A Foolish April 1st.

I can't help but laugh when I look at this face. And then sometimes I get a little misty-eyed and think how on earth did she grow up so fast?  She is a fiesty, determined little girl,and  hard-headed. Literally and figuratively.  She's rather clumsy, although the number of times she cries to the number of times she falls is about 1:7. Pretty good. She bonks her head, trips, and crashes into doors on a daily basis and it is a miracle she hasn't needed stitches.  I've just been waiting, mentally preparing for that moment when her excitement and energy puts her in the ER.

This past April Fool's morning, Cade and Savannah were happily gearing up for a morning of fun with their cousins. I personally was dragging. I had been up the night before tending to Cade and an ear ache. I woke up some time around 2am to his cries, so I got him some medicine, soothed him back to sleep, then put the pain medicine on my nightstand and crawled into bed. I am always amazed envious at how happy and well-rested my children are in the morning, even after being up at night.

I sluggishly went to my closet, dressed, and rounded the kids up for breakfast downstairs. While Savannah was hoisted on my hip going down the stairs, I noticed her face was covered in purple, sticky goo.  I immediately knew what it was and ran to my nightstand. The Tylenol I had given Cade was not there.  I darted to her room where I found a purple puddle on her carpet and the bottle of Tylenol completely empty. Did  I mention it was a brand new bottle, minus the 2 tsp Cade had gotten the night before? Not good. I panicked. I felt sick to my stomach for my carelessness. Had I really not screwed the top on tight?

Trying to remain calm, I asked Savannah if she drank the medicine. She stared at me blankly. It was hard to tell how much of the medicine had spilled on her carpet, and how much of it she had ingested. Finally she admitted to drinking it (as if the purple ring around her lips wasn't a giveaway) and I hurriedly looked up poison control on the internet.  I called and got through, but ended up being put on hold for 15 minutes. It felt like eternity. In the mean time I instructed Cade to get ready to leave, and dressed Savannah, explaining we were going to be going to the hospital. I phoned my sister and told her we couldn't watch her boys that morning and just started to cry. My sister was sweet and told me everything was going to be fine.  I knew she wasn't going to die over this, but words can't explain the horrible guilt I felt for allowing this to happen.  

Finally the poison control center took me off hold and after explaining the situation to them, I was instructed to go to the ER right away, because Savannah needed to be treated within an hour of ingesting the medicine. They told me they would give the hospital a heads up I was on my way.

When I arrived, I was a little unsettled by how calm and slow-moving everything was. They recognized me as the woman who had called poison control and I expected them to wheel out a gurney, strap Savannah to it, and immediately giver her some of that nasty black chalk stuff to get her to throw up. Instead they moseyed me on through the front entry-way, gave us a room and told us where the remote was.   A doctor would be in shortly, the receptionist explained. In the mean time, feel free to watch TV.  Okay, cool.  That made the kids happy, but I was anxious.

A nurse came, a rather cranky one actually, and had me explain what happened. After making notes on her chart she told me a doctor would be by shortly. About 10 minutes later the doctor came in, asked me what happened, and then explained to me all we could do was wait 4 hours and then they could draw Savannah's blood to check her toxicity levels.  I was really surprised. Wasn't she supposed to be treated like, NOW?

Apparently not. They did give us the option of going home and coming back if we'd rather hang out at home as opposed to the hospital. I didn't know what to do. Home was just 10 minutes away, and Cade hadn't even eaten breakfast yet. I thought of all the things I could get done while we waited this out, but I liked the security of being at the hospital in case something went wrong. Up to that point Savannah had still been her chipper self and showed no signs of discomfort or that she had just ingested enough poison to shut her liver down.  The cranky nurse came in and demanded my answer. Were we leaving or staying?  I had no idea. I stared at her blankly and then at Savannah, trying to find some sign to let me know what I should do. I finally said we'd stay. About 3 minutes later, Savannah became cranky and tired and then complained of a tummy ache. Then she threw up.  Lots and lots of purple goo. I was glad we stayed.  

The nurse came in and gave Savvy a pill to dissolve in her mouth and told me it was Zofran to help the nausea.  I laughed thinking how much the hospital was going to bill me for the same pill I had in my purse. "Oh, I have one of those, I could have given her one."  The nurse then looked at my bugling stomach and nodded. She asked if the Zofran helped me much.  "No, but I still keep it with me in case one day it does," I responded.  Then the nurse told me she couldn't live without the stuff. The girl was 14 weeks pregnant.  No wonder she was cranky. I gave her a break after that.

Aside from throwing up, Savannah had been having a great time watching show after show on TV in her room. I was beginning to worry she was going to think being at the hospital was fun and have fond memories of our stay. While it was hard to see her struggle and cry when it was time for her blood to be drawn, I was relieved some part of the hospital experience was unpleasant so she wouldn't associate hospitals with happiness and the absence of TV-watching time limits.

After waiting an hour for the results, good news came. We were so fortunate that her level of acetaminophen in her body was not toxic to her liver. It was high, but not toxic and they just sent us on our way. Just like that. No medicine or special instructions or anything other than to have the pediatrician check on Savannah the following day.

While checking out Savannah at the doctor's office the next day, Cade asked the doctor to look in his ears. I immediately sunk in my chair. Of course. Ear ache. Up all night. Tylenol.  My son had been suffering and I had totally forgotten!  The doctor asked me if Cade was on any medicine and I shook my head.  "Well, we better get this little guy a prescription.  His ear is pretty red and does not look good." 

Awesome, I was 0 for 2 in properly taking care of my children. 

 Aside from the enormous amount of guilt I felt, I also had an enormous amount of gratitude. We were so fortunate things turned out the way they did. Cade got some medicine for that poor ear, and Savannah didn't have any harmful or lasting side effects from her Tylenol binge. I can't help but look at my children differently after that fateful and foolish day...