I am now officially outing myself as Mother of the Year. It takes a strong willed, self assured woman to admit to spending $250 of hard earned cash on your child's fart.
This story does not start off as funny. I was woken to the sound of whimpering and crying coming from the boys' room. C.J. was hysterical. He was doubled over in his bed in severe pain. This is the child who sleeps so soundly that he does not wake up from the shrill alarm of the smoke detector. I knew something was really wrong.
I removed him from his room, brought him into my bathroom and investigated the situation in great detail. C.J. was complaining of abdominal pain, and he could barely stand upright. His belly was distended, hard and it hurt him when Jeff touched it. We tried to get him to poop but he did not have to go. He self reported that he pooped earlier in the day. When your kids self toilet it is a mixed blessing- you are spared the details of their every visit to the bathroom, but when there is a problem you are out of the loop.
Based on his level of pain it was clear he needed medical attention. I scooped him up and off we went to the Emergency Room at Children's Hospital. I drove downtown after midnight with my poor baby whining and crying the whole way. He was really suffering. When we arrived at the ER there was no place to park. The lot was full, the others were closed and there was not a space of street parking within the three blocks I circled twice. I was getting more and more pissed off as I could not find a place to ditch the car and get him treated. Finally, I just pulled along the portico outside the doors to the ER, left the hazard lights blinking, and tossed the keys to the security guard as I ran inside.
The intake nurses did a quick check as I gave them our insurance information and brief health history. C.J. was silent. He could barely sit or stand and was not himself in any way, shape or form. I feared he had a blockage in his bowels. I was so nervous that my stomach was churning and I felt as if I was about to puke.
The triage nurse called us back and she began to take C.J.'s vitals. I had to excuse myself to run down the hall and vomit in the ladies room. I was heaving into the stall fearing my child was headed to surgery for a ruptured colon. By the time I made it back to the ward, C.J. was being examined by the ER nurse. I recognized Terri the moment I stepped into the room. This is the same nurse who came to Jeff's office to give the triplets their RSV Synagis injections when they were less than a few months old. We bonded over how much C.J has grown in those five years. As she took his blood pressure and temperature C.J. sat on my lap and farted like a grown man after a bowl of bean stew. He let one rip like no other. C.J. instantly smiled and the pain was gone. G-O-N-E.
With the elimination of the world's most expensive fart my son was cured. Terri asked him if his belly still hurt and he said, "I feel so great!" It was apparent to both of us that the problem was solved. Sort of.
While we were free to leave, Terri informed me that since they had already started treatment we would be leaving against medical advice. She understood as a parent that it was the right thing to do, but as a nurse she was obligated to tell me that our insurance company would not likely pay for the visit if we left AMA.
I did not care. My son was fine and I was out of there.
Who wants to guess at what this gassy incident is gonna cost me. Somehow, I have a feeling, I am going to be paying for the world's most expensive fart. I have said it before, and I will say it again....mother of the year!
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