Sahail AshrafThe Old Gum Nut Up the Nose Trick – A Story of Bodily Orifices
August 1st 2007 01:35
Yesterday I discovered that a gum nut is the perfect fit for a two year old’s nostril. Princess Toddler has recently discovered the joys of bodily orifices, in particular the nose. Since finding out about this hole she has spent many joyful hours sticking her finger up one nostril, or two nostrils, or both. It stands to reason then that she came up to me late in the afternoon and said, with a huge degree of pride in her effort, “Gum nut up ‘a nose Mum.”
But she was soon to discover, as was I, that sticking a gum nut up your nose is not a pleasant experience. As I stared up her tiny nose the gum nut was clearly visible. Thinking it would be easy to eject, and thankful that my fingernails hadn’t gone the chop yet, I stuck my finger up her nose and tried to flick it out. But as it turned out a gum nut up the nose makes a very firm and snug fit inside a young nostril. Not beaten by this gum nut yet, I tried my little finger. No movement. I tried getting her to blow her nose like she does into a tissue but instead Princess Toddler sniffed and only made the gum nut become more firmly wedged up there.
Okay, last resort. I grabbed a pair of tweezers from the bathroom cabinet and gave that a go. Well, this was a halfhearted effort at best because tweezers, though they may appear pretty small, don’t actually fit up a toddler’s nose. One final go at sticking one side of the tweezers up there resulted in a bit of blood, a bit of screaming and a gum nut a bit further up the nose. There was only one thing for it.
It was off to the doctor’s after a brief phone conversation where I said, “Hello, my daughter has a gum nut stuck up her nose. Can I come in?” The quick response was, “Yes, we’re going to have to fit her in. Come down.” Princess Toddler was very pleased to be heading off to the doctor’s and her cries quickly abated (thanks to a well thought out kid’s playroom at the medical centre.)
We walked into the centre and the nurse said, “Is this the pea?” I replied, “Yes, and it’s a gum nut actually.” At which point a teenage boy cracked up in rapturous laughter and loudly exclaimed to his father that my daughter has a gum nut stuck up her nose. After various outcries of laughter and a few stares I made my way gingerly to the waiting area. I tried desperately to concentrate on reading my daughter a story -as though bringing your child to the doctor’s to have a gum nut extracted is the most common thing in the world. It didn’t help though that every few minutes she would cry out, “Have gum nut up ‘a nose.” Thanks for the reminder to everyone seated in the busy room. Can a hole in the ground now open up and swallow me whole?
After a painful 20 minute wait (for me, not her – Princess Toddler was quite content to play with the gum nut up her nose), the doctor called us in. There was no greeting, instead the doctor just looked at us as though we were completely mad until I just blurted out, “She has a gum nut stuck up her nose.” The non-animated reaction was, “Which one?” Thankfully, I had already rehearsed in my mind that it was “Up her left one.” At which point he told me to seat my daughter on the table and disappeared into another room. Trying to act casually I pointed out to Princess Toddler the various sea creatures on the patterned sheet she sat upon.
A few minutes later the doctor reappeared with a long, silver implement that had a small ball on one end. He asked me to lay my daughter down and shone a bright light in her eyes. Great, my daughter hates bright lights – sunshine and fluorescent lighting have her reaching for a pair of sunglasses. This was enough to bring on a fit of crying without the implement coming anywhere near her. Thankfully, the nurse appeared just as I was trying to calm her down.
The doctor instructed the nurse to hold down her arms and told me to hold her tightly across the knees. It seemed a cruel, barbaric technique – like chopping off an arm without anesthetic and telling someone to bite down on a piece of wood. Okay, it wasn’t that bad but to my daughter it certainly was and I admit I was pathetically teary over the whole ordeal. But this doctor was an expert on gum nut removal and a few seconds later out it came. Through her sobs I hear the doctor utter something about how you have to be quick with this type of procedure so holding her down like that was necessary. And that he’s had a “few of those” gum nuts up the nose.
