My husband had knee surgery and all of my Christmas help went home. Since their departure, it's been a blur of ice packs, physical therapy, meal service for 2 big eaters and trying to get over my cold. Needless to say, things have been crazy-busy and I was running out of steam trying to keep up. I'm hoping that after reading the above, you won't judge me for what happened next...
So, I was cleaning our room and put my very curious son next to me while I tidied up, threw snot rags away, picked up dirty clothes, ect. He was playing with his toy and I was keeping an eye on him as I ran around like a cleaning lady on crack. He got quiet and I knew he had done something he didn't want me to know about.
Indeed, he had just helped himself to one of Trait's prescription painkillers that had fallen on the floor.
You want to see me go psycho-Mommy? That about did it. I jammed my finger in his mouth and gagged him, trying to get out the little blue pill he was chewing on. I was able to get it out whole and then I made a mad dash to the sink to rinse his mouth out. As he sputtered and choked, still unsure why Mommy ruined his fun, I started running around my house, trying to find where I put the damn Poison Control Number. (It is now happily installed in my speed dial for any future incidences...) I'm sure they get hysterical parents all the time, but I appreciated how calm she was:
Poison Control, this is Toni
MY BABY TRIED TO EAT A LORITAB!!! He's drooling blue powder, but I got it all out, rinsed his mouth and made him gag. Do I call 911??!! MY BABY TRIED TO EAT A LORITAB!!!
If you got it out whole and rinsed his mouth, he's fine.
Huh? (sniff, sniff) Will he go into a coma? (sniff, sniff) Do I need to take him to the hospital? (sniff, sniff) I promise it was an accident!
If you got it out whole and rinsed his mouth, he's fine. He just sucked off the coating.
Oh.
Anything else?
No, that's about it. (sniff, sniff) Thank you.
I held him and cried the rest of the night. Then, I called my sister and told her I was sick so she'd come rescue me. And, she did.
Mommies need to be rescued, too.
2 comments:
This reminded me of the time when Ty was about 22 months old. We were all out in the yard working. To make a long story short, events happened and I thought he had been bitten by a rattlesnake. I jerked him up by one arm and started ripping clothes off him searching for two symmetrical puncture marks. He was screaming, not because he was bitten, but because Mommy was acting like a crazy person ripping his clothes. When I finally realized he was fine, I collapsed in the yard chair, smothering him in my arms and rocked and cried for quite a while. God is SO good. I thank Him for His mercy, because there was indeed a rattlesnake nearly right next to Ty as he played. His dad killed it.
Oy, this happened to us with my little one and one of my husband's Adderol. Luckily, I caught en route to his mouth, but dang. I still get chills when I think about it.
These sorts of things happen to us all. Wait...is that good or bad?
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