Poison Control

Mental Subtitle: Ode to the Mr Yuck Moron Who Completely Ruined My Thursday.

Toby is in the opening stages of the teething game. Basically, he gnaws on everything in sight, gets cranky for no apparent reason, and uses my juggies as human chew toys. This is all lead-up to explain why we had the homeopathic teething tablets out on Wednesday night. It also explains why, after that sleepless night, I was slow-moving and cranky on Thursday morning.

I popped downstairs to check email and order a (very belated) wedding gift for my brother and his new wife. Jack was contentedly absorbed in the Backyardigans. As I finished up in the office, I heard him heading up the stairs. I clicked "submit order", gathered up Toby and my coffee, and headed upstairs after him.

I entered my bedroom just in time to see him taking the bottle of pills from his mouth. 'Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. What does he have?' is the only thing I remember thinking. I set Toby in the bassinet and was to him in 2 strides, doing my level best not to scare the shit out of him, but hell bent on getting that bottle out of his hands.

For anyone unfamiliar, the teething tablets to which I am referring are tiny white tabs about the size of the birth control pill. They are powdery and soft, and dissolve instantly on contact with liquid or with the tongue of a 2 year old. The bottle holds 250 of the pills, and had been about half full the night before. As I took it from Jack's hand, it held about 20 tablets.

Having some rudimentary medical training, I scanned the contents of the bottle for the ingredients... sugar, mostly, coffee (okay, so he'd be hyper for a while)... nothing that caught my eye until "uh-oh" BellaDonna.

All I know about BellaDonna is from reading some Agatha Christie novel where some country squire or other poisoned his cheating mistress with it or something along those lines. Poison being the operative word here.

I read further along the bottle and found the warning right there on the side "In case of accidental overdose contact the poison control center immediately." And, as luck would have it (and long experience, from that time he tried to drink tire cleaner, and that other time when he got hold of the Febreeze) we have a Mr. Yuck magnet on the fridge. I grabbed the clueless Jack and the cordless phone, left Toby screaming in his bed, and ran for the kitchen. I silently thanked God for all that dialing practice I got over the years trying to win concert tickets from radio stations. I got a bored sounding female voice on the other end of the line.

I quickly explained the situation as calmly as I could, told her what he'd taken and about how many, and waited. She sounded confused as to what exactly it was Jack had swallowed. I explained again and offered to read her the NDC number from the side of the bottle. She declined and said "no no, that's okay. How long ago did he take this?"

Tick. Tock. "About 2 minutes ago."

"You need to take him into the nearest Emergency Room immediately. They're going to need to give him charcoal and he'll require observation."

Tick. Tock. "Okay thank you."

A panicked phone call to my neighbor later (she decreed that she was following me to the ER and would take Toby in the waiting room while I went with Jack) and we were on the road. Jack seemed unbothered by mommy barely keeping a lid on her TOTALLY BLOWN MIND until we got in the car and pulled out of the driveway with me muttering under my breath. "Mommy. You scaring me." Crap. "Don't worry baby, there's nothing to be scared of. Everything is going to be okay."

The receptionist at the ER looked at the bottle of pills I handed her. "My son just swallowed half of these. Poison Control said to come straight over." They rushed us back. Doctors and nurses came in and out, took the mostly-empty bottle, made phone calls, had hushed conversations. Our assigned doc patted my hand and said "how are YOU doing?" and it was all I could do to keep from sobbing into his scrubs and screaming "I am a TERRIBLE mother and how did this happen to my baby?! is how I'm doing." I stripped Jack down to his diaper and he was examined. More hushed conversations.

Tick. Tock. Minutes pass. The doctor walked into the room and said again "how are YOU doing?.. because the good news is, he is going to be totally fine."

As it turns out, they called poison control themselves and talked to SOMEONE WITH A CLUE who informed them that Jack would have had to swallow about 3 bottles of the tablets before there would be enough BellaDonna to actually have an effect.

The guy they talked to said "Next time, tell her to call us first. We could have saved her the trip." And bless his heart, the doctor (who I now love so much I may let him father my next child) informed him that, indeed, I HAD called and somebody over there is a total asshat for scaring me unnecessarily and not bothering to actually look up what it was Jack had swallowed.

And so ended my horrific adventure. Jack was fine, and basically I paid 75 bucks for a cup of apple juice. (Which is what the nurse gave him, then said to push fluids on him the rest of the day just to be sure.)

And of course, OCD Mommy that I am, the kid peed like a racehorse from all the water, juice, and milk I was shoving at him for the next 12 hours.