Healthy and Safe

Have you ever noticed that some people have the strangest things happen in their lives? I'm talking about the you've-got-to-be-kidding-that-doesn't-really-happen kind of stuff. Maybe you know someone like that. If you don't, I'd like to introduce you to one of those people: me. I recently had one of those crazy, almost unbelievable events happen at work, and I can say that I am really glad I work with a team of wonderfully caring people who helped me through it.

Some of you may know that I've been working very hard to be as healthy as I can be. My lifestyle change has not included going on a diet, but rather avoiding processed foods and completely changing my eating habits to include an abundance of color-rich, nutrient-dense whole foods and raw fruits and vegetables. It also includes a lot of exercise—and what would a healthy lifestyle be without vitamins?

On mornings when I wake up late, I take my vitamins at work. One of the vitamins I take is vitamin C, and I take a lot of vitamin C. In fact, the vitamin C pills I take are what my grandmother used to call "horse pills," because of their enormity.

This particular morning, I woke up late and forgot to take my vitamins when I got to work, so at about 4:30 in the afternoon, when I realized I still hadn't taken them, I decided it was time. I placed the horse pill in my mouth, took a swig of coconut water (because I love coconut water, and it's super hydrating), and proceeded to choke. The dry texture of the vitamin C pill seemed to stick to the inside of my throat like Velcro. It felt like a brontosaurus bone was stuck in my throat, and I began to panic. I took more chugs of coconut water and kept trying to swallow. Eventually my throat felt like a pitch fork had been drug across it several times, but I no longer felt my life passing before my eyes. At about the same time, my co-worker asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, my vitamin got stuck in my throat, but I'm okay now," I responded, and as I spoke, I suddenly realized that my tongue was touching my lips—right through the hole where I normally have a tooth. Not any tooth, mind you, but a tooth attached to a partial denture. It took me a few seconds to figure out that my vitamin wasn't the only thing I swallowed, and it probably wasn't what was battling my throat. Knowing full well that what goes up must come down, or in this case, what goes in must come out, I ran to the bathroom to try to get the tooth out through the closest exit. But, thanks to my nonexistent gag reflex, no luck. My mind began racing, and I began to panic. Now it felt like I had a giant lava rock and a bronto bone stuck in my chest. As a mother, many times I've had to find ways to handle bruises, bangs, busted bones, swells, and swallowed items, but this ingested item was out of my realm of expertise. I called my doctor.

"Hi, this is Angela Tillotson. I swallowed my 'toof.'"

"You swallowed your tooth?"

"Yeah, but it wasn't just a toof. It was attached to a partial denture—kind of like a retainer minus the wires. I swallowed the whole thing, and it feels like it's stuck in my chest."

"You swallowed a retainer?"

"Yeah, basically."

"You need to go to the emergency room. We don't have any available appointments before we close, and you will need to have X-rays."

Great, I thought to myself. It's about 4:45 in the afternoon, I have to fight traffic, I've got a thorny alien growing in my throat, and they want me to go to the ER where I'm going to have to spend $50 for a co-pay, and…I'm Toofless Tilly. I decided that I would go to the urgent care clinic instead and save myself $35.

I walked into my manager's office.

"Hi.  Look," I said pointing to the gaping hole in the front of my mouth. "I swallowed my toof and my doctor said I need to go to the ER, but I'm going to urgent care instead, so I need to leave now."

"Oh, my! Are you okay?" my manager asked.

"I feel like it's stuck right here," I said pointing to my chest.

 "Do you want a ride?" she asked, which was nice, because I wasn't very excited about making the one-mile trek to my car, just to sit in traffic for an hour before I got to urgent care. Besides, what if the toof started to grow or migrate to my lung, or what if it decided it wanted to escape out of my eye socket?

We walked to her car, and I pulled out my insurance card to find the nearest urgent care clinic and called them for directions.

"Hi. My boss is driving me to your clinic, because I swallowed my toof that's part of a denture thing, and we need directions to your office."

"You swallowed your tooth?"

"Yeah, but it's attached to a retainer kind of thing."

"You mean you basically swallowed a retainer?"

"Yeah, basically."

"Hold on. I want to make sure we can treat you here."

"Thank you for holding. Yeah, you will need to go to the ER. We could examine you here, but we would need to send you to the ER for X-rays."

Fortunately I got this information just before we got on the freeway, and my manager was able to get us going in the right direction to the ER. She must have a GPS brain, because she safely navigated through all the side streets and quickly delivered me to the ER. I walked in and checked in at the front counter.

"Hi, can I help you?" asked the nice man working at the desk.

"Hi. My doctor said I need to come in because I swallowed my toof-denture," I responded.

"You mean you swallowed your partial?" a nurse casually asked.

"Yes, I swallowed my partial. I just need one of you to get some fishing line and a hook and pull it out," I said.

"We will probably have you wait and pass it. It will probably do more damage to your esophagus to pull out than it would to have you pass it."

"WHAT? You want me to wait for that thing to make its grand exit? Do you know what that thing looks like? Do you know how big that thing is or how it's shaped? Come on! Can't you just punch me in the stomach really hard so I cough it up?" I asked.

They all laughed. Obviously they didn't realize I was serious.

My mementos from the ER. Yes, they are going
in the pile o' junk to add to the scrapbook.

"Fill out these papers, and someone will call you in a few minutes," they said as they handed me a clipboard and pen.

One glass of water, one shiny red apple (they wanted to make sure I could still eat and drink without any problems), two trips to the restroom, three X-rays, and nearly four hours later, I was paroled from the ER—with my toof still on its incredible voyage through my body.

The discharge nurse handed me my aftercare papers, which read, "Your child (replace child with yourself) swallowed a foreign body. It will probably pass on through the bowel (gut) without problems…keep babies sitting up to eat…throw away small toys…do not allow children to play with balloons." Great. I've been given aftercare instructions for something that normally only happens to infants and toddlers—and now me.

At some point while I was signing papers, I must have mentioned that I was with my boss.

"Oh, this happened at work?" the attendant asked.

"Yes, it happened at work, but it's not a Workers' Comp issue. My employer does not require me to take vitamins or swallow my teeth. I did that on my own," I responded.

Just then my manager stepped closer and said, "We do, however, encourage our employees to be healthy and safe, which is why we are here."

I believe that there's always a lesson in everything that happens in our lives. So, what did I learn from my toofy ordeal? I mean other than making sure that my fake toof is either firmly in place or completely out of my mouf before I take any vitamins? I learned that proper health and safety practices take teamwork. It was only after my co-worker asked if I was okay was by my side that I realized the renegade tooth was loose in my body. And, my boss stuck by my side and made sure that I got to the ER safely and that I was okay.

So be a team player—not just when it comes to getting projects completed—but at all times. Stay alert to what's going on around you. You never know when someone might be choking on a tooth—or even worse, a partial denture, but if it does happen, you'll know what to do.