it's in your blood

This blog post won't really be my usual fun, cute, or poignant posting.
Ok, I hope they are at least cute. Usually.
But at least this one has a happy ending.

Debbie has two grandchildren from her eldest daughter, Angela. Abigail is 5 1/2,
and Jacob is 2 1/2. Abigail has some medication that she is given daily, which comes
in a small bottle of orange cough-syrupy kind of liquid.

Thursday evening, Jacob quietly climbed up onto the counter, grabbed the bottle,
and drank some of the medication, recapped the bottle, and put it into the silverware drawer.
No one was the wiser until a few hours later, when he appeared to be unusually groggy and
unresponsive at bedtime, which is when Angela and husband Graham called 911, and Jacob
was rushed to the PICU of a northside Indy hospital.

Unfortunately, the the liquid cause of his condition was not immediately known, so for over
12 agonizing hours, Jacob was treated for what was thought to be a seizure. On Friday, a new
doctor visited, and deduced through reasoning, questions, and blood work that Jacob had accidentally nearly overdosed on his sister's medicine.

I cannot imagine the mixed reactions and emotions of any parents, given this news.
On one hand, the accidental ingestion of medicine could be relatively easily treated and neutralized, hopefully with no permanent residual effects. And this also rules out what might
have been the onset of some new, or genetic and lifelong medical challenge.
So this is really good news, at least after the child gets home from the hospital.

On the other hand, in this situation, it is very difficult for the parents to not feel guilty for accidentally leaving medication in an accessible place to a young child. But judging by the many stories I've heard this past weekend about children getting into stuff, despite good parents doing their best to protect them, I'd guess there is only so much you can control.

I am told that the doctors and nurse that Angela and Graham spoke with were extremely
kind, capable, and even vulnerable. In addition to telling them several stories of children going to unexpected lengths to get into medicine and chemicals, each had a personal story of their own children creating similar medical situations. The doctor even told of the "poopy pill box".

It seems that the child of the doctor had found a small round plastic pill box on the bathroom counter, containing several pills. I don't recall how the doctor discovered that the child had swallowed the pillbox whole, but in the end, it was a waiting game, and eventually, the child pooped out the intact pill box, pills contained, unscathed, and undissolved. The doctor retrieved the pillbox, cleaned it up, and has kept it for a keepsake, and a reminder.

I don't know if it helped or not when Graham called his Mum in Liverpool, and told her the story.
She replied with her own story about how a very young Graham had found a bottle of pills in his childhood home, and convinced his younger brother, Bobby, to take two for every one Graham took. Fortunately, the hospital took care of them, and all turned out well.

After three days of PICU and prayers, Jacob returned home on Sunday, and has improved immensely. He will have a couple low-key days of DVD camp in the TV room, while he regains his footing, his strength, and full muscle control. The ice cream should help...so I'm told.

This might have been the feel-good end of my version of Jacob's story, except that Debbie called her vacationing mom today, who is out visiting Debbie's sister in Montana. When Grandma Dixie heard the story, it turns out she had one of her own to tell.

Dixie reminded Debbie that when she was very young, but still the oldest of six children, she had gotten into a bottle of children's aspirin, and not only helped herself, but she shared with her brothers and sister. When Dixie discovered Debra Jo's aspirin distribution, she called the family doctor, Dr. Kiely, who told Dixie to have the kids drink mustard water, which would make them all regurgitate the pills, and other assorted snacks.

Now that I think of it, I can't recall Debbie ever putting mustard on a sandwich.

Jacob, it's in your blood.