Jawbreakers and Buckshot (Cont.)
Screen 3 of 3So off to the doctor I went. Since the school did not have a college physician, one of the student teachers took me to a general practioner whose office was only a few blocks away--not too far to walk.
"Buckshot, huh?" was the doctor's first question. "How many did you swallow?"
"Oh, several," I replied somewhat sheepishly. "I'm not sure."
"Nurse," he called out. "Bring in the stomach pump. We'll have to use it on this boy."
"Stomach pump:" I exclaimed. "Do we have to use that? Won't the buckshot go on through without any help?"
"Well, maybe, but we can't take a chance," he mumbled as he began to hook up the pump.
Once again I started to admit that I had not told the truth, in order to avoid what was about to happen. But before I could make up my mind, the doctor had put the rubber tube down my throat. Down, down it went, almost choking me.
I will not bore the reader with the gory details of how a stomach pump is used and how it feels to the one being pumped. It was horrible. Everything in my stomach--liquid and solid-- was forced out into a pan for inspection.
When the doctor could not find any metal balls in the pan, he merely said, "Well, I suppose the buckshot has already passed into the intestines." He then pushed down firmly on my abdomen and added, "I expect you won't have any more trouble. Tell your mother to let me know if you do."
I was very glad to get back to school, realizing that even with all its disadvantages, school was better than a stomach pump.
The moral to this story is obvious. I will not try to state it for the reader. I will say, however, that from this experience I learned a lesson I've never forgotten: Never tell a lie; if you do, they may use a stomach pump on you.
Chester C. Travelstead
August 16, 1979
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