As a pediatrician, I’ve seen countless families rush into the emergency room with children who’ve had a bit too much adventure. Between my own three kids, all under the age of six, and my patients, the ER has become a familiar landscape. Most visits result from the unpredictable nature of parenting—like when a child suddenly spikes a fever just before the weekend. Other times, it’s from minor bumps that leave parents in a state of panic. For instance, I often hear worried parents questioning if their child’s runny nose is due to tears or something more serious. Spoiler alert: it’s usually just tears.
One particularly memorable case involved my young son, who, after a long week, was unusually emotional as I prepared dinner. Just as I cracked some eggs into the frying pan, he burst into the kitchen, crying inconsolably. “What’s wrong?” I asked, concern flooding my voice.
“I don’t think I swallowed a penny!” he sobbed. This was a new one for me. “What do you mean you don’t think you swallowed a penny?” I questioned, only to find him too worked up to elaborate. My wife and I exchanged confused glances, trying to piece together the puzzle.
To get to the bottom of the situation, I called my sister, a seasoned ER doctor. “He doesn’t think he swallowed a penny,” I explained. “So he probably did,” she replied without missing a beat.
Soon, my wife took over dinner preparations while my son and I headed to the hospital. By the time we arrived, he seemed a little calmer, perhaps comforted by the thought that we were en route to the hospital. I approached the receptionist with the not-so-typical line, “My son here doesn’t think he swallowed a penny,” which drew a suppressed chuckle from her.
Once inside the examination room, I reiterated the situation to both a nurse and the attending physician. “Did you swallow a penny?” the doctor asked my son directly. “No,” he insisted, his conviction growing. The doctor chuckled and confidently remarked, “He almost certainly did swallow a penny.” Do they teach that in medical school?
The doctor decided we should do an x-ray just to be safe, explaining that while most coins pass without issue, there’s always a chance they can get lodged. In the meantime, my son found distraction in the Disney channel on the hospital TV—a luxury he rarely enjoyed at home.
When the x-ray technician arrived, he greeted us with a smile, “I hear your son didn’t swallow a penny! That’s a first!” After the x-ray was taken, the doctor returned and announced, “Your son is a truthful boy.”
“You mean he didn’t swallow a penny?” I asked, half-expecting a twist in the tale. “No penny,” he confirmed. I couldn’t recall the discharge instructions, though I’m sure they included a note about an overactive imagination. I left the hospital knowing we had spent a significant amount of money to learn that my son had indeed not swallowed a penny.
To this day, I’m still puzzled by the incident. My son later mentioned something about not being able to find a penny on the ground, leading him to believe it must be in his stomach. It’s a curious logic that I still don’t fully understand. At least it ended on a positive note.
As a parent, it’s essential to be aware of your child’s imaginative tendencies, and if you’re interested in more on the journey of parenthood, check out our blog on home insemination and how it intersects with family planning. For expert advice on pregnancy, visit WHO’s page on pregnancy. And for those considering home insemination, Make a Mom is an excellent resource as well.
Summary
In this humorous yet enlightening tale, a pediatrician recounts a visit to the ER with his son, who was convinced he might have swallowed a penny. The visit highlights the unpredictability of parenting and the curious ways children can interpret their experiences.