A Penny's Worth

It seems that Milo is a never-ending source of bloggable stories. The kid had a rough week last week. Mid-week I was called away from the university to go and take him to the clinic to see if he had sustained eye damage. I rushed to the school to find him lying in the nurse's office, streaks of tears having been wiped recently from his cheeks, and a gauze pad bandaged over his left eye. He seemed calm, but I wasn't.
"What happened!?"
"It looks worse than it is", said the nurse. "We only called because when it comes to eyes, we like the parents to be able to take every precaution". No kidding.
As it happens, Milo, in his recent efforts to behave and control his emotions in class, was actually innocent. Some bully had blocked Milo from putting his lunch bag away when asked to do so by the teacher. Milo became emotional and eventually took a good kick to the face. The school nurse was very concerned that when she flashed her little light at his eye he got upset and started crying. "That is an indicator of eye damage". As concerned as I was, I wasn't convinced. I took her little flashlight and pointed it at his other eye - same reaction. At this point I couldn't help but articulate the obvious to the nurse. "Did you consider the possibility that he just doesn't like having a light flashed across his retina?" Ultimately, he was no worse for wear. We did visit the doctor to be safe, but his 'sensitivity to light' seemed to disappear the second he got a fast-food lunch. Many parents disparage McDonald's but I say never underestimate the medicinal value of a good happy-meal.
Later that same week, I had to make a pit-stop to pick up a paycheque from a local place of employment. I left Milo and the kids in the van with Marianne, quite comfortably and safely strapped in place. When I returned, I once again found Milo wiping red streaks of tears from his face and being gently pampered by Marianne upon her lap.
"What happened!?"
"It looks worse than it is", said Marianne. "Milo swallowed a penny". He seemed calm, but I wasn't. Fortunately, Marianne had had experience with this sort of thing and knew it not to be as serious as it sounds. It turns out that she had swallowed a key when she was quite young in order to try and get her father to stay home from a fishing trip. Her father had another key to the boat, his trip went on as scheduled and uninterrupted, and Marianne had to wait several days for the 're-emergence' of the key.
It quickly became evident to me, by what Milo was saying, that he was more concerned for the loss of his penny than for his health safety. I assured him, it would be back, and that it was, in the meantime, in a definitively safe place.
At the clinic, the doctor told me that the human body is amazing in "what it can squeeze out of its system". He assured me that there was really nothing to worry about, save a few "tight corners" the penny would have to manipulate that might cause Milo a little discomfort for a couple of days. To put this in perspective, he informed me that he would be giving me the same speech if Milo had swallowed a loonie, and that a penny was really nothing to worry about. His only real concern was that the penny had actually been inhaled which was far more dire. Several hours and several x-rays later, while driving home from the hospital, Milo confidently told his mother on the phone that "the penny was in a safe place of his body, not a bad place".
It has been three days and the penny is yet to make an appearance, although it is reasonable to assume that it may well have slipped past Jennifer or I. Milo seems none the worse and none the wiser - except that he keeps his coins away from his mouth now. I must admit, I sure have gotten my penny's worth of anecdotes out of that boy!

Shakes.