone but me.
I knew that yellow bead hadn't made it's way to his digestive tract or any other tract for that matter. I had a feeling it was still tucked away nicely in his nose, perfectly out of sight.
You ask me how I know.
I know, because things aren't done half-way in the Hendrick household.
I know, because I'd already searched through poop for a quarter that Opie had swallowed when he was three. "Stuffing object up nose" was still needing to be checked off of my parent checklist.
The E.N.T. went up and immediately extracted the little booger.
Not the bead. He literally extracted a little booger that was blocking the view to Peanut's upper nasal cavity.
Then he saw it. The bead. Snuggled deep inside Peanut's nose.
Who knew doctors could stick instruments so far up noses?
Who knew a twenty-five pound Peanut could be so strong when you start putting those instruments up there?
For now, the bead fiasco is over. Peanut is safe. And the antibiotics will begin tonight.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to rid my home of anything smaller than a basketball...lest I have to check anything else off of my parent checklist.
I repeat, the bead is out.
It lay in Peanut's nasal cavity for nine whole days.
For those of you who don't know, my two-year old stuck a bead up his nose last week. Everyone seemed to doubt that it was still up there.
Everyone but me.
I knew that yellow bead hadn't made it's way to his digestive tract or any other tract for that matter. I had a feeling it was still tucked away nicely in his nose, perfectly out of sight.
You ask me how I know.
I know, because things aren't done half-way in the Hendrick household.
I know, because I'd already searched through poop for a quarter that Opie had swallowed when he was three. "Stuffing object up nose" was still needing to be checked off of my parent checklist.
The E.N.T. went up and immediately extracted the little booger.
Not the bead. He literally extracted a little booger that was blocking the view to Peanut's upper nasal cavity.
Then he saw it. The bead. Snuggled deep inside Peanut's nose.
Who knew doctors could stick instruments so far up noses?
Who knew a twenty-five pound Peanut could be so strong when you start putting those instruments up there?
For now, the bead fiasco is over. Peanut is safe. And the antibiotics will begin tonight.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to rid my home of anything smaller than a basketball...lest I have to check anything else off of my parent checklist.