I would say that this kernel of corn was worth its weight in gold, but that much gold is only worth ~$36.38, whereas this kernel of corn cost us nearly $4000.
This was the second time Beckham had shoved anything up his nose. The first time, a month or more prior, he had shoved a frozen pea up his nose, saying "Oh gosh!" but I was easily able to push it down and out. This time, when Beckham shoved a frozen corn kernel up his nose, (and Dallin realized because Beckham kept pointing to his nose and whining), I laughed at first. So did Beckham. Did that make the corn get sucked up higher? Dallin thought so, and he was not happy with me. I had thought I could easily get it out, like I did the pea. But after attempting to push it down and out, and after multiple attempts of the "mother's kiss" method of sealing off his mouth with mine, plugging the other nostril and giving a quick burst of air, the corn was still stuck. Unfortunately, Beckham had shoved his finger up his nose, forcing it much higher up so that it was only visible with a flashlight and if he wasn't crying.
At this point, we began to panic a little bit and decided to head to the only open urgent care in the area. We thought it would be an easy trip. But after wrapping him up in a sheet like a screaming burrito and failing to extract the corn with medical tweezers, the urgent care doc cancelled the cost of our visit and told us to head to the children's emergency room. You've got to be kidding me.
At the emergency room, the lobby was packed with an entire football team and multiple of the players' parents and siblings due to an apparent accident with two boys and a golf cart. Beckham's 8:00 bedtime had been 20 minutes after he shoved the corn up his nose, but he was being a trooper. At last he was able to be seen. The nurses wrapped him up like a burrito and tried to suction the corn out, but it was stuck. They left, came back a while later and tried again. Beckham was completely hysterical and so tired at this point. They consulted with the doctor and then with an ENT over the phone. The doctor came in and said she could put him under briefly and extract the corn that way, but looking up his nose herself she seemed incredibly hesitant and said there was only a 50-50 chance she could get it. Even just looking in his nose with a phone flashlight was enough to make Beckham start screaming. The doctor made it sound like the better option would be to go home and wait for a call from the ENT in the other hospital in the morning. We were discharged around 2 am. We were instructed to not give him any solids until after the surgery. I was unclear on whether he was allowed to drink anything; I gave him a bottle as I laid him down in bed and then thought he couldn't have any liquids in the morning.
That next morning, I awaited a call while Beckham begged for food and tried to lap up water from a puddle in the backyard. I called them, making sure they knew that we had been given instructions not to let my toddler eat or drink and that he was very upset. They said they would call me back. Someone eventually told me he could have water until an hour or whatever it was before we went in, and the time to go in was eventually set to 10:45 am. We arrived, and they put us in a room with the surgery time 12:15 written on the whiteboard. It took an additional hour for that to actually happen, with random staff coming in here and there and an exhausted Beckham losing his mind trying to get into the diaper bag for food and drink. At long last, they took him kicking and screaming to surgery after confirming that the nasal passages were too swollen for them to be willing to extract the corn while he was awake. Dallin and I were sent to a waiting room. We were only there for 15 minutes or so before they brought the corn kernel for us to see. Another 15 minutes or so and they brought us back to see Beckham, who was awake in a crib sipping his slushy as happy as could be!
After that whole fiasco, for the next couple days Beckham kept asking to eat corn. Respectfully, I said no.
