Thursday, 12 December 2013

Up my nose Daddy

I had been with Esme getting her new glasses (Elton John eat your heart out - but that's another post), when we arrived home to find Daddy with a pair of tweezers up Sofia's nostril. Apparently, she'd appeared in front of him five minutes before exclaiming, "Up my nose Daddy."

"I've almost got it," says Simon, sweating profusely, "but it's up so high." And with that our darling Sofia sniffed, and the little plastic jewel that was just out of reach, disappeared completely.




"NHS Direct," we said simultaneously. 
"Go to A&E," they said, "immediately." 
"Can she have her nap first?" we asked, hopefully.
"Go to A&E." they said repeatedly.

We headed to the Royal Surrey yet again. They recognised me this time - which is saying something when you consider the staff turnover and shift systems. 

Eventually A&E became the children's ward, where there's a fantastic playroom which I love; it is so far removed from a hospital, you can easily forget where you are. Until you look at your child that is, and see a now bright red eye oozing gunge. The nurse informed me it was down to Sofia's blockage. Ah the little gem.

Doctors, a registrar and finally, a consultant later; Sofia and I were in for the night.

Except we weren't. Much to both my relief and embarrassment, we were expelled. At 10.30pm the sister's words to the registrar were, "You have to let Sofia go home. She is keeping my entire ward awake."

What Sofia was doing in fact, was using the cot bed as a trampoline. And setting off the alarms that were within reach. And singing at the top of her voice. And pulling the cubicle curtain open inch by inch, (the one I closed to try to quieten her down), revealing herself once more to the ward shouting, "Hello everybody." Before... (and I personally feel this was the piste de resistance)... blowing raspberries. Endless, full-bodied raspberries. You know the sort that shower spit.

My just 2YO, and it has to be said, usually good little sleeper, was having none of it. And why would she, when she had an entire audience to perform to?

Driving home, on an A3 that was partially shut, Sofia of course, fell fast asleep. Somewhere on the back roads, she let go of three tremendously violent sneezes. The sort that derive from having something up your nose that shouldn't be there. I'll admit, at that point I thought to myself, 'There it goes.'

Home again, and I used my phone to light her up, looking for the potentially sneezed out jewel. No chance, so small. So late. Simon appeared and carried her to bed. He was somewhat surprised to hear we had been discharged for the night, they'd harped on and on about the risk of choking. I think I grimaced as I said, 'You had to be there.'

We were back on the ward at 7.30am and as Sofia was having a general, she was not allowed anything to eat or drink. Thank goodness, she only mentioned food once and there weren't any emergencies to push her theatre slot back. Exactly how do you explain that to a 2YO? 'No, sorry. The kitchen is closed today. You have to starve, indefinitely.'

By 10am, Sofia was gowned up and heading down for her procedure. She made the entire Ear, Nose and Throat team laugh by saying the gas balloon she was trying to blow up for them was not working. 

I held her in my arms. She turned her face to look into my eyes, right as the gas was working. Before she closed her eyes and went limp, I managed to tell her I loved her. I lay her on the bed and didn't look back. 

Instead I walked to Simon. Together we went for a cup of tea. A little bit of sugar. And waited for the bleeper to signal she was back with us. And waited...

As we sat there, Simon took my hand, asking, "Are you okay Em?" "Darling, I'm fine. You know why? Because I know this is not going to be the last time that we do this with Sofia. Unfortunately, she is just that sort of kid."






18 comments:

maddy@writingbubble said...

I hope you had the gem framed (or perhaps mounted in a ring) once it was finally recovered! Sophia sounds like a very funny little character! #prose4T

Anonymous said...

I probably shouldn't but I was laughing out loud reading about her hospital antics, especially her using the cot as a trampoline ;-) I adore those stories!

Lisa from Lisas Life said...

Oh blimey. My little brother was the one for always sticking things up his nose but never ended with a trip to A & E! Bless Sofia #prose4t

Anonymous said...

Glad to hear she wasn't too traumatised by the event! I fear you may be right in your predictions - your daughter sounds like a lovely spirited character #prose4T

Amanda Masters said...

As a parent who has spent months sat by my childs hospital bed, I always appreciated the kids who came it kept things feeling lively! Very refreshing in what can be a difficult situation

Distressed Housewife said...

So many mixed emotions reading your post because it's so beautifully written. I laughed at her incorrigibility but also felt your anguish as she was given her anaesthetic. Children, so worrying but so worth it... ;) x

Emma Oliver said...

incorrigible - good word! And totally sums up Sofia Faith. Argh! Thank you for the comment x

Emma Oliver said...

Amanda, there must be a lot to your story... I'm sorry to hear you have spent months on a ward with your child. Funny you should say that you appreciated the kids that were lively - one of the mums in with us, thanked me the next day, saying Sofia had totally taken her mind off her poorly babe, and that she had not stopped giggling to herself. Thank you for sharing.

Emma Oliver said...

Spirited is one word! x

Emma Oliver said...

Quite a common thing from what I hear… but it takes quite a lot of doing to make it disappear entirely and need a general!

Emma Oliver said...

Ah thanks my dear. She is entertaining isn't she… there's certainly never a dull moment with her.

Emma Oliver said...

She's lovely! And very trying! Thanks for commenting Maddy.

Orli D said...

What a story! Glad to see you haven't lost your humour :) When my eldest had to undergo general anaesthesia I lost my sense of humour for a while... She sounds delightful and I'm glad she's fine. Hope you have a lovely weekend :)
#PoCoLo

Kriss MacDonald said...

Oh gosh from jumping up and down on the bed in the hospital ward to an op - sounds like your daughter was turning it into an adventure but it must have been an emotional ride for you!

Charlie Hughes said...

Sofia sounds a card :-) My youngest is about to turn 3 and she keeps us on our toes too. She'll be the one to lead us to A&E out of the 2 of our lovelies. I'm assuming they found said bead/gem? And glad to hear she's none the worse for wear xx #PoCoLo

Victoria Welton said...

I have to say that having met your Sofia and Charlies youngest they do remind me of each other!! I did find this very funny and I always love to hear you relay stories of the Royal Surrey (so long as they are not serious) as that was where Grace was born :) Thank you for linking to PoCoLo x

Suzanne Whitton said...

Aw this is frightening, lovely and heart-warming all at the same time! My son did the pushing a bead up his nose thing at about 4 years of age. We went to A & E and they managed to extract it. Obviously not always so easy :( Hope she (and you!) have recovered x

Anonymous said...

Ooosh... I've seen my littlun go under a general anaesthetic twice. Even if it's only for a minor thing like a bead up the nose it's still very VERY scary.

#Prose4T etc