While giving my daughter a hug to try and calm her down he asked if she was too young for jellybeans. Not caring about the vices of lolly eating at this point I replied, “She’d like that.” He handed her two jellybeans. It turned out the nurse was just as sympathetic and produced her own box of jellybeans. The nurse then asked the doctor if there was an item number for that one and he didn’t reveal even a tad of a sense of humour when she said, “Okay, item for gum nut up the nose.” There were a few more jokes about sticking things up the nostril as we headed to reception and I was only half joking when I said that I hoped this trauma would deter her from sticking things up there again. Finally, my daughter and I left the doctor’s, her with four jellybeans held tightly and protectively in her little hands, and me to an awaiting glass of red wine.
But she was soon to discover, as was I, that sticking a gum nut up your nose is not a pleasant experience. As I stared up her tiny nose the gum nut was clearly visible. Thinking it would be easy to eject, and thankful that my fingernails hadn’t gone the chop yet, I stuck my finger up her nose and tried to flick it out. But as it turned out a gum nut up the nose makes a very firm and snug fit inside a young nostril. Not beaten by this gum nut yet, I tried my little finger. No movement. I tried getting her to blow her nose like she does into a tissue but instead Princess Toddler sniffed and only made the gum nut become more firmly wedged up there.
Okay, last resort. I grabbed a pair of tweezers from the bathroom cabinet and gave that a go. Well, this was a halfhearted effort at best because tweezers, though they may appear pretty small, don’t actually fit up a toddler’s nose. One final go at sticking one side of the tweezers up there resulted in a bit of blood, a bit of screaming and a gum nut a bit further up the nose. There was only one thing for it.
It was off to the doctor’s after a brief phone conversation where I said, “Hello, my daughter has a gum nut stuck up her nose. Can I come in?” The quick response was, “Yes, we’re going to have to fit her in. Come down.” Princess Toddler was very pleased to be heading off to the doctor’s and her cries quickly abated (thanks to a well thought out kid’s playroom at the medical centre.)
We walked into the centre and the nurse said, “Is this the pea?” I replied, “Yes, and it’s a gum nut actually.” At which point a teenage boy cracked up in rapturous laughter and loudly exclaimed to his father that my daughter has a gum nut stuck up her nose. After various outcries of laughter and a few stares I made my way gingerly to the waiting area. I tried desperately to concentrate on reading my daughter a story -as though bringing your child to the doctor’s to have a gum nut extracted is the most common thing in the world. It didn’t help though that every few minutes she would cry out, “Have gum nut up ‘a nose.” Thanks for the reminder to everyone seated in the busy room. Can a hole in the ground now open up and swallow me whole?
After a painful 20 minute wait (for me, not her – Princess Toddler was quite content to play with the gum nut up her nose), the doctor called us in. There was no greeting, instead the doctor just looked at us as though we were completely mad until I just blurted out, “She has a gum nut stuck up her nose.” The non-animated reaction was, “Which one?” Thankfully, I had already rehearsed in my mind that it was “Up her left one.” At which point he told me to seat my daughter on the table and disappeared into another room. Trying to act casually I pointed out to Princess Toddler the various sea creatures on the patterned sheet she sat upon.
A few minutes later the doctor reappeared with a long, silver implement that had a small ball on one end. He asked me to lay my daughter down and shone a bright light in her eyes. Great, my daughter hates bright lights – sunshine and fluorescent lighting have her reaching for a pair of sunglasses. This was enough to bring on a fit of crying without the implement coming anywhere near her. Thankfully, the nurse appeared just as I was trying to calm her down.
The doctor instructed the nurse to hold down her arms and told me to hold her tightly across the knees. It seemed a cruel, barbaric technique – like chopping off an arm without anesthetic and telling someone to bite down on a piece of wood. Okay, it wasn’t that bad but to my daughter it certainly was and I admit I was pathetically teary over the whole ordeal. But this doctor was an expert on gum nut removal and a few seconds later out it came. Through her sobs I hear the doctor utter something about how you have to be quick with this type of procedure so holding her down like that was necessary. And that he’s had a “few of those” gum nuts up the nose.
While giving my daughter a hug to try and calm her down he asked if she was too young for jellybeans. Not caring about the vices of lolly eating at this point I replied, “She’d like that.” He handed her two jellybeans. It turned out the nurse was just as sympathetic and produced her own box of jellybeans. The nurse then asked the doctor if there was an item number for that one and he didn’t reveal even a tad of a sense of humour when she said, “Okay, item for gum nut up the nose.” There were a few more jokes about sticking things up the nostril as we headed to reception and I was only half joking when I said that I hoped this trauma would deter her from sticking things up there again. Finally, my daughter and I left the doctor’s, her with four jellybeans held tightly and protectively in her little hands, and me to an awaiting glass of red wine.
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Comment by James Rickard
unlucky_ fishermen.com
Angling Fish
Comment by Tracy
Movies and Life
Comment by Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
I used to stick Lucky beans up my nose when I was young (Not sure if you get that tree here but they are little red berries with a black spot... kind look like an eyeball actually) so can totally understand these trips!
Comment by Andrea
Diet and Health
V8 Supercar Pitstop
Great and funny post, Candice.
A.xx
Comment by Lilla
Enviro Warrior
An Extra Ordinary Life
Dream Herald
...let's hope the 'ordeal' of its removal will warrant deeper thought, next time, before trying other items to see if they "fit"
((very funny))
Lilla ...
Comment by KylieW
Celebrity Obsession
That is hilarious (for me to read, maybe not you as a parent). I've always joked to my stepmother (who has no interest in having any kids) that if she wants to experience parenting I could always stick a few peas up my nose and come to her to get them extracted. That's the kind of caring stepdaughter I am
She hasn't ever taken me up on the offer.....thankfully!
Kylie
Comment by Candice
Yeah, and to think it took me only two years to get in. I think I deserve a special 'I've had an embarrassing moment' t-shirt, complete with gum nut stick on.
Thanks for the visit.
Comment by Candice
Thanks, I guess you've got to have a bit of a sense of humour about these things or you'd go nuts (sorry about the pun!).
Comment by Candice
Thanks!
Your poor parents LOL. I don't know how lucky they'd think the Lucky beans were. We used to have a tree with those berries at my Nanna's house. But we used them for berry throwing fights - none up the nose though!
Comment by Candice
Lucky you didn't have to face the doctor's office. I was tempted to wait longer before doing 'the call' but it was already 4pm so we ended up at the medical centre. At least it seems to have put her off the idea. Yesterday she said to me "Not put gum nut up 'a nose Mum."
Glad you enjoyed the post.
Comment by Candice
Yes, I really hope the trauma of having the gum nut pulled out has turned her off the whole idea.
This may be a good sign?? ....
Comment by Candice
Maybe you should suggest the gum nut to your stepmother instead? They're very hard, so even more difficult to get out than a pea!
*chuckle, chuckle*
Comment by Mrs M
Mum's Word
As long as she doesn't think, "stick a gum nut up a nose....get jelly beans".
Ah kids, they're a danger to themselves aren't they?
Great little story Candice.
Love & stuff
Mrs M
Comment by Candice
I was a little afraid she'd try the trick again for jelly beans too but she's happily been repeating the line "not put gum nut up 'a nose Mum' for weeks now. Chicken has also been taken to the doctor's repeatedly for a gum nut extraction (though chicken does get a jelly bean at the end of the ordeal.)
Comment by Sarah White
coolgirlsar to the rescue
One Too Many Chocolate Bars
Take Care.
Sarah.xxx
Comment by Candice
Oooh, a magnet. Youch! That's even better than a gum nut.
Thanks for dropping by.
Comment by JRS Medical
He just pointed up his nose and said, "see, I can't get it out". I looked up the nose and their was a blue connecting part from his Bionicle toy lodged at the top of his nose. I nearly freaked out, I could barely see it. With the help of Mom holding him still I said what any caring parent would say...."If you move son while I'm doing this it could go into your brain, so be very still".
I only had one chance to get it right so I carefully maneuvered the tweezers into his nostril to pull out the bloody blue piece. I was very lucky to not have to visit the ER that night. If the item had been round like a gum nut I would not have been so lucky.
I feel your pain and laughed out loud when I read your post.