Nobody Nose the Trouble I Seen

Well, we had our first mild emergency today. Of course it had to happen while Chris was away in the States. Wilder found a small, green, plastic bead that had fallen off a small plastic and yarn cross my nephew Roy made me years ago, and that I’ve carried with me since as a good omen on all of my travels. Wilder showed it to me and to some neighborhood friends and carried it around for all of 5 minutes, one of which I wasn’t looking, before finding it a home in his left nostril. I had gone upstairs for just a moment and returned to find him head down, blowing snot on the front porch, not too troubled, saying, “Mommy, there’s a ball in my nose.” No f*@#ing way! My attempt with tweezers and a suction bulb to remove the item was less than successful and actually served to push it up a bit further. So off to find medical help we go. It was almost four in the afternoon and the clinic in Arenal was already closed, so our only hope to extract this foreign body was to go to the hospital in Tilaran, which is 45 minutes away, at the end of a road so badly dotted with potholes that tourism has fallen 50 percent this year for any establishment residing alongside it. What would I do if he had broken a bone or was bitten by a snake?! Reality check: We really need to gather our local resources. I was a bit disconcerted and not too thrilled, though I knew that he would be alright. Wilder, himself, was just excited to go to Tilaran because they’ve got a great playground in the center of town. “It doesn’t hurt, Mommy,” was his effort at avoiding any further unpleasantness and securing playtime at the park.

Sue, our painter friend, came with us for support, and on the way to Tilaran I also had the presence of mind to stop at Gordo and family’s to see if they could help us locate a doctor closer by. There just happened to be a P.A. from the States on vacation with her family at their restaurant (whose last name is Deneen! What is up with the moniker connection here?), so she tried to help by doing the same thing I did but with chewing gum at the end of the tweezers. She made similar progress as I had plus managed to freak Wilder out even more (the poor guy had fallen asleep on the way there and awoke in his car seat with a strange woman poking a sharp, sticky instrument up his nose). So we abandoned this second dig into his tender nostril before things got any worse. Gordo’s wife Adilia immediately offered to come with us to the hospital, which proved to be a comfort and a great benefit. She not only facilitated our entry to the hospital (I imagine my Spanish would not have gotten us in to see a doctor ahead of everyone else within minutes of arriving), but the Emergeny Room receptionist also knew Gordo and didn’t charge us a single colon. Blessings and benevolence! It took the doctor seconds to pull the bead out and afterwards we celebrated Wilder’s bravery (embodied by screams heard throughout the waiting room) with ice cream, cookies, and, of course, a visit to the park. There were no repercussions except a slightly bloody nose and the ability to swap stories with his cousin Roman, a veteran nose plugger, who once used his nostril as a piggy bank for a dime. Ah, pura vida